How St. Thérèse’s Dream Pointed to Blessed Anne’s Beatification| National Catholic Register

On Sept. 8, 1896, St. Thérèse of Lisieux wrote an account of a dream she had earlier that year in which she received a “visit” from a Carmelite precursor, Blessed Anne of Jesus, the founder of the Carmelite Order in France, who was beatified today in Belgium by Pope Francis.

Thérèse’s account provides a wonderful introduction to Anne and her personality and mission. Thérèse began:

O Jesus, my Beloved, who could express the tenderness and sweetness with which you are guiding my soul! It pleases You to cause the rays of Your grace to shine through even in the midst of the darkest storm!

This “darkest storm” was an intense trial of faith Thérèse had been undergoing since the day following Easter Sunday of that year, a trial that would continue to test her fortitude as she suffered incurable tuberculosis throughout the next year until, on Sept. 30, 1897, at the young age of 24, she pronounced her final, heroic act of faith in a cry of love to God, before breathing her last.

She understood it was Blessed Anne whom God sent to offer a “ray” of hope amid her trial and continued:

At the first glimmerings of dawn I was in a kind of gallery and there were several other persons, but they were at a distance. Suddenly, without seeing how they entered, I saw three Carmelites dressed in their mantles and long veils. It appeared to me they were coming for our Mother [Mother Genevieve, prioress], but what I did understand clearly was that they came from heaven.

Overjoyed, Therese longed to see one of their faces, and knew her prayer was heard when, she explained, “The tallest of the saints advanced toward me.” In awe, Therese fell to her knees. The same Carmelite then raised her veil and covered both herself and Thérèse beneath it. Instantly, Thérèse knew it was Blessed Anne of Jesus. 

Through this veiling, we see Anne, with motherly tenderness, continuing to watch over her Carmelite daughters. Thérèse described something of her heavenly visage, and wrote:

Her face was beautiful but with an immaterial beauty. No ray escaped from it and still, in spite of the veil which covered us both, I saw this heavenly face suffused with an unspeakably gentle light, a light it didn’t receive from without but was produced from within.

She then dared to ask her, “O Mother! I beg you, tell me whether God will leave me for a long time on earth. Will He come soon to get me?” To which Anne replied, “Yes, soon, I promise you.”

But it was Anne’s reply to the next question that revealed the intent of her extraordinary visit as Thérèse asked, “Mother, tell me further if God is not asking something more of me than my poor little actions and desires. Is He content with me?” Doubtless, with foreknowledge of Thérèse’s future mission as a Doctor of the Church to teach her Little Way of Spiritual Childhood to souls, Anne radiated even greater tenderness and assured her, “God asks nothing more of you. He is content, very content!” With that, Thérèse awoke, at peace.

Anne’s gift of leadership became evident in her youth. She was born of noble lineage in Plasencia, Spain, on Nov. 25, 1545, to her Catholic parents, Diego and Francesca Lobera, both of whom died before Anne was 10.

Raised from then on by her grandmothers, Anne became known for her intelligence, beauty, tall stature and charm, but resisted her grandmothers’ urgings to marry. Instead, convinced she was called to the religious life, one evening while preparing for yet another dinner party at home, arranged to attract her to a suitor, Anne snipped off her long hair, donned a plain dress and head covering, and entered the dining room to the hushed silence of her stunned grandmother and guests.

Now that her resolve was clear to all, Anne began to live an austere life, ministering to the poor and sick and becoming involved in public affairs. She wrote letters, at times speaking to local authorities in person, to obtain the liberation of repentant criminals, and alerted officials when she foresaw dangers to the public ahead. More and more, however, Anne felt called to offer her life to God in a contemplative order dedicated to a hidden life of prayer and sacrifice. But to what order, she was uncertain.

It was at age 25, through her former spiritual director, Jesuit Father Pedro Rodríguez, that Anne learned about Mother Teresa of Jesus (St. Teresa of Ávila) and her recent reform of the Carmelite Order. As Teresa described her charism, inspired by the mitigated practice of the Carmelite Rule and amid the throes of the Protestant Reformation and its persecution against Catholics:

All my longing was and still is that since the Lord has so many enemies and so few friends that these few friends be good ones. As a result, I resolved to do the little that was in my power: that is, to follow the evangelical counsels as perfectly as I could and strive that these few persons who live here do the same.

Thrilled, Anne asked Father Rodríguez to write a letter of inquiry to Teresa on her behalf, explaining, “And tell her why I have delayed so long, and let me know if she will receive me, and when and how, for I dare not write myself.” Within only a few weeks, Anne received a letter in reply from Teresa herself who, with what can only be described as an astounding vote of confidence in a future postulant, wrote, “It is with the greatest pleasure, my dear daughter, that I receive you among my religious. From this moment, I accept you not as novice and subject, but as my own companion and coadjutrix.”

In Carmel, Anne’s gift as a leader flourished and she grew to understand the full import of the words of Jesus, “Much will be required of the person entrusted with much, and still more will be demanded of the person entrusted with more” (Luke 12:48). She became Teresa’s friend and confidante and assisted her in establishing new foundations. She served as Mistress of Novices and Prioress and, as Teresa and St. John of the Cross endured the many months of harsh criticism and persecution from opponents, Anne applied her gifts of discretion and tact to support them before detractors until, at last, the Constitutions of the Discalced Carmelite Order were approved by the Holy See.

Anne was lavished by God with extraordinary gifts of grace toward the accomplishment of her mission, including the gift of healing, through which many miraculous cures were granted to her sisters, and the gift of tongues that allowed Anne to communicate with foreign-speaking visitors associated with the Reform. It was because of her exceeding gifts and nature and grace along with her many years of experience as a leader that, following the death of Teresa in 1582, Anne was appointed in 1604 to carry the Reform beyond the borders of Spain as founder of the Carmelite Order in France. Paris was chosen for the first foundation. 

The journey en route was not easy. Anne was in poor health, and traveling conditions were miserable. As one of the sisters described one evening:

It was so dark that we could not see our own hands. The best we could do was to stay where we were in … God permitted that our provisions ran short, so that we had nothing to eat — no bread, no wine, no water except what was falling from the heavens so abundantly that it seemed to come down in bucketfuls.

The little band was traveling through territory hostile to Spaniards, and persecutions against Catholics by the Huguenots continued. Perhaps, the nuns even considered, they would become martyrs along the way. But on Oct. 15, 1604, they arrived safely at Paris.

So many vocations followed that Anne traveled again to establish foundations in Pontoise and Dijon, and in 1606, journeyed north to Belgium, where she established monasteries in Louvain and Mons. It was in Brussels that Anne, worn out from her travels and lifetime of physical sufferings, but with the support of her beloved Carmelite daughters, praying at her bedside, offered her final breath in gratitude to God on March 4, 1621.

Throughout every challenge and suffering in her life, Anne kept her eyes fixed on Jesus Crucified and his promise of eternal life. As she once encouraged a friend in a letter:

We know by experience that His Majesty sends us troubles in proportion to the talents He confides to our keeping … the meek possess the land, and the soul of patience possesses itself. Thus are the saints fashioned: if we would be such, let us imitate them.

What perfect words of inspiration from one who has attained the goal. As St. Thérèse of Lisieux once witnessed the heavenly glory of Blessed Anne of Jesus in a dream, so now the Church confirms the reality!

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