On est bien à Lisieux

For someone as spatially challenged as I've thought I am, it's nice to realize I can tell, even in the dark, when I'm rolling into the Rouen station by the big hills all around us and the fact that we've just crossed the Seine.

I spent last night and today in Lisieux. For those who...well, aren't J. (or similarly Catholically inclined) Lisieux was the home of Ste. Therese of Lisieux, a carmelite nun who lived towards the end of the 19th century, one of the three women doctors of the church, and considered by many to be the greatest saint of modern times- despite (or because?) of the fact that she did nothing especially noteworthy in all of her life. Not even getting martyred.

Her secret- and pretty much her entire raison d'etre (and correct me if I'm wrong on anything, J.,) was to offer up any little sacrifice or humiliation she came across during the day as a way to love to God, as a path to perfect humility, to dependence on God, to loving Christ passionately, and to bringing souls to him...pass someone and don't feel like talking to her? Smile and say something kind. Sister praying in front of you keeps making funny noises that are driving you crazy? Be determined to thank God for them and listen to them like they are music. Also: be especially kind to the unlovable, accept just or unjust criticism as an occasion for greater humility and union with Christ...and always trust God completely, no matter what.

Ok, end of history lesson- the trip

I got in later than I'd expected and was grumpy and the main strip in Lisieux has a slightly touristy feel to it that bugged me. I checked into the retreat center...the lady at the desk was very nice to me, asked me how my trip was and chatted about how her sister and brother were currently in the US, but I hardly noticed...I was tired and hungry and wanted to get on with learning to become a more humble and loving person, darnit!

Turned out the retreat house was run by a community of consecrated lay sisters (there's a difference between them and full-fledged nuns but I don't know what it is...) This shouldn't make a difference. I should be good and loving to any person who's nice to me, and even more good and loving to people who aren't, but yeah... St. Therese and our mom are working with me on that one...

Anyway, les missionaires travailleuses de l'Immaculee all spend their second year of formation at Lisieux. They come from every corner of the globe, most of them not overly wealthy corners like Vietnam and Congo and Burkhina Faso. Their job is to take care of pilgrims. They prepare their meals here. They sing at every meal too (quite nicely.) They don't wear habits but they do wear these kind of giant scapular things at offices and mass (think what I wear but like the jumbo size you'd win at a carnival if anyone ever gave away scapulars for knocking down milk bottles). They glow with peace and joy. I'm not used to strangers being so instantly interested in me as a person.

One from Burkhina Faso said she likes France but really misses home. "People here are rich in material things, but at home, we're rich in other things...relationships mostly." Another who speaks very good English having spent six years there with a carmelite community (I think) in upstate New York, spent a good fifteen minutes telling me how, next to Burkhina Faso, she loves America (wow, don't hear that every day). Apparently she met some really incredible people who have changed her whole outlook on life.

Well, the US is a really big country and there's bound to be extraordinarily holy and down-to-earth people somewhere. Apparently they're in upstate New York.

I take this to mean that as a country we have our share of good points. And man, these missionaries really have a talent for accepting people as they are. "Stay who you are," she said, "keep up the good work..." I have her email address and I need to write her.

I kept ending up at meals with this skinny balding guy from the north of France (I thought we were in the North of France...apparently he meant almost in Belgium North) who turned out to be a priest and this family with two boys. Dinner started out awkwardly with no one having anything to say that wasn't directly related to the sights we were all there to see, progressed to things about the state of the church at large, and ended up with the father of the family grilling the priest on how many vocations his diocese turned out and whether or not they had adoration (phew). The priest starts protesting to the father's protestations about how churches aren't doing things according to the book anymore that it's hard for a priest to find a balance between orthodoxy and mercy.

And yeah, it's impossible for human beings.

That's why priests need prayer!!!

anyway...

I saw lots of things and I'll show y'all more pictures at some point...but it was just good to be there...I saw lots and lots of relics and famous places in Rome, and it was incredible, but I never felt the peace there that I felt next to St. Therese's tomb...like she's just waiting for people to ask her help, for health, for holiness...and ideas that you're not worthy of any favors or that you can't be holy like her just melt in that peace...