'The Gift of Dialogue': Ecclesiam Suam and Christian Dialogue with Non-Christians

Dear All

We really had a stunning conference at Twickenham this week on Ecclesiam Suam. I think in retrospect we took a risk inviting people to dialogue and relying on 3 days of intense study of one Vatican document. Yet it paid great dividends and all agreed that one of the stars of the week was Pope Paul VI and this extraordinary document. If you go on the Vatican website you can download it for free. As the week went on I realised that Ecclesiam Suam opens up a theological space where dialogue can occur... with other Christians, non-Christians and those of no faith. I attach below part of my paper that clarifies this idea. Stephen Bullivant and I are now collating the papers for hopeful publication soon. We have also video recorded two of the dialogues: Those between Dr Mustafa Baig and Abbot Timothy Wright on Islam-Christian Dialogue and between Dr Jonathan Gorsky and Prof Mary Boys on Jewish-Christian Dialogue (both pictured - with Dr Lynne Scholefield). Once I have these links I will post them on here. I am of course extremely grateful to all who participated especially our exceptional speakers. As events darken in the Middle East it is good to know there are beacons of light still burning...

I write this in San Antonio, Texas where I have just touched down to begin a 2-week summer school at the Oblate School of Theology on Teresa of Avila... More of this anon...

best for now

Peter

Dialogue according to Ecclesiam Suam

As we have seen throughout this conference Ecclesiam Suam gives three aims for dialogue. The first is to achieve greater self-knowledge not only for all of those engaged in dialogue but indeed to help the Church learn in greater depth about the nature of the mystery of revelation:

We are convinced that the Church must look with penetrating eyes within itself, ponder the mystery of its own being, and draw enlightenment and inspiration from a deeper scrutiny of the doctrine of its own origin, nature, mission, and destiny. (ES:9)

Hiding behind this goal is the necessary separation the document makes between the full revelation as given by Christ to the Church (‘the holy and spotless Bride’) and our current understanding or interpretation of this revelation which will necessarily be fostered by engagement with the perspectives of our non-Christian colleagues:

A vivid and lively self-awareness on the part of the Church inevitably leads to a comparison between the ideal image of the Church as Christ envisaged it, His holy and spotless bride, and the actual image which the Church presents to the world today.

But the actual image of the Church will never attain to such a degree of perfection, beauty, holiness and splendor that it can be said to correspond perfectly with the original conception in the mind of Him who fashioned it. (ES:10)

Or as Levy puts it:

         

          One does not need to deny the fullness of God’s revelation in

Christ in order to acknowledge the existence of a saving wisdom

in non-Christian religions — a wisdom which, on many points, has

something to teach our present understanding of God as derived from

the revelation of Jesus-Christ. The key to the solution does not lie in

the distance between the pre-existent Logos and the historical Christ,

but in the distance between Christ, in whom dwells the fullness of

the Logos, and the content of wisdom which the Church, through her

meditation on Christ’s Gospel, has till now been able to draw from

this fullness. (Levy p.17)

 

As he continues: ‘What is revealed is one thing — quite another thing is

what we are able to grasp of this revelation, even with the help of

the Holy Spirit’. Thus, with our co-religionists, we work on the nature of revelation given by Christ, inspired by the Holy Spirit. Ecclesiam Suam thus suggests that the process of dialogue will inevitably lead us all to greater self-understanding of the original revelation of Christ. This process of ‘defamiliarisation’, as Levy calls it, leads, according to Ecclesiam Suam, to the necessary renewal and reinvigoration of the Church (a reinvigoration, I would argue, nicely embodied in the person of Pope Francis):

Hence the Church's heroic and impatient struggle for renewal: the struggle to correct those flaws introduced by its members which its own self-examination, mirroring its exemplar, Christ, points out to it and condemns. (ES:11)

For the Church to be true to itself and its mission it must then, according to ES, engage in this dialogue with those beyond the boundaries of the Church:

 

We believe that it is a duty of the Church at the present time to strive toward a clearer and deeper awareness of itself and its mission in the world, and of the treasury of truth of which it is heir and custodian. (ES 18)

