Congrats Marcel!!!

This is my brother Marcel Van. Today is his big day. He was born on March 15, 1928, and thanks to God's plan, Marcel learned to love Jesus from his childhood. As he grew, he loved Jesus more and more, and before long, he wanted to be with Jesus all the time in Heaven. He had to wait until this day, July 10, in 1959 when he was 31 years old. Finally, Jesus took him to Heaven.

If the angels will help us, we here at Miss Marcel's Musings can do the math. Let's see. 1959 to 2026 is (counting on fingers, no kidding!) . . . 67 years. If we add that to Marcel's 31 years when he flew off to Heaven in 1959, we get 98 years. 

Marcel would be 98 years old if he were still on earth today. 
Hmmmm.
I have a very dear friend I will see tomorrow, God willing, and she is 98 too. She recently hosted me at her home, where she joyfully lives alone - well, with Jesus and her guardian angel, but without anyone earthly living with her - and she served delicious homemade soup to me and another friend (much younger than 98).

When I asked her about the incredibly wonderful sourdough bread she brought out of the oven, she smilingly said she had it delivered to her doorstep once a month and she popped some out of the freezer to bake as needed. Yum! 

When I asked her about the soup - now thinking I had been silly to imagine she was cooking at 98 - she said, "I made it, of course!" Oh my goodness! Maybe if I start now and keep working hard for 37 more years, I'll become the kind of delightful hostess my friend is, and able to offer such delicious and nourishing lunches to anyone who decides to drop by (with just a little warning).

On the other hand, I think I'll leave that superpower to my friend and focus instead on writing about Marcel. Because my point here, lost as it has become in memories of sourdough and soup, is that Marcel would be my friend's age if he had remained on earth. Perhaps he would have emigrated to the U.S., and even moved to Southern California where we could have met and become friends "in real life."

There is some truth, some imagination, and some mistake in that last paragraph. To get rid of the mistake (truth and imagination are fine!), let's amend the final sentence according to the suggestion of our editor in chief, St. Therese. (My heavens, a post about Marcel, and St. Therese doesn't come in until paragraph seven. I definitely need to work on my Marcel-writing. I will have to be fed by friends while I improve my craft.) She has a lot to say about life . . .

Therese's beloved novice Marie of the Trinity once said to her, "Life is sad." 
Therese replied from her sick bed, "Life is not sad." Then seeing the confusion on Marie's face, she continued, "Oh! You mean this exile? Yes, this is sad, but real life is happy, very happy!"

So I ought to have said that if Marcel had lived longer in exile from our true homeland in Heaven (and I think the very suggestion is giving him the heeby-jeebies even as he gazes upon God at this moment!), we could have met and become friends, perhaps even dipped our shared crusty, fresh sourdough into homemade soup at my hostess' (his age mate's) table together with the little Rose who was there too . . . 

Instead, Marcel has gone before us to real life, and he, like his spiritual sister, soul-mate, and kindred spirit St. Therese, has now in glory the two-fold purpose they shared on earth, she in her lifetime from 1873 to 1897, he in his from 1928 to 1959: namely, to love God and make Him loved.

Happily for us (ecstatically, even, though not in the technical religious sense), their mission to make God loved matches their Little Way of loving Him, and this is a way that is short, easy, and often hilarious. No long faces for us! No long prayers either - though oft-repeated shorter ones, and a nearly constant conversation with our best friend Jesus. 

I say "nearly constant conversation" because Marcel wrote in a letter to a friend that he'd learned it's better to ignore Jesus and focus on what's physically in front of you when you're driving. Marcel had been riding a bike on an errand and accidentally crashed into some people who were walking, and all because he was chatting with Jesus as he rode! We can conclude that it's not only okay but even desirable to sometimes forget Our Lord for a few minutes because He's asked us to buy groceries in a safe and timely manner!

But getting back to my happy dream of Marcel still being stuck on earth, upon reflection I think it's better that he went to Heaven in 1959, and I can come up with so many reasons right off the top of my head:

1. Because he wanted it so badly (union with Jesus) and waited so long (when you're in love, the shortest separation can seem like years, and Marcel had to wait actual years) . . .

2. Because - well, would you look at that!

Miss Marcel here, and I come by my name honestly. Marcel complained frequently to Jesus in their Conversations that he (Marcel, that is) couldn't remember anything. In fact, when Marcel wasn't complaining about his forgetfulness, Jesus often was! And here I am with every blessed reason that I'd had in my pretty little head having flown or fallen right out of it again. Let me think harder.

