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access to Church History
Among her most ardent admirers were people as diverse as the philosopher
Henri Bergson, the chanteuse Edith Piaf, and writer Georges Bernanos in
France; the English Bloomsbury author, Vita Sackville-West; and in Ameri-
ca, Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk, and Dorothy Day, a leader of the
Catholic Worker Movement. She has been the subject of at least four films.
The most recent, Therese, won an award at Cannes in 1986. Day and
Sackville-West each contributed a book to the enormous literature that has
emerged to retell the saint's life and to explain and praise her spir
lessons.3
This literature is, indeed, so vast that it would seem there is little left to say.
But as Claude Savart wrote in his review of books published during her
centenary, one issue has gone unexplored: "the posthumous history of
Therese," "the history of the thunderous popular acclaim for an obscure nun
who died at the age of 24 in the depth of a convent in a little provincial
town."4
The research for this article was aided by a summer research grant from the University of
Oregon. I also would like to thank Father Theodore N. Centala, O.C.D., Brookline, Massachu-
setts, for his generously offered information and insight.
1. This statement is frequently quoted; for example, see Rent Laurentin, Therese de Lisieux.
Mythes et Realite (Paris, 1972), p. 13.
2. Although there is now some question about whether or not Therese ever used this phrase, it
is inextricably identified with her name. See Rene Laurentin and Jean-Francois Six,
Therese de Lisieux: Dialogue entre Rene Laurentin et Jean-Francois Six (Paris, 1973),
p. 96.
3. Dorothy Day, Therese (Springfield, Ill., 1960), and Vita Sackville, The Eagle and the Dove
(London,1943).
4. "Bulletin d'histoire de la spiritualite: L'Epoque contemporaine," Revue d'histoire de la
spiritualite 50 (1974): 190.
5. For example, The Story of the Canonization of S. Therese de Lisieux (London, 1934); Proces
de Beatification et canonisation de Sainte Therese de l'Enfant-Jesus et de la Sainte-face
2 vols. (Rome, 1973, 1976); Christopher O'Mahoney, ed., St. Therese of Lisieux by Those
Who Knew Her (Dublin, 1975).
6. The best-known works dealing with the reconstruction of Therese are Ida F. Girres, Th
Hidden Face: A Study of Therese of Lisieux, trans. Richard Winstor and Clara Winstor, 8th
rev. ed. (New York, 1959); Etienne Robo, The Two Portraits of St. Therese of Lisieu
(Chicago, 1959); and Jean Francois Six, La Veritable Enfance de Therese de Lisieux (Paris
1972) and Therese de Lisieux au Carmel (Paris, 1973).
7. Henri Petitot quoted such an accusation at length in Saint Theresa of Lisieux: A Spiritu
Renascence, trans. Benedictines of Stanbrook (London, 1927), pp. xiii-xv. Maurice Privat
accused the businessmen and the sisters in Saint Therese de Lisieux (Paris, 1932). Pierre
Mabille's contention that Therese had a case of schizophrenia fostered by her social and
religious milieu is perhaps the most famous attack: Therese de Lisieux (Paris, 1937); new ed
(Paris, 1975).
when Therese overheard her beloved father grumbling about still having to
fill her shoes with gifts. Instead of showing how hurt she was by his criticism
that she was too old for such attentions, she gathered her courage and, actin
as if she had not heard his remarks, managed to make this last childhoo
Christmas an occasion for great joy. This hiding of sacrifices with smiles was
the modus vivendi of her famous spiritual example. As a result of this
"conversion," the saint wrote, "Therese was not the same girl, Jesus had
changed her. ... He made me a fisher of men. I longed to work for the
conversion of sinners with a passion I'd never felt before. Love filled m
heart. I forgot myself and henceforth I was happy."8
By the time Therese was fifteen, she was so intent on devoting her life to
God that she asked her father to let her enter the Carmelite convent. He
reluctantly agreed. Yet the rules stated that one could not become a
contemplative before the age of sixteen. With the support of her family,
Therese asked, in succession, the prioress of the convent, the bishop of
Bayeux, and the pope himself for a special dispensation. Her request to the
pope came during a pilgrimage she made to Rome with her father and sister.