To adopt Erasmus’ translation of the opening lines of John’s Gospel, in the beginning the Logos is the conversation and this conversation will continue until the consummation of all things:

Here, then, Venerable Brethren, is the noble origin of this dialogue: in the mind of God Himself. Religion of its very nature is a certain relationship between God and man. It finds its expression in prayer; and prayer is a dialogue. Revelation, too, that supernatural link which God has established with man, can likewise be looked upon as a dialogue. In the Incarnation and in the Gospel it is God's Word that speaks to us. That fatherly, sacred dialogue between God and man, broken off at the time of Adam's unhappy fall, has since, in the course of history, been restored. Indeed, the whole history of man's salvation is one long, varied dialogue, which marvelously begins with God and which He prolongs with men in so many different ways.  (ES:70)

From this theological perspective the rest of the encyclical’s delineation of the nature of this dialogue inevitably follows. Thus it must be:

·        Non-coercive: ‘No physical pressure was brought on anyone to accept the dialogue of salvation; far from it. It was an appeal of love.’ (ES:75)

·        Universal: ‘The dialogue of salvation was made accessible to all. It applied to everyone without distinction. Hence our dialogue too should be as universal as we can make it.’ (ES: 76)

·        Its aim is not conversion: ‘If, in our desire to respect a man's freedom and dignity, his conversion to the true faith is not the immediate object of our dialogue with him, we nevertheless try to help him and to dispose him for a fuller sharing of ideas and convictions.’ (ES:79)

·        Its aim is to produce clarity in all participants: ‘Clarity before all else; the dialogue demands that what is said should be intelligible. We can think of it as a kind of thought transfusion. It is an invitation to the exercise and development of the highest spiritual and mental powers a man possesses.’ (ES: 81)

·        Expressed through ordinary language: ‘All of us who feel the spur of the apostolate should examine closely the kind of speech we use. Is it easy to understand? Can it be grasped by ordinary people? Is it current idiom?’ (ES:81). ‘We must forego all privilege and the use of unintelligible language’. (ES:87)

·        Centred on humility: ‘It would indeed be a disgrace if our dialogue were marked by arrogance, the use of bared words or offensive bitterness... It is peaceful, has no use for extreme methods, is patient under contradiction and inclines towards generosity.’ (ES:81)

·        With confidence and in fellowship: ‘Dialogue promotes intimacy and friendship on both sides. It unites them in a mutual adherence to the Good, and thus excludes all self-seeking.’ (ES:81)

·        And adaptability: ‘The person who speaks is always at pains to learn the sensitivities of his audience, and if reason demands it, he adapts himself and the manner of his presentation to the susceptibilities and the degree of intelligence of his hearers.’ (ES:81)

We can thus characterise the model of dialogue presented by Ecclesiam Suam as one that is non-coercive, universal, clear, humble and adaptable, proceeding in fellowship without the aim of conversion and expressed in ordinary language,

 

Blessed Ramon Llull, the Trinity and the Kabbalists

I'm heading off to college shortly to start welcoming our first guests for the Dialogue Conference beginning tomorrow... amongst those arriving this evening are Prof Ivana Noble (Prague), Prof Sara Sviri (Jerusalem) and Prof Jose Nandhikkara (Bangalore). This being Trinity Sunday ( a nightmare for preachers) I thought I would share part of my paper dealing with how Llull uses his interpretation of the Doctrine of the Trinity to engage with the Kabbalists of 13th Century Catalonia...

Happy Feast of the Trinity!

