On 28th August 1944, Blessed Alphonsus Maria Mazurek of the Holy Spirit, a priest and martyr of the Carmelite Order was arrested by Nazi soldiers. He was Shot briefly afterwards and died soon after, with his rosary in his hands. His liturgical feast day is June 12.
*AUGUST 28, 1877* – *Saint Zélie Guérin* , mother of St. Thérèse of Lisieux, died when Thérèse was four years old. Zélie had wanted to be a nun. When she was not accepted, she married Louis E. Martin, who was also not admitted to religious life. As a married woman, she prayed, “Give me, Lord, many children, and may they all be consecrated to You.” She was a Franciscan tertiary. Her confessor said of her, “I have known many strong souls, but none as strong as you.” She was declared Venerable, along with her husband, in 1994 by Pope John Paul II. All of her daughters became nuns. Among them was St. Thérèse of Lisieux. She was proclaimed a Saint along with her husband, Louis Martin, and canonized in Rome on October 18, 2015.
The Lord transported St. Teresa of Jesus in an imaginary vision to hell, so that she might see the condition of the souls of the damned there. From this vision, St. Teresa drew a great fear and care for serving God, a resolve determination to flee from the shadow of sin, and a desire to save souls.
Teresa writes in the Book of Life about a frightening vision she had of Hell and how it haunted her the rest of her life. When writing the vision down she experienced the same bone-chilling feelings run throughout her body.
I found myself, as I thought, plunged right into Hell. I realized that it was the Lord’s will that I should see the place which the devils had prepared for me there and which I had merited for my sins. This happened in the briefest space of time, but, even if I were to live for many years, I believe it would be impossible for me to forget it. The entrance, I thought, resembled a very long, narrow passage, like a furnace, very low, dark and closely confined; the ground seemed to be full of water which looked like filthy, evil-smelling mud, and in it were many wicked-looking reptiles. At the end there was a hollow place scooped out of a wall, like a cupboard, and it was here that I found myself in close confinement. But the sight of all this was pleasant by comparison with what I felt there … My feelings, I think, could not possibly be exaggerated, nor can anyone understand them. I felt a fire within my soul the nature of which I am utterly incapable of describing … I had been put in this place which looked like a hole in the wall, and those very walls, so terrible to the sight, bore down upon me and completely stifled me. There was no light and everything was in the blackest darkness.
It was a terrifying experience, but she fully understood why God allowed her to see first-hand the torments of Hell.
[T]his vision was one of the most signal favors which the Lord has bestowed upon me: it has been of the greatest benefit to me, both in taking from me all fear of the tribulations and disappointments of this life and also in strengthening me to suffer them and to give thanks to the Lord, Who, as I now believe, has delivered me from such terrible and never-ending torments.
Furthermore, this vision moved St. Teresa to experience great sadness over those people who were drawing near to that destination, through their deliberate choices.
It also inspired me with fervent impulses for the good of souls: for I really believe that, to deliver a single one of them from such dreadful tortures, I would willingly die many deaths. After all, if we see anyone on earth who is especially dear to us suffering great trial or pain, our very nature seems to move us to compassion, and if his sufferings are severe they oppress us too.
Instead of experiencing satisfaction at the justice of those souls being eternally damned, she wanted to save them, offering herself as a living sacrifice.
Saint Therese of the Child Jesus, in the ‘Yellow Notebook’ of her ‘Last Conversations’ writes, “It’s said in the Gospel that God will come like a thief. He will come to steal me away in the nicest way possible. Oh, how I’d love to aid the Thief!”
Then on July 7, after she has once again coughed up blood, her sister Pauline (Mother Agnes of Jesus) asks her: “Are you afraid of the Thief? This time he is at the door!” To which Thérèse replies at once: “No, he’s not at the door, he’s already come in. But how can you ask me, my dear Mother, whether I’m afraid of the Thief? How could I be afraid of someone I love so much?!”
Three days later, on July 10, after another hemoptysis around midnight, Thérèse exclaims: “No one can make me last one minute longer than the Thief wants.”
Finally, on July 31, she returns three times to the image of the thief. To Pauline she says: “Yes, I’ll steal. …Many things will disappear from Heaven because I’ll bring them to you. I’ll be a little thief; I’ll take whatever I please.” And later the same day she even makes up, in colloquial French, a humorous little jingle about her awaited intruder: The Thief will come, and take me off, Alleluia!
Still later that day she uses the image for the last time: “I was thinking I should be a dear and wait for the Thief very quietly.” What is most impressive in all of this is the way in which, during her last agony and with her usual playfulness, so indicative of interior freedom,
St. Thérèse accomplishes a living exegesis of the Gospel text, rewriting it quite literally with her lifeblood, which was flowing out of her lungs in the frequent bouts of hemoptysis common in those suffering from tuberculosis. We know how excruciating her sufferings became toward the end. Among the last words that her sister Celine (Sister Genevieve) recorded on September 30, minutes before Thérèse died, we read the very last words are: “My God …I …love you!” In her painful death, Thérèse joyously welcomes the active intervention of the One who promises solemnly: “And when I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also” (Jn 14:3). “Behold, I make all things new” (Rev 21:5).
What about you and me? Do we hold on to our world? Do we think our life is eternal? Or are we waiting to be taken by God, ready to leave this world to an eternal life with Him.