She spoke out despite the repeated and explicit injunction that no one should
talk to the Holy Father. Further, when she did not get a satisfactory answer
from Leo XIII, she clung to his knees until she was pulled off by papal
guards. This incident points to one of the most salient features of the "little
flower": a will of iron. Within a few months of her return to France, Therese
was admitted to the Carmelite convent in her hometown, Lisieux. She lived
there for less than nine years, for in 1897, at the age of 24, she died of
consumption. On her deathbed she promised to send a "shower of roses" from
heaven and to spend her life there "doing good on earth."
Therese wrote her famous autobiography, The Story of a Soul, in three
parts during the last two and a half years of her life. More than half of it was
devoted to the loving reminiscences of childhood. In Therese's portrait of
8. Therese Martin, The Autobiography of Therese of Lisieux: The Story of a Soul, trans. John
Beevers (Garden City, N.Y., 1957), pp. 62-63.
family life, mama and papa never said a mean word and the children were
thoroughly devoted to their parents and to each other. It was a family which
considered its members to be special, and the most special of all was "baby,"
Therese, who at a very young age declared that she was going to become a
great saint. There was always much talk of prayer, devotions, sacraments,
little sacrifices, pilgrimages, miracles, and death. Only a few outsiders were
welcome: the workers who worked on Zelie's lace; the servants; Therese's
aunt, uncle, and cousins; and a Jesuit advisor, Father Pichon.
This tight-knit family formed such a protective and ideal cocoon for
Therese that nothing outside could ever measure up to it. She suffered during
the time that she spent at day school. She was repelled by the temptations of
the world presented to her by visits to local ladies. And if her one great
journey to Rome introduced her to God's natural wonders and the church's
relics, it also reinforced her notion that everything shaped by human
"creatures" was mere vanity-everything from the jelly that sinks repulsively
into bread to the world's notion of social ranks to, most importantly, human
relationships. Human relationships are played out in time and must change
and pass. Thus Therese learned early to look forward to eternity, to
unchanging love, to mothers who never died or went away, and to a heavenly
father, as kind as her own but infinitely more effective and powerful.
The convent formed a much less comfortable but equally tight cocoon.
When Therese arrived the prioress went out of her way not to treat this
unusually young charge with indulgence. In fact, according to Therese, she
was manifestly indifferent. Later Therese expressed her gratitude for this
indifference, for she felt it was part of God's plan for her. It seemed to help
her to isolate herself increasingly from "natural" relationships in order to
devote herself, as much as obedience to the rule would allow, to her spiritual
relationship with Jesus. It also, according to Therese, reinforced her notion of
her own "littleness" and helped her to formulate the famous theology of "the
little way." Therese often described her spiritual vocation of love in terms
which seem at once childish and hyperbolic. At various times she expressed
the wish to become a ball for Jesus, a mere plaything, or, even better, a grain
of sand. Finally in 1889 she reached the climax of her journey when she was
able, with the permission of her mother superior, to offer herself as a
"sacrificial victim" of Jesus's love.
The outward manifestations of the "little way" are a series of sacrifices
that became the anecdotal inheritance of millions of Catholics. These
Theresienne examples demonstrate how average or "little souls" could
do good, no matter where they were. For example, Therese listene
grumbling, sick old nun in silence for ten whole minutes at a time. T
did not turn back to look at a nun whose constant noises bothered her du
services. Nor did she reproach another nun who splashed dirty water on
face while doing the laundry. Finally, for the nun who, through no faul
Therese became the guardian of many soldiers in the trenches of the Firs
World War. After it was over, the military medals sent in gratitude for he
help and consolation filled the walls of the parlor at the Lisieux Conven
Her memory brought about conversions on all continents.'5 There we
orphanages named for her in London and children's contests about her in th
English Catholic press.'6 In America before the war, one Catholic newspa
in Saint Louis, Missouri, printed several columns of acknowledgements e
week for her; her fame grew even more rapidly in the United States after h
canonization.17 Several shrines were built in her name, and Father Charles E
Coughlin, the controversial "radio priest," called his national broadcast "
Golden Hour of the Little Flower." She was also the inspiration for th
French worker-priest movement after the Second World War. Today h
thaumaturgical powers are still recognized among "little souls" in vario
parts of the world. The national shrine in San Antonio, Texas, prints
biweekly reports of her favors; and in central Paris she still may be the mo
frequently invoked saint.'8
The explanation that most pious writers offer for her thunderous acclaim
is that it was a spontaneous cry of recognition by ordinary people who hear
her message and understood that it was meant for them. There is certai
some truth to this explanation, but it is disingenuous to claim that it is
whole story. To some extent Therese's canonization and popularity we
orchestrated by her faithful entourage. When Therese died, three of h
siblings and one cousin also resided in her convent. During her final illn
they carefully collected the articles she used and touched (including h
eyelashes and tears) as relics. Therese, perhaps jokingly, even tore roses apar
for this purpose. The publication of the Story, too, was a rather audaci
affair. So was the epitaph which Sister Agnes chose for Therese's gravestone
"I will spend my Heaven in doing good upon earth."'9 Therese's relativ
may not have foreseen official canonization, but they certainly were willing
communicate news of her sanctity and possible miracle-working abili
outside the convent walls. Undeniably, one reason for Therese's fame was he
reputed thaumaturgical power.