Peter

 

Pring-Mill in his Trinitarian World Picture of Ramon Llull (1955) was the first modern commentator to remark the change in Llull’s works from a world picture, in accord with that of medieval precedent, based on the quaternity of the four elements and four humours to a later structure that is essentially Trinitarian in nature. The former is found in the earlier apologetic works, such as the Liber Principorum Medicinae, Libre de contemplació (1272), the Ars Magna (1274) and the Art demonstrativa (1275) whilst the latter begins to make itself apparent after about 1289, not long after the ‘illumination’ that Llull received on Mount Randa in Majorca. From this period onwards Llull develops his notion of what he refers to as the 9 ‘essential attributes’ (praedicata absoluta (1308), principia transcendentia (1306), vertus vertuoses essencials (1275) dignitats, usually referred to as the ‘dignities’).[1] In God’s self they are one in essence and mutually convertible, whereas they manifest themselves in various fashion throughout creation: Bonitas, Magnitudo, Aeternitas (or Duratio), Potestas, Sapientia, Voluntas, Virtus, Veritas and Gloria. Each Dignity is related to the cosmos by nine ‘Correlatives’: Differentia, Concordantia and Contrarietas, Principium, Medium and Finis and finally Maioritas, Aequalitas and Minoritas. Each Dignity contains within itself a intrinsic trinitarian formula which Llull characterised as the relationship between agent, patient and act. Thus from Bonitas we derive bonificativum, bonificabile and bonificare. ( Or in Catalan, from bonea we derive bonificant (the agent), bonificat or bonificable (the recipient) and bonificar (the act) ). As Pring-Mill states: ‘This fundamental triplicity is the basis of Lull’s developed Trinitarian doctrine. Imprinted on the universe by the Dignities, it gives this an ineradicbly Trinitarian structure, for the correlatives turn out to be ‘correlativa innata primitive, vera et necessaria in omnibus subjectis’ (Pring-Mill 5, Liber de Correlativis Innatis (1310)110). As Hames points out, it is noteworthy that when Llull presented his ideas in Paris he was derided for his ‘Arabic mode of speech’ (See AC:223) and indeed what he has done is to translate into a vernacular romance language the essential idiom of semitic languages such as Arabic and Hebrew where transitive and passive verb forms can be derived from a noun so that agent and patient can be referred. (Hames 2009: 201)

 This basic relationship in the Dignities between action, agent and patient is what allows Llull to make in his apologetic works a direct link between the structure of the cosmos as perceived in this fashion with the image of the relationship between the three persons of the Trinity. Thus this internal dynamism within the persons of the Trinity (and the Dignities) allows a unchanging Deity to create a changing cosmos.[2]

Now what is interesting from our investigation of dialogue in this conference is that as commentators such as Hames have pointed out (See Hames 2009 and Scholem; Idel, Kabbalah and “Dignitate”) this investigation of the attributes or ‘dignities’ of the Godhead is also being practised by contemporary Kabbalists within Spain’s Jewish community as the concept of the Sefirot (often in reaction to the viewpoint developed by scholars such as Maimonides).  In distinction to Llull’s nine Dignities, the Kabblists suggested there were ten Sefirot arising from the Ein sof (‘the Infinite’). As with Llull, each revealed a different aspect of the Godhead in creation and thus permitted a recognition and return to that same Godhead by humanity.  Hames gives us an example of what this imaginary dialogue may sound like:

Ramon: “I have now conclusively demonstrated the necessary existence of a Trinity in the divine Dignities which are the whole essence of God, and hence, the truth of the Christian faith.”

Solomon: “Ah, but what you have shown is that God is not a simple perfect being, in that there is a plurality of persons in the Dignities (Sefirot). We believe that God is one simple eternal being encompassing His Dignities (Sefirot).”

Ramon: “Listen carefully: the Trinity is not a plurality, because it is the very essence of God’s oneness and simplicity. Without this triune relationship, God could not be one in perfect simplicity, nor could creation have taken place without admitting change in the Godhead. This necessary eternal and internal dynamic within the Godhead is what we Christians call the Trinity: Father, Son and Holy Spirit, one in three,

three in one.”

Solomon: “Hmm, give me a moment to think about that one.” (Hames 2009: 205)

 

---

[1] For example in the Ars inventiva veritatis written in Montpelier in 1290.