The Lord wanted me while in this state to see sometimes the following vision: I saw close to me toward my left side an angel in bodily form. I don’t usually see angels in bodily form except on rare occasions; although many times angels appear to me, but without my seeing them, as in the intellectual vision I spoke about before [cf. Life, 27:2, 28:4]
This time, though, the Lord desired that I see the vision in the following way: the angel was not large but small; he was very beautiful, and his face was so aflame that he seemed to be one of those very sublime angels that appear to be all afire. They must belong to those they call the cherubim, for they didn’t tell me their names.
But I see clearly that in heaven there is so much difference between some angels and others and between these latter and still others that I wouldn’t know how to explain it.
I saw in his hands a large golden dart and at the end of the iron tip there appeared to be a little fire. It seemed to me this angel plunged the dart several times into my heart and that it reached deep within me. When he drew it out, I thought he was carrying off with him the deepest part of me; and he left me all on fire with great love of God.
The pain was so great that it made me moan, and the sweetness this greatest pain caused me was so superabundant that there is no desire capable of taking it away; nor is the soul content with less than God.
The pain is not bodily but spiritual, although the body doesn’t fail to share in some of it, and even a great deal. The loving exchange that takes place between the soul and God is so sweet that I beg Him in goodness to give a taste of this love to anyone who thinks I am lying.
On the days this lasted, I went about as though stupefied. I desired neither to see nor to speak, but to clasp my suffering close to me, for to me it was greater glory than all creation.
The Book of Her Life, 29:13–14
Another type of prayer quite frequent is a kind of wound in which it seems as though an arrow is thrust into the heart, or into the soul itself. Thus the wound causes a severe pain which makes the soul moan; yet, the pain is so delightful the soul would never want it to go away. This pain is not in the senses, nor is the sore a physical one, but the pain lies in the interior depths of the soul without resemblance to bodily pain.
Yet, since the experience cannot be explained save through comparisons, these rough comparisons are used (I mean rough when compared to what the experience is); but I don’t know how to describe it any other way. For this reason, these are not things to be written about or spoken of, because it’s impossible to understand them unless one has experienced them. I mention the interior depths this pain reaches because spiritual sufferings are extremely different from physical ones. From this fact, I deduce how much greater the sufferings of souls in hell and purgatory are than what can be understood of them from bodily sufferings here on earth.
Spiritual Testimonies, 59:17
St. John of the Cross was declared a Doctor of the Church by Pope Pius XI on August 24, 1926 by the Apostolic Letter “Die Vicessima”. He is formally recognized as the “Mystical Doctor” (Doctor mysticus) due to his profound teachings on mystical theology.
On 24th August 1562, in Avila, the first monastery of the Teresian Carmelite Reform, The Carmel of Saint Joseph was founded in Avila.
Saint Teresa of Ávila inaugurated the reform of the Carmelite Order. It was the most authentic of all possible reforms because it began with the most valid of origins: a personal reform of her own life. She was not a crusader for reform, nor did she envision herself as a reformer: it was a role that was thrust upon her. But in the process of recasting her own life in the way she felt the Lord was leading her, she returned the Order to its original ideal. “We are of the race of those holy fathers of Mount Carmel,” she stated emphatically [Cf. The Interior Castle, V.1.2.].
A small group of nuns and visitors present for worship on the feast of the Blessed Virgin of Mount Carmel on July 16, 1560, were discussing the obstacles to a life of prayer presented by the large number of nuns living in the monastery [of the Incarnation] and the visitors.
María de Ocampo, a young relative of the saint and a celebrated beauty, suggested that someone should establish a monastery in which the life of the ancient hermits could be revived. In all seriousness, she offered her dowry for this. The next day Teresa told her trusted friend Doña Guiomar de Ulloa (a young widow who like her led a life of prayer under the strict direction of Fr. Baltasar Alvarez) of this conversation. Doña Guiomar enthusiastically took up the idea. But what was decisive was that the Lord himself was calling for the project.
“He assured me that he would be very well-served in a monastery I might found, that this house would become a star shedding the brightest light. God added that, even thought they had lost some of their earlier enthusiasm, the orders were nevertheless of great service to him. What would the world be if there were no more monasteries?” [Cf. The Book of Her Life, ch. 32, no. 11]
According to the will of the Lord, the new house was to be consecrated to St. Joseph.
SAINT EDITH STEIN
Love for Love: The life and works of St. Teresa of Jesus
12. St. Joseph’s of Avila, the First Monastery of the Reform
Once while I was recollected in this company I always bear with me in my soul, God seemed so present to me that I thought of St. Peter’s words: You are Christ, Son of the living God (Mt 16:16). For God was thus living in my soul. This presence is not like other visions, because it is accompanied by such living faith that one cannot doubt that the Trinity is in our souls by presence, power, and essence. It is an extremely beneficial thing to understand this truth.
Saint Teresa of Avila
Spiritual Testimonies, 49
If you want to go to heaven, call on Mary, because she is the gateway there. The easiest way to achieve salvation is to approach her pure heart, and ask her to intercede with God for us and beg his mercy. I don’t need to worry about the person who flees to her and trusts in her, for she speaks to God for us as a mother and obtains for us the grace of forgiveness.
The Queen of heaven and earth serves God and if we serve her well, we shall rule over the world and our enemies for to serve Mary is to reign.
Booklet for the Marian Congress at Leopoli (Lviv), 1905
