CHRISTMAS IN CARMEL
Carmel has traditions which were handed down from generation to
generation.
The best of these, however, are those that the Carmelites have
inherited from the devout pioneers, their early brothers in
Palestine. These devotions that still strike a familiar note are
dedicated to all that concerns the Blessed Virgin Mary and the Holy
Family of Nazareth.
Among these are the devotions especially prescribed for
Christmas-tide and the Epiphany, which are some of the most
beautiful.
From the first Sunday in Advent, the mystery of the hidden life of
the Word Incarnate in the Virginal womb of Mary, enwraps the whole
convent with an air, almost a perfume, of mystery.
Every evening, about five, the community meets and, with lighted
candles in their hands, join the Mother Prioress who advances holding
a little Infant Jesus in her arms. Singing hymns and canticles they
proceed through part of the convent to the cell of one of the Sisters
who has been elected for that honor and there they deposit the effigy
of the Royal Babe. The Sister turns all her homage and adoration to
the Divine Child until the same hour the following day, when the
choice falls to another of the Nuns.
Three days before the Nativity, united in spirit with the Holy
Family tramping through the ways of Palestine, they vie with one
another in offering up the flowers of their special love and
sacrifice.
On Christmas Eve the silence bell is not rung, the night is
luminous and full of melody. Every Sister is kneeling in the doorway
of her cell as the Divine Child is again carried down the corridors of
the convent in accordance with a ceremony instituted by St. Theresa of
Avila. This great Saint had a deep devotion for the mystery of the
Incarnation. The beauty of the Word Incarnate enraptured her
heart.
One Christmas Eve St. Theresa of Avila's transport of love was such
that she could no longer contain herself, and, not waiting for the
hour of the commemoration ceremony, she left her cell carrying the
Child of Bethlehem and, chanting a hymn of joy, she ran to summon all
her daughters to come and adore Him with her.
After midnight Mass followed by Lauds, the community meets in the
refectory. All are there, the Mother Prioress, the old and aged Nuns,
who have seen many Christmases, the young Nuns, who are tasting for
the first time the joys of that solemn hour.
They have come full of joy and with happy hearts to meet round the
cradle of the new-born Jesus and comfort Him with their singing and
prayers. "Parvulus filius hodie natus est nobis", chants the
Church in her holy Liturgy; it is the new-born King to Whom they have
immolated every earthly joy, including maternal happiness. Some of
them pass the whole night in adoration, others are told to take a
little rest until called at an appointed hour, with the hymn of the
Angels: "Gloria in excelsis Deo".
What a happy time for Sister Theresa Margaret, was that first
Christmas spent in Carmel! Together with the others she labored to
prepare the Crib, and when at eventide and in the watches of the night
they sang to the Divine Infant, her clear young voice could sometimes
be heard above the others in ineffable accents of tenderness and
love.
Pondering on the sorrow of Mary and Joseph in being denied shelter
by the inhabitants of Bethlehem, she tried in her way to comfort them
in the bitterness of that cruel repulse. The words of Saint John the
Evangelist came to her mind: "In propria venit et sui Eum non
receperunt" --- "He came unto His own and His own received
Him not" --- and with tears in her eyes she offered the Little
Child the warm cradle of her heart. Then she remained immovable in
rapt contemplation of the holy Crib.
It seemed to her as if Eden were reopened with all its splendor and
happiness. All the attributes of the Eternal Divinity were hidden for
her in that mystery of the Incarnation, only Love shone
resplendent. She seemed almost in a stupor; her heart was beating fast
and her face was aflame with that sacred fire burning in her young
heart. She buried her face in her hands imploring the Holy Babe:
"Draw me after Thee and I will run in the fragrance of Thy
love". The prayer of Sister Theresa Margaret was not in vain; in
her brief span of life she always ran to meet her Spouse, even when
the road was beset with crosses and the hardest of sufferings.
The holy vigils of Christmas were therefore happier than ever for
the whole convent. Sister Theresa Margaret would have wished to have
done even more for her Divine Lord. They had no preacher to come and
expound to them all the marvels of the cave of Bethlehem and the
Divine beauty of the Incarnate Word. What was to be done? To whom
could she turn? What a surprise awaited them when they were told that
there would be a sermon after all. One quite out of the ordinary,
however, when to their astonished eyes Sister Theresa Margaret
detached herself from their ranks and, tall and dignified in her white
cloak, she advanced towards them.
Kneeling at the Crib, she remained a few minutes absorbed in
prayer; then rising, she began her discourse. The faint light of the
lanterns shone on her face glowing with love and joy as she spoke
simply and unaffectedly. Her words seemed veritable darts of love with
which to pierce their hearts. Her Sisters were astonished at so much
knowledge and piety in the words of one so young --- a mere girl of
eighteen. She spoke of Mary, who had flowered like a lily, light of
heart and praising God. She spoke of the Divine Infant, as gathered by
the Angels from the bosom of the Father and carried to the Blessed
Mother, who received the first kiss from that adorable mouth, dressed
Him lovingly and laid Him gently in His bed of straw. The trembling of
those infant limbs must have been felt by the young speaker, whose own
voice was shaking with emotion and sympathy. "What a spectacle of
poverty", she concluded, "of sacrifice and detachment has He
not given us, this God of ours!" But she could not
continue ... tears choked her and from that and her whole appearance
full of tenderness, her edified Sisters could read the height and
depth of a great sacrificing love.
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