[2] ‘the unity of God is of itself whole, in that it has

the nature of unient (agent), unit (patient) and unir (act of unifying) eternally and

infinitely in all its essence, in itself, and for itself, without which nature of unient,

unit, and unir, it would be unable to be whole of itself, because it would be empty

and idle . . . as would be the intellect if deprived of the nature of entenent (agent), entes

(patient) and entendre (the act of understanding).] ‘ (Libre de Déu 286; Hames 2009: 203)

 

'High Midsummer Pomps' - Vaughan-Williams' Oxford Elegy

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ob4y4ZO8i5M

 

    Just back from Rome it is a pleasure to see the garden burgeoning with lots of green. BBC Radio 3 are presently playing one piece of British music each day nominated by its listeners. I have just emailed them to suggest a wonderful late work of Ralph Vaughan-Williams: ‘The Oxford Elegy’ for narrator, semi-chorus and orchestra. Written late in his life I don’t think it is performed often because of its unusual combination of forces: as well as a first class choir and orchestra it must have a first-rate actor to speak the parts of Arnold’s wonderful poems upon which VW based his piece. There is something about the text, the English idyll of the ‘Dreaming Spires’ of Oxford and its environs, VW’s evocative music (just listen to the way he writes for the viola!) and the elegiac quality of a late piece clearly remembering his youthful ‘field days’ with Gustav Holst that makes this, for me, a quintessentially British piece. I attach a link to Youtube if you would like to listen to it and leave you with the words of Arnold, set by Vaughan-Williams, as we approach the summer solstice:

    ‘Soon will the high Midsummer pomps come on,
        Soon will the musk carnations break and swell,
    Soon shall we have gold-dusted snapdragon,
        Sweet-William with his homely cottage-smell,
            And stocks in fragrant blow;
    Roses that down the alleys shine afar,
        And open, jasmine-muffled lattices,
        And groups under the dreaming garden-trees,
    And the full moon, and the white evening-star.’ Pale pink convolvulus in tendrils creep;

               And air-swept lindens yield http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ob4y4ZO8i5Mhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ob4y4ZO8i5Mhttp://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ob4y4ZO8i5M

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AFFD2u-FreY

       And bower me from the August sun with shade;

And the eye travels down to Oxford's towers.

 

 

St Paul's Lecture on Teresa of Avila

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mLOgUFXcg-Y&feature=youtu.be

For your interest I attach link to the video of my talk at St Paul's Cathedral a couple of weeks ago: 'Teresa of Avila: Doctor of the Soul'.
Best wishes

Peter

Pope Francis Peace Initiative at the Vatican - 'No Peace without Prayer'

It's been quite a weekend in Rome. We have begun the great feast of Pentecost which I posted about yesterday with the great fire and wind of the Holy Spirit hovering not just over the 'two lungs of Christianity' - Eastern Orthodoxy and Western Catholicism - but also over the Jewish and Muslim Presidents from Israel and Palestine. All the reports today stress how Pope Francis' initiative caught everyone by surprise, not least in his subversion of protocol. This really is the work of the Spirit - as I said yesterday 'bending what is rigid, warming what is frozen, cooling what is over-heated'. As we prepare at St Marys for our Dialogue Conference next week ( 16th - 18th June, see www.smuc.ac.uk/inspire) this new initiative is both timely and inspiring. All our speakers will no doubt be making reference to it. Although it catches many commentators by surprise we shall be demonstrating next week how the call for dialogue is deeply rooted in Catholic initiatives over the past 50 years beginning with the Second Vatican Council and Ecclesiam Suam... the groundbreaking encyclical from Pope Paul VI, soon to be beatified for his great work as a reconciler and healer. So, as these events unfold let us pray together for peace between the faith and world leaders. In the words of Abbot Timothy Wright, one of our speakers next week, 'there is no peace without prayer'.


Happy Pentecost!

Peter

 

Happy Pentecost!

Happy Feast Day Everyone! I write this from the Eternal City where I am presently looking after the examinations at the Pontifical Beda College. It is a beautiful day here but I haven't been out yet... I am about to go over to St Paul's (see earlier post) but before I do I would like to share two things. One is the ancient Latin hymn, 'Veni Sancte Spiritus', which has meant so much to me over the years. The other is a piece from one of our recent graduates, Junior Lynch. Junior wrote his dissertation on psychosis and spirituality ( I discussed it in an earlier post) and asked if I could post some of his reflections here. I do so with great pleasure... and am always happy to post contributions.