Further, Therese seemed like a saint, and the onset of the process o
canonization, which was reported in the Catholic press by 1906, furth
14. Edward F. Garesche, The Teachings of the Little Flower (New York, 1925), p. 20.
15. Two famous converts were the American writer Michael Williams, who speaks about
conversion in The Book of High Romance: A Spiritual Autobiography (New York, 192
and Chinese magistrate John Wu, who tells his story in The Science of Love: A Study of
Teachings of Therese de Lisieux (Hong Kong, 1941).
16. "The Little Flower," The Messenger of the Sacred Heart 41 (July 1915): 248.
17. Williams, Book of High Romance, pp. 274-275.
18. See The Apostolate of the Little Flower, published since 1922; Stephen Wilson, "Cul
Saints in the Churches of Central Paris," in Saints and their Cults: Studies in Religio
Sociology, Folklore and History, ed. Stephen Wilson (London, 1983), pp. 233-257.
19. G6rres, The Hidden Face, p. 391.
20. Pierre Delooz, Sociologie et canonisations (Liege, 1969), pp. 27, 183, 352-353.
21. These notables include Francois Veuillot, the French journalist who "broke" the story of the
canonization in 1906, and Monsignor Thomas Taylor, a Scottish Sulpician priest who
promoted her cause in the British Isles and in Rome.
22. See especially Barbara Welter, "The Feminization of American Religion, 1800-1860,"
reprinted in Dimity Convictions (Athens, Ohio, 1976), and Ann Douglas, The Feminization
of American Culture (New York, 1977).
the ideal, while men more and more directed their attention to the pu
sphere of politics and economics. Industrialization, which separated the hom
from production, undergirded and shaped this ideology of domesticity. So d
increasing male participation in the democratized political life of the n
republic. Men who competed for places and wealth in the secular publ
sphere needed to exhibit the "masculine" qualities of toughness and rationali
ty. Women and the churches became the repository for such virtues
humility, charity, submissiveness, and piety. In popular "secular" literat
women often starred as Christlike victims who died declaring their faith or
love or forgiveness. It is not without reason that Ann Douglas, in the b
known work on the subject, has conflated sentimentalization and domestific
tion as "feminization."
Similar economic, political, and religious trends occurred in parts of
Europe as well as America. But when historians of France began to speak of a
"feminisation" of Catholicism, they usually were referring to numbers an
quantifiable practices rather than changes in dogma or increased female
influence. The numbers are, indeed, quite remarkable. Although the figure
do vary by region and social class, both impressionistic and statistical dat
consistently show that during the nineteenth century men were a smal
minority of those who regularly attended mass and confessed their sins to a
priest. One recent estimate claims that women comprised 75 percent of
practicing Catholics. Male socialibility, which once had found an outlet in the
religious confraternities controlled by the laity, was migrating to the intellec
tual gathering, the tavern, and political activity. Women, however, increas
ingly were organized into the church by means of Catholic education,
sodalities, and charitable pursuits. In addition, women were entering
religious orders in record numbers, especially in the second half of the
century, whereas the church had to work very hard to assure enough priests
for French parishes.23
Although most French historians ignore the issue of female influence upon
church dogma and practices, it would seem that in virtue of their very
numbers women would affect choices about the relative importance of certain
devotions, the "beauty" of various artistic styles, and the ranking of ethical
concerns within nineteenth-century Catholicism. The most obvious sign of
this feminized sensibility was the fact that devotion more and more focused on
the Holy Family, the increasingly androgynized image of the Sacred Heart of
Jesus, and the Blessed Virgin. Indeed, this period became known as the
Marian era because of the widely reported apparitions at LaSalette, Lourdes
23. Much recent research is summarized in Francois Lebrun et al., Histoire des catholiques e
France du XVe siecle a nos jours (Paris, 1980), pp. 321-452, and in Olwen Hufton, "The
Reconstruction of the Church, 1794-1801," in Beyond the Terror: Essays in French
Regional and Social History 1794-1815, ed. Gwynne Lewis and Colin Lucas (Cambridge,
1983).
