How to Cheer Up God

As I write, it's Trinity Sunday. Don't worry if you're reading on another day - as always, I promise to deliver what you've come to expect from a blog: timeless and immortal truths. Well, yes, I'm smiling, fully aware that occasionally your Internet reading material falls short of deathless prose, but here at Miss Marcel's Musings, we aim to please, and today of all days, our team has assembled perennial wisdom that won't disappoint.

In a nod to world calamity, we acknowledge the striking defeat for goodness, truth, beauty, love, joy, peace, and the whole of mankind at the Irish polls these last few days. But my thought is that if we put all our eggs in the human basket, we're bound to be disappointed. With clumsy oafs like ourselves swinging along a wide and perilous road in the valley of darkness, we're bound to come up with many broken shells rather than adorable chicks at the end of the day . . . Can we really be surprised that after a series of bad decisions beginning shortly after our establishment in the Garden of Eden, we've flubbed it again? 

I'll admit it. I was surprised. I had hoped for better; I had hoped our prayers for life would be answered, but once again, God has this crazy idea that free will (and the suffering that often follows in its wake) is better than The Divine Puppet Show I envision - you know, the one where He perfectly manipulates each person on the face of the planet so that the world stage features a kind of Peanuts Ice Capades where former Olympic gold medal winners skate along to upbeat music in perfectly synchronized (if cartoonish) beauty.

Wow. After an analogy like that, no doubt you're glad I'm not in charge! Fortunately, I'm not. Not in world affairs, and not even on this blog. I'm low man on the totem pole in both places, but the good news is that here, at least, sanity reigns, thanks to our resident Doctor of the Church, St. Therese, and her little brother (and ours) Marcel Van. Marcel's honorary degree is in silliness, which is a perfect complement (and compliment) to Therese's Little Way. We don't have to figure out how to solve world problems or right world wrongs. We can simply listen to our brothers and sisters the Saints on how to deal each day, whether it's Trinity Sunday 2018 (I do that as a reality check, but the "2018" does tend to make me pause) or any other square on this constantly unfurling calendar of days that leads to the Last one. 

Trinity Sunday in Heaven. As you can imagine, everyone is pretty well occupied with the Beatific Vision. Over there is St. John of the Cross - we won't interrupt him, but let's borrow a page from his "Sayings of Light and Love." I happen to have a copy handy, and his very first saying will set our feet back on the Little Way of trust and surrender. The Mystical Doctor begins by telling us:

"The Lord has always revealed to men the treasures of His wisdom and His Spirit; but now that the face of evil more and more bares itself, so does the Lord bare His treasures the more."

Talk about an impressive endorsement! I submit Marcel, making his way center stage, as one such lovely instance of God's treasures becoming visible at the very moment in world history when we need cheering. And since he brings St. Therese with him wherever he goes, we've got her joyful countenance to cheer us as well. But before we get to the stars of our show, let's return to Juan's opening number. He's a great warm-up, and one of my favorite bits of his is #61 of these sayings. It's among the most reassuring sentences I've ever come across, because St. John says:

"See that you are not suddenly saddened by the adversities of this world, for you do not know the good they bring, being ordained in the judgments of God for the everlasting joy of the elect."

There, now. That puts our Irish disappointment into perspective, doesn't it? Heaven isn't letting our antics distract from the awesome reality of God's eternal Providence: He has not forgotten us nor will He let us stray forever. As St. Therese has so consolingly put it:

"Do not fear. The poorer you are, the more Jesus will love you. He will go far, very far in search of you if at times you wander a little."

Have you heard of Pranzini? He was the convicted murderer that Therese called her "first-born." He was the one whose story captured the headlines back in the late 1800's when Therese was a girl, and his story would fascinate us now. Therese's father, the gentle St. Louis, had a rule that his girls (at least this littlest one) were not allowed to read the newspapers that came into the house. Oh wise guardian of childhood innocence! Would that we had such restrictions on our intake of the latest atrocities! Nonetheless, St. Therese was just as mischievous as we are, and on this one occasion, having heard of Pranzini's plight (he was to be executed, and he'd refused to see a priest), she prayed and sacrificed and begged God not only for his conversion but that "just this once" she'd have a sign that her prayers were answered. She figured the sign would bolster her courage and confidence for the many conversions she'd pray for in the future, and God must have agreed. Because sure enough, when she sneakily peeked at the paper covering Pranzini's execution, she saw that after he'd climbed the scaffold, at the last possible moment he'd grabbed the crucifix from a nearby priest and kissed Jesus in an unexpected act of repentance that saved his soul and assured Therese that God never gives up and always answers our prayers sooner or later (often later).