 

Best for now

 

Peter

 

1. Veni, Sancte Spiritus,
   Et emitte cœlitus
   Lucis tuæ radium.
   Veni pater pauperum,
   Veni dator munerum,
   Veni lumen cordium.
2. Consolator optime,
   Dulcis hospes animæ,
   Dulce refrigerium.
   In labore requies,
   In æstu temperies,
   In fletu solatium.
3. O lux beatissima,
   Reple cordis intima
   Tuorum fidelium.
   Sine two numine,
   Nihil est in homine,
   Nihil est innoxium.
4. Lava quod est sordidum,
   Riga quod est aridum,
   Sana quod est saucium,
   Flecte quod est rigidum,
   Fove quod est frigidum
   Rege quod est devium.
5. Da tuis fidelibus,
   In te confidentibus,
   Sacrum septenarium.
   Da virtutis meritum,
   Da salutis exitum,
   Da perenne gaudium.

1. Holy Spirit, come and shine
   On our souls with beams divine,
   Issuing from Thy radiance bright.
   Come, O Father of the poor,
   Ever bounteous of Thy store,
   Come, our heart’s unfailing light.
2. Come, Consoler, kindest, best,
   Come, our bosom’s dearest guest,
   Sweet refreshment, sweet repose.
   Rest in labor, coolness sweet,
   Tempering the burning heat,
   Truest comfort of our woes.
3. O divinest light, impart
   Unto every faithful heart
   Plenteous streams from love’s bright flood.
   But for Thy blest Deity,
   Nothing pure in man could be;
   Nothing harmless, nothing good.
4. Wash away each sinful stain;
   Gently shed Thy gracious rain
   On the dry and fruitless soul.
   Heal each wound and bend each will,
   Warm our hearts benumbed and chill,
   All our wayward steps control.
5. Unto all Thy faithful just,
   Who in Thee confide and trust,
   Deign the sevenfold gift to send.
   Grant us virtue’s blest increase,
   Grant a death of hope and peace,
   Grant the joys that never end

 

Good day to you all,

 

Please allow me to introduce myself, my name is Junior Lynch. I am a twenty-two year old graduate from St Mary’s University, Twickenham. During my time as a ‘Simmarian’ I was fortunate enough to work under the stewardship of some truly great scholars, though it was Peter who encouraged me to embrace all things ‘liminal’. This is a term which shall forever remain within my vocabulary! I am extremely grateful for the opportunity to write for Insoulpursuit. Without further ado, I shall proceed to tell you of an experience I had just a few days ago. It was a moment which could either be something or nothing. Though, akin to many aspects of my life, I like to think of it as conceptual. I felt that I had witnessed a flicker between the calm and the storm; it urged me to contemplate the intricacies of my mind. This, an exercise I have not partaken in often or perhaps at all, since childhood. I was recently in my hometown of Swindon you see. My hometown, in all its splendour, provides the backdrop for this tiny tale with a taller moral.

 

‘

My eyes have become transfixed upon the mellow haze lingering betwixt dusk and dark. The poppy fields in the near distance intermingle with the impending horizon, creating a blood red stain which slowly purges the remaining light. The ominous rain clouds which ran rife throughout the day have now parted, perhaps only for a moment, though the respite from the storm is embraced all the same. A hint of jasmine hovers flirtatiously in the air, before it is lost in the breeze. The flutter of a rook threatens to disturb the calm, yet, it only serves to heighten the serenity.  A red crested beam sweeps through the trees, casting a shadow that looms heavily upon the grass upon which I lay. My mind begins to conjure thoughts of childhood, only slowly at first, like a seasoned dairy farmer churning the last batch of butter for the summer harvest; the memories become thicker, and substantial in clarity.

