Carmelites and Snow

Carmelites love snow.  I have been blessed to know a number of very Holy Carmelite Nuns and Monks and they all love snow.  And I have myself always loved snow.  But what does snow have to do with Carmelites?  Well for those who are devoted to Saint Therese, and in particular for those Carmelite communities who today are devoted to her and are following her example and living as traditional Carmelites, they will know of a special incident in her life the showed how much she loved the snow.  And it seems to be a hallmark of her devotees that they too love snow.  Let us now listen to the Saint herself explain in her Autobiography, Story of a Soul, about this particular incident: 

And now my clothing day drew near. Contrary to all expectations, my Father had recovered from a second attack, and the Bishop fixed the ceremony for January 10. The time of waiting had been long indeed, but now what a beautiful feast! Nothing was wanting, not even snow. 

Do you remember my telling you, dear Mother, how fond I am of snow? While I was still quite small, its whiteness entranced me. Why had I such a fancy for snow? Perhaps it was because, being a little winter flower, my eyes first saw the earth clad in its beautiful white mantle. So, on my clothing day, I wished to see it decked, like myself, in spotless white. The weather was so mild that it might have been spring, and I no longer dared hope for snow. The morning of the feast brought no change and I gave up my childish desire, as impossible to be realised. My Father came to meet me at the enclosure door, his eyes full of tears, and pressing me to his heart exclaimed: "Ah! Here is my little Queen!" Then, giving me his arm, we made our solemn entry into the public Chapel. This was his day of triumph, his last feast on earth; now his sacrifice was complete, and his children belonged to God.  Céline had already confided to him that later on she also wished to leave the world for the Carmel. On hearing this he was beside himself with joy: "Let us go before the Blessed Sacrament," he said, "and thank God for all the graces He has granted us and the honour He has paid me in choosing His Spouses from my household. God has indeed done me great honour in asking for my children. If I possessed anything better I would hasten to offer it to Him." That something better was himself, "and God received him as a victim of holocaust; He tried him as gold in the furnace, and found him worthy of Himself." 

After the ceremony in the Chapel I re-entered the Convent and the Bishop intoned the Te Deum. One of the Priests observed to him that this hymn of thanksgiving was only sung at professions, but, once begun, it was continued to the end. Was it not right that this feast should be complete, since in it all other joyful days were reunited? 

The instant I set foot in the enclosure again my eyes fell on the statue of the Child Jesus smiling on me amid the flowers and lights; then, turning towards the quadrangle, I saw that, in spite of the mildness of the weather, it was covered with snow. What a delicate attention on the part of Jesus! Gratifying the least wish of His little Spouse, He even sent her this. Where is the creature so mighty that he can make one flake of it fall to please his beloved? 

Everyone was amazed, and since then many people, hearing of my desire, have described this event as "the little miracle" of my clothing day, and thought it strange I should be so fond of snow. So much the better, it shows still more the wonderful condescension of the Spouse of Virgins—of Him Who loves lilies white as the snow.

Traditionalist Pride and Why We Shouldn't Burn Heretics

Being a "Traditionalist Catholic", though I take issue with that title as I've explained before (and here is why), I admit that I myself am guilty of this pride that is all too common among Traditionalists (as Father Ripperger explains here in his "Traditionalist Problems" sermon...see section #2 of sermons).  

We feel that we are better than our fellow Catholics because we possess the truth concerning the Catholic faith and not the twisted and bastardized version pawned off by many prelates today (wittingly or unwittingly).  We think because we attend authentic Catholic liturgies (i.e. the ancient Roman or Byzantine Rites, ect) that we are somehow better than our peers who attend the Novus Ordo.  Sometimes we are more aware of this, but mostly I suspect it is as pride always is: rather insidious and often undetected without much self-examination.

But I know that for me, someone who has been exclusively attending the Classical Form of the Roman Rite (aka Traditional Latin Mass aka "Tridentine" Mass aka "Gregorian" Mass aka Extraordinary Form of the Roman Rite) for the last 10+ years, that there are many people I know who while ignorant of much are far holier than I.  

Thankfully and mercifully, God granted me the grace to come to know myself not quite 7 years ago.  I came to understand just how little I really knew, just how prideful I really was, and how I ought not trust in my own opinions but rather in the wisdom of the Saints, the teaching of the Church, and words of our Lord Himself.  This is not to say that I am now somehow holy for knowing this, but rather simply that I know that I am not.

One of the most interesting things I was given was the letter written by Saint Thomas Aquinas to a fellow Dominican Brother who had asked his advice on how to study in which he said: 

"Do not consider who the person is you are listening to, but whatever good he says commit to memory."

And this seems to us very counterintuitive, doesn't it?  So often we want to write off this or that person or even this or that priest because they don't seem to be very holy or maybe because they say the Novus Ordo we think they can't possibly be a good or trustworthy priest (I know some people who think this way).

Now sometimes we even may know a priest is good and holy and trustworthy, but then he starts saying things that seem contrary to what we thought was the case.  Are we then simply rejecting what they say out of hand?  Or do we stop and think and consider if possibly we may have had an erroneous position until now?

I know that it is all too easy to be very sure of oneself.  There was a time when I was intolerably dogmatic in every opinion I had and fought vociferously with anyone who opposed me as if they had contradicted the Sacred Scriptures or one of the Holy Councils.  But thanks to the council of a good priest and the grace of God I began to be more reflective and thoughtful, and most importantly I learned a little humility.

From then on if I encountered something that seemed contrary to what I believed to be true I would not dismiss it out of hand, but rather I would try to discover what the truth in fact was through prayer and study.  And I will be honest that this made for some painful realizations of past error and some changes in opinion that threatened to alienate even some of my closest friends.

One such experience that I had in the fall of 2015 is illustrative of what I am getting at: at Sunday Mass I listened to a sermon preached on the Gospel [Matthew 13:24-30], which you can listen to here (it's only 8 minutes). 

My initial impression was to reject what Father was saying and to cling to the notions I previously had on the subject, but remembering my rule for such occasions I decided to look into what he had said to see for myself what the truth was.

I took time over the next week and spent time praying and meditating on what he had said and also upon the commentary given by Saint Thomas Aquinas in his Catena Aurea on this very Gospel, which you can read yourself here.

And I stand corrected.

Let us then be humble in our discourse with others, and especially with priests and religious.  Let us seek to understand their position if we do no understand it or do not agree.  Give then a chance to explain themselves, and/or spend the time to research the subject yourself, and most importantly spend time in prayer and meditation on the subject and ask our Lord for light.

Delve into the rich patrimony of the Catholic Church, especially in Her Ecumenical Councils, decrees of Popes, and the clear teaching of the Doctors of the Church, much of which you can find online here.