3. Oh yes. If Marcel was on earth still, then we'd have the same problem and miss the same benefit that we experience with all those we love who are still stuck in exile. It's simply this: for those on earth (except for Padre Pio when he was on earth, and even he had some limits), the body occupies one space at a time. This means that a person is in one place and can't be in others, and the consequence is that few people can spend time with that person-in-one-place, or at least relatively few compared to how many have instant access to that person when he gets to Heaven and is accessible to all at the same time.

In other words, because Marcel is in Heaven, I have constant access to him, and so do you and so does everyone! Granted everyone doesn't yet know the advantages of having constant access to Marcel, and so these billions are perhaps preoccupied with their latest gadget, app, or delicious sourdough eaten without Marcel's company, but that only means I need to stop wasting time and write more to boost his stats in the hearts of countless sad souls who don't yet know our little brother.

Why, again? Why, that is, should everyone know Marcel?

The answer is a little bit like why everyone should read The Paradise Project.
Because it, and Marcel, will make you laugh, and life, that is this exile, is far too long (just ask Marcel!) if you try to live it without joy.

One of my favorite things about Marcel - and there are so very many, though if we start a list again, I may again forget everything! - is the way, the very Little Way, that he and Therese and Jesus and Mary insist in his Conversations (the book of books in my book!) on joy in every form. Laughter, smiles, jokes, funny faces, silly stories, children's games, word play - it's all part of the plan, all part of their rapport, and definitely not merely a suggestion, but this joy is rather the desire and delight of Jesus' Sacred Heart and His constant petition to Marcel. 

Yes, Jesus asks Marcel and He insists with Marcel and He employs St. Therese to insist, and they both no doubt learned this heavy emphasis on joy from the Cause of Our Joy, Our Lady of Joyful Surprises, the Blessed Mother! How ironic! (Which I suppose is itself a form of delight, or a cause of it.) Can you really insist on joy? Jesus, Mary, and Therese sure try!

Here is a passage taken at random from Marcel's Conversations (with Jesus, Mary, and Therese of the Child Jesus). The day after Christmas in 1945, St. Therese says to Marcel:

My dear little brother, are you happy, are you joyful? How many kisses has little Jesus given you already? How lovely little Jesus is. Do you love Him, dear little brother? To see you happy is also a great joy for me, but what makes me happier still is to hear little Jesus call me your older sister. Little brother, when I see you happy, my heart also shares your joy; on seeing your smile blossom like a pretty flower, I would wish to pick it, to photograph it and then to show it to you when suffering returns so as to get from you at least the suggestion of a smile.

And here, even more wonderfully, is one of my favorite passages from my favorite book. Marcel has just asked Jesus (on the feast of Christ the King, October 28, 1945), "Jesus, are you sad sometimes because of me?"

Jesus replies: "My child, if that ever happens it is only when I see you sad. When you are happy, how could I be sad? So be happy always. A single one of your joys suffices to console me very much."

If you have time or the desire, why not memorize that last line. It will come in handy!

"Be happy always. A single one of your joys suffices to console me very much."

Pope Benedict XVI, when he was Cardinal Ratzinger providing commentary to go along with the release of the third secret of Fatima, explained that private revelations are good insofar as they encourage us to enter more deeply into public revelation. Applying that principle to our reading of Marcel's writings, I say don't just believe it because I say that Jesus said it to Marcel, but rather, please believe in His Love because Jesus has told us over and over this same truth in the love letter of the Holy Scriptures, and he has put these words on His apostle St. Paul:

Rejoice in the Lord always. I say it again, rejoice!

I often speak of feasts hidden behind a Sunday. This Sunday, for instance, July 12th, is the wedding anniversary and feast day of St. Therese's incomparable parents, Saints Louis and Zelie Martin. Their feast will be, though, "hidden behind the Sunday" this year because we always celebrate Sunday as a little Easter and feast of Our Lord, which takes precedence over the feasts of the saints.

I bring this up because Marcel's feast is also hidden, though it takes place on a Friday this year. It is hidden because he is still merely a little Servant of God, not yet beatified (Blessed) or canonized (a Saint), and not yet even Venerable (having had his heroic virtues proclaimed). The Church hasn't yet assigned him a real feast day, but that doesn't mean we can't celebrate. Our little brother achieved his greatest desire: on this day in 1959, Jesus sipped up Marcel like a drop of dew, and at last they were and are one forever. That is surely something to celebrate!

So have a cupcake, a slice of toasted sourdough, a cup of tea or a glass of wine . . . go fly a kite, gaze at a sunrise or sunset, listen to some fun or glorious music, and sing! But above all, rejoice, because a single one of your joys suffices to console Jesus, our Love and Marcel's, very much!

Draw me; we will run!