 

The mind perseveres, and enters a labyrinth full of memories, beginning with my fourth birthday and ending with a recollection of my Grandfather collecting me from school. The blissful naivety of my younger days warms me ever so slightly, before the slowly cooling breeze threatens to awaken me from this dreamy state. Nevertheless, the tomb which has kept these memories captive for so long, has been opened. Floods of fears, emotions, and troubles of the past resurrect, and are quickly extinguished when I realise they are no longer relevant. The beauty of the sunset leaves me incredulous, when i spend a moment to revel in the glory of it all that is.

 

Thus far, my life experiences have been positive, in the grand scheme of things. Although, i am often left feeling regretful at thinking of the ‘what if’s’ in my life. However, i am regretful in the sense that i shouldn't be thinking of the ‘what if’s’ at all. In fact, rather than dwelling on why i was deprived of certain opportunities, or why i narrowly missed out on something, i look at the consequential positives that have arisen from these setbacks. In reality, this adequately explains my relationship with God. I have never doubted God’s existence, only his intentions. I often feel as though my faith is tested through varying means, and as the sun sets upon one aspiration, another arises at dawn. Naturally, there have been times in my life, where everything seems eclipsed by darkness. However, a sliver of light has always remained, just enough to regain faith and move on to more prosperous fields. For others, the light is further away and it is a constant struggle to keep it in sight long enough to reach it. On this evening, my surroundings are perfectly attuned to my state of mind. This I find is a rare thing. As the light dims, and the poppy fields become nothing more than an ashen canvas, i have no fear. For i know the sun shall rise tomorrow, and so shall I.                                                                

                  ’

The brief enlightenment encountered last night, provided a minor respite from what has been a fairly turbulent few weeks. However, that moment spent on the lawn reflecting upon the purity and magnificence of the retreating sunset, afforded me with ample time to reassess a few life choices. The innate nature of light and dark struck me with childlike awe, and I briefly regressed to a time, when I did not take the work of God for granted. I reflected upon the questions that I used to ask as a young boy, about the infinite wonders of the universe. I was once consumed by the complexity of God’s work, though, this has now been exchanged for worries concerning rental payments, weekly food budgets, and how to assert myself in the working world. Alas, i am not sure when this transference of interests occurred, and to pinpoint it, would be futile. Moreover, I have been to the spiritual home of the Catholic church, i have  been blessed by the Pope emeritus, and i have been near to death in my life.

 

Last night was different.

 

Last night, nothing happened really. I have looked upon the sunset for many a year, and have bathed in it’s glow. Yet, something was different last night. Perhaps it was purely conceptual. In that moment, it was a loving embrace from God. This evening, the sunset will be nothing more than light shifting from dark.

 

I hope that you all find your own sunset, and can find a little light regardless of your situation. In the meanwhile, i shall leave you with a beautiful verse from a truly lovely hymn entitled ‘I am weary, let me rest’, written by Pete Kuykendall. It is also performed in one of my favourite films of all time; O Brother Where art thou?

 

‘Seems the light is swiftly fading

Brighter scenes they do now show

I am standing by the river

Angels wait to take me home’

Best wishes, Junior.

Francis Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites and the Carmelite Charism

Attending the powerful performance of Francis Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites at Covent Garden last night I took to thinking how it was that the Discalced Carmelite charism enunciated first by St Teresa of Avila had led to so many courageous women who had willingly given up their lives for faith. Visiting the Carmelite Convent of Ware a few weeks back and meeting these remarkable women in the flesh it is perhaps no surprise. The author of the original novel upon which the opera is based, Gertrud von Le Fort, said in a lecture that her intention in writing was to enunciate ‘the special experience’ of contemporary humanity which is ‘a profound horror of the threat that all that is good, all that has seemed our safe possession for centuries will be ruined.’ As a result of this the modern person, she continues, although hostile to Christ:

 

Is nonetheless turning their face toward the mystery of Christ, even if unconsciously and involuntarily. The transformation of destruction and annihilation into sacrifices of love and hope – that is what I try to express in my books. I consider this to be the fate of Europe, of our culture and our religion… for the poet nothing is past, but only transformed.