24. Quoted in Claude Savart, "A Recherche de l"art' dit de Saint-Sulpice," Revue d'histoire de
la spiritualite 52 (1976): 282.
earmarks of a local, peasant affair. But the church moved quickly to approv
the pilgrimage and tie it to the sacramental system.25 Other revived or new
devotions included the saying of the rosary and the way of the cross,
adoration of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, the assistance at novenas a
first Fridays, and renewed emphasis on praying to saints as intermediaries
God's grace and favors.26 Relatively little attention was paid to liturgic
reform, except for Pius X's mandate for earlier and more frequent comm
nion.
25. For a similar interpretation, see Thomas Kselman, Miracles and Prophecies in Nineteenth-
Century France (Rutgers, 1983), and Bill McSweeny, Roman Catholicism: The Search for
Relevance (Oxford, 1979).
26. For an excellent summary and analysis of new and revitalized nineteenth-century devotions,
see Ann Taves, The Household of Faith: Roman Catholic Devotions in Mid-Nineteenth-
Century America (Notre Dame, 1986).
27. Jean-FranCois Six gives the most details about Guerin's political connections in his
two-volume biography. See especially La Veritable Enfance, pp. 151-172.
28. Lucie Delarue-Mardrus, St. Therese of Lisieux: A Biography, trans. Helen Y. Chase
(London, 1929), p. 34.
29. Many authors described childhood scenes or asked their readers to imagine them. One
nonreader who daydreamed about her image of Therese-as-a-girl was Madame Lucie, who
spent her teenaged years in Lisieux before and during World War I. Bonnie Smith,
Confessions of a Concierge: Madame Lucie's History of Twentieth-Century France (New
Haven, 1985), pp. 28-31.
30. Konstantin Kamph, as quoted in G6rres, Hidden Face, p. 12.
31. Joseph Daley, A Saint of Today (New York, 1936), p. 55.
32. Douglas, Feminization of American Culture, pp. 3-6.
account of consumption paled before the real life suffering of the soi-disan
"little Therese" and her real golden locks.
The Martin family romance is closely linked to model girlhood. It, to
realized clearly articulated Catholic ideals. Zelie was a mother who, acco
ing to one priest, "had no fear of the pains of childbirth" and did not worr
about "restricting her freedom or curtailing her pleasures."33 This w
home in which everyone loved each other and kept the faith. It was als
family which escaped adolescent rebellion and the invasion of new ideas. Thi
portrait would have been particularly comforting to those who were scorne
because they aspired to the religious life or wanted to raise a priest or nun.
also would have comforted families that had faced multiple births and death
In the tale of the Martins love triumphed over death, and Catholics could fi
validation for their values and beliefs. The family romance seems to be
most obvious attraction of Therese's Story for several reasons: the lovi
detail given to domestic life in the autobiography itself; the number
collective and individual biographies that have been written about
Martins; and the fact that some people have always felt that Therese'
parents should be canonized.34
Because Therese has always been extolled as a saint for ordinary or
people, a third way of reading the autobiography is much less appare
Therese's realistic portrayal of religious life must have been appealing
many of the priests who analyzed and publicized her work. A few of th
called her "virile" in recognition of her courage and hardiness.35 T
designation obviously underscores the particular identification that these m
felt with this very feminine saint. Another indication of this bond appears
the quotation which appeared again and again in the biographies, Bernard
Clairvaux's maxim that "my principal penance is community life." Th
quote obviously expresses the difficulties of pursuing a religious vocati
Indeed, as Therese described it, the only satisfying aspect of her profess
was her relationship with God; and that relationship was satisfying n
because of unusual raptures or visions or gifts, but because of Therese's tota
acceptance and trust in God's love. She suffered periods of spiritual dryn
and, as she got sicker, even doubts. In the convent she was profoundly alone
as most celibate clergy are, and she felt she was misunderstood by he
community. Members of the clergy felt close to her, despite her youth and t
38. For an analysis of the interrelationship of female experience, religion, and anti-modernity,
see Bonnie Smith, Ladies of the Leisure Class: The Bourgeoises of Northern France in the
Nineteenth Century (Princeton, 1981).