 

Beautifully expressed in the opera, this ‘transformation of destruction and annihilation into sacrifices of love and hope’ is what lies at the heart of the Carmelite charism and what makes this charism so peculiarly relevant to (and resilient within) our contemporary world where faith contends with despair, destruction and loss on a daily basis. I include below some of my writing on Edith Stein, another remarkable 20^th Century Carmelite martyr, taken from my ‘Bloomsbury Guide to Christian Spirituality’ whose life strangely mirrors those of the sisters of Compiègne. There are a few more performances of Dialogues scheduled for Covent Garden next week (and it will be broadcast on Radio 3 later this week). Sadly I will be in Rome so cannot attend but I would strongly recommend you to attend or listen to this extraordinary production if you can. If you cannot, here is the final scene on youtube: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eFL2iu4faEU
 

 

 

Born of a devout Jewish family in Breslau, Germany, Edith Stein (1891-1942), later to be known as Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, developed an early love and skill in philosophy which was to remain with her throughout her life. The greatest influence on her philosophical development was the work of Edmund Husserl and the newly emerging phenomenological school. From her Jewish faith, Edith turned to atheism, although always with a lively interest in the ‘God question’. In all her atheistic questing she sensed the importance of the divine perspective for all phenomenological research. The key moment of her conversion occurred in 1921 when she stayed at the house of some friends, the Conrad-Martiuses, at their home near Bergzabern. Wanting some reading for the evening she looked through the bookshelves of her hosts and found Teresa of Avila’s ‘Book of the Life’. She was not able to sleep that night and was completely gripped by the narrative that Teresa presented. Afterwards she would say of Teresa’s book: ‘This is the truth’, finally she had found what she had been looking for (See Herbstrith 1992:65). As she would write later ‘It is just the people who at first passionately embrace the world who penetrate farthest into the depths of the soul. Once God’s powerful hand has freed them from its allurements, they are taken into their innermost selves’ (From ‘Die Seelenburg’ in Welt und Person: Beitrag zum christlichen Wahrheitsstreben, Stein 4:66).

            Once Edith had found ‘the treasure hidden in the field’ she went away, sold everything she had and bought the field. She was baptised a Christian in 1922 and began an extended study of the Church Fathers and scripture, especially the works of St Thomas Aquinas. The next ten years were ones of teaching and work to reconcile Christian and atheist philosophy, in particular the phenomenology of her ‘master’ Husserl and the high scholasticism of Thomas Aquinas. Perhaps the most remarkable fruit of this time is the delightful Festschrift she wrote for Husserl’s seventieth birthday, What is Philosophy?, where a tired Husserl slumps down on his sofa after a long day lecturing only to be surprised by the shade of St Thomas Aquinas who then proceeds to question the master on the nature of phenomenology and God (reprinted as Knowledge and Faith, Edith Stein, Collected Works, 8).

            Husserl would end his days a Christian having experienced a deathbed conversion in 1938. On hearing the news, Edith, just about to take her solemn vows in the Cologne Carmel,[1] wrote to another sister: ‘As regards my dear Master, I have no worries about him. To me, it has always seemed strange that God could restrict his mercy to the boundaries of the visible Church. God is truth, and whoever seeks the truth is seeking God, whether he knows it or not’ (Stein, Letter 259, quoted in Herbstrith 1992:139).

             From the original fathers on the Jewish mountain of Israel, to the converso Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, and now in these words Edith summarises the Carmelite charism of openness to all cultures. For her, and for all true Carmelites, God’s saving action does not stop at the doors of the church but extends to all humanity in all its suffering and confusion. For Edith, this would become a terrible reality as the Nazi persecution of the Jews gathered pace and the net slowly closed in on her and her family. Despite her conversion to Christianity she was still a target for Nazi persecution and after the horrendous events of Kristallnacht on November 8^th 1938 she was forced to leave Germany to seek shelter with the Carmelite community at Echt, Holland. Despite the persecution throughout all this time Edith was able to continue her philosophico-theological writings on the interface of phenomenology and theology. What they reveal, and scholars are still working hard on interpreting them,[2] is a woman who grasped the essence of Carmelite spirituality in all its intellectual depth and existential consequence. Since her student days Edith had been fascinated by the ‘nature of empathy’, and in fact had written her doctoral thesis on the subject (published as On the Problem of Empathy in The Collected Works, 3). Commenting on this interest, Roman Ingarden writes that ‘What interested her most was the question of defining the possibility of mutual communication between human beings, in other words, the possibility of establishing community. This was more than a theoretical concern for her; belonging to a community was a personal necessity, something that vitally affected her identity’ (Ingarden 1979: 472 in Herbstrith 1992:146). Once again we have that other great Carmelite theme – the need to find God in community. Perhaps, as Edith realised, our hope as alienated, atomized, late capitalist individuals, lies in the return to community as the manifestation of our essential natures as homo empathicus.

The other great theme that emerges from these late writings of Edith is the need for radical Christian life. It is not enough, says Edith, to be ‘ “a good Catholic” who “does his duty”, “reads the right newspaper”, and “votes correctly” – and then does just as he pleases’.[3] At a time of general Christian indifference to the fate of the Jews in Germany (with some notable and noble exceptions), her critique of complacent bourgeois ‘Christendom’ [4] is as striking as it is relevant to us in the West today who see a tired old bourgeois church brought to its knees by complacency and indifference. Such indifference, suggests Edith, will lead to disaster. Rather, we should strive for radical Gospel living, ‘in the presence of God, with the simplicity of a child and the humility of a publican’. This call for radical Christian life, especially in the mystery of following Christ on the path to Calvary, would come to her suddenly when the SS officers arrived at Echt in the afternoon of 2^nd August, 1942 demanding that she leave with her sister, Rosa, who had become an extern sister at the convent. In the shock and surprise, the whole neighbourhood came out to protest at this indecent act. In the crowd and confusion Rosa became alarmed and upset. In this distress and confusion Edith gently took her hand and said ‘Come, Rosa. We’re going for our people’.[5] We have fragmentary accounts of what happened to Edith next including reports from Westerbork, the Nazi holding camp in Holland for all deported Jews (where the other great Jewish mystic, Etty Hillesum, would also be held) and from guards and functionaries as her train moved slowly East to the killing fields of Auschwitz. One account, from the Dutch official Mr Wielek at Westerbork, will suffice to give a sense of Edith’s last days on earth:

 

The one sister who impressed me immediately, whose warm, glowing smile has never been erased from my memory, despite the disgusting incidents I was forced to witness, is the one whom I think the Vatican may one day canonize. From the moment I met her in the camp at Westerbork… I knew: here is someone truly great. For a couple of days she lived in that hellhole, walking, talking and praying… like a saint. And she really was one. That is the only fitting way to describe this middle-aged woman who struck everyone as so young, who was so whole and honest and genuine. (in Herbstrith 1992:186)

 

Edith went to her death at Auschwitz, we assume it was on August 9^th 1942, the day on which she is now celebrated as Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross since 1998. From the mountains of Palestine to the Gates of Auschwitz the Carmelite calling can be seen as one that places the individual into the deepest and most intimate relationship with God as a call to radical personal transformation. From this transformation arises the need to seek Christ in all his beloved children, regardless of race, creed or religion. As we have seen, Carmelite spirituality transcends the boundaries of any small creed or sect to present a universal call to holiness in union with Our Lord and Saviour through His Blessed Cross and Resurrection. In its unique tensions and potentialities, Carmelite spirituality is wonderfully adapted to promote the development and transformation of the individual into a son or daughter of Jesus Christ.

 

 

---

[1] She entered Carmel in 1933 having considered vocations with the Dominicans and Benedictines.

[2] See, for example, Alasdair McIntyre’s recent Edith Stein: A Philosophical Prologue, 1913 – 1922. London: Sheed and Ward. 2007.

[3] From ‘Weihnachtsgeheimnis’ quoted in Herbstrith 1992:154.

[4] As Kierkegaard called it in his critique a hundred years before, another significant influence on the young Edith.

[5] From the Kölner Selig- und Heiligsprechungsprozess der Dienerin Gottes Sr. Teresia Benedicta a Cruce – Edith Stein (Cologne 1962:92) in Herbstrith 1992:180.