Which would be enough if this blog were "Triumphs of Therese," but while that name has a ring to it and does describe our exploits fairly accurately (Marcel being one of her triumphs as much as Pranzini; and finding themselves caught in the same parenthetical embrace here, they're likely now laughing and poking each other as they behold the Face of God), still we're Miss Marcel's Musings, and it's time for Marcel to take his place center stage.

No rest for you, Marcel! If you're going to be a second Therese, you know that means spending your heaven doing good on earth, working until the last trumpet sounds, showering us with roses and all the rest of it. For someone who didn't like to work back in the day, you've certainly changed your tune! Luckily for us, I might add. Another reminder everything changes and nothing but God's love is set in stone . . .

Our little Marcel is the Apostle of Children, so I'm sure he's even more disappointed than we are at the plight Ireland's unborn children face from here on out. But what about Jesus? And our true Heavenly Father? And the Spirit of Love? Let's waste no time on our own sorrows: it's time to cheer up God. If that sounds silly, well this is Miss Marcel's Musings, so you'll have to look elsewhere for doom and gloom. No time like the present to heed our littlest sister's brilliant advice in her Conversations with Marcel - and I happened to come upon it yesterday morning, right before I'd need it. First, actually, I came upon Jesus' words recalling to Marcel (and us) the words of Therese. My guardian angel didn't let me lose the thread, and next thing I knew I was reading, a few pages prior, Therese's original plan. I'll give you her words first (recounted by Marcel), then Jesus' seal of approval.
 
And not only that! Like in any good hard sell (we're selling friendship with Marcel, but think of the K-tel Commercials or Ginsu Knives), to get your free bonus - in this case, Jesus' own explanation of how to save the world - act now! (But no need to panic; here "act now" means "read on . . . "). No time to waste moping. Over the echoes of Ireland's shrill outcry against Love, let's listen to Love's response and busy ourselves with the important work of cheering up God.

We find this entry for November 13, 1945 in Conversations:

Marcel: My dear Jesus, this is what my sister Therese said to me: "When on your return to work you notice that Jesus is sad, you must try to please Him. Go close to Him and ask Him a little question of this kind and, certainly, His sadness will disappear and He will give you a beautiful smile. You will say to Him: 'My Jesus, why do you look so sad? What news then have you received today? I dearly love You Jesus.' And if you notice that He continues to be sad, repeat these words unceasingly: 'You are the only one I love, Jesus.' He is sad because there are too few who love Him. Finally, if you see that His sadness still persists, call me immediately and both of us, together, will speak of love . . . And, come what may, Jesus will be forced to smile . . . One more word of advice. If at certain times Jesus is sad, it is because, more than ever, His love is trampled underfoot. There you have it, the sole cause of His sadness . . . When, therefore, you see that He is sad, do not be sad because that will make Him only sadder still. All there is to do in this case is to seek to make Him forget His sadness."

And then on November 14, 1945:

Marcel: Why did You not give me more kisses this evening, dear Jesus? I am really sad. I have never felt anything like this. There must certainly be something that has hurt You . . . Ah! I forgot the advice that my sister Therese gave me yesterday. Sad as I was, I am now happy . . . Forgive me Jesus and tell me why You are so sad. I love You so much. I invite the whole of paradise to come down here to love You. I am even making use of Your love to love you. Yes, dear Jesus, I love You a great deal . . . There, without having had need to call my sister Therese I have succeeded in making You smile. Truly, You have a very charming smile. 
​     Now allow me to ask You a question. Why were You sad just now? Tell me. If I am unable to comfort You, I can at least say again that I love You always and that I love You dearly.

Jesus: My little flower, when you see that I am sad, follow the advice of your sister and do not stop being happy; that is the only way to bring joy to Me . . . My dear child, what saddens Me is to see huge amounts of clay enclosing magnificent pearls, which are very dear to Me, pile up, condemning Me to look at them from afar while no one thinks to offer them to Me. Nevertheless, my child, if someone placed, if only for a moment, these clods of clay in My hand, they would become as many precious pearls in My eyes . . . My dear child, do you understand the meaning of these words? Let Me explain.
     The clods of clay designate sinners. They allowed all the love I have given them to be lost in profane love and this profane love envelops them, making them similar to clods of earth . . . 
        My dear child, do you love these lumps of clay? If you love them, try to think of them always and offer them to Me. These simple words: 'Jesus, I offer them to You' or any other loving words said with the intention of offering them to Me is sufficient for Me to receive them in My hand and there, My child, I will transform these ugly lumps of clay into many pearls as precious as diamonds.

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There we have it - how to cheer up God in these dismal days, and cheer up ourselves in the process. Even more, a bonus: offering Ireland (and ourselves while we're at it) to Jesus that He may melt the clay that encrusts us and, holding us in His wounded hands, reveal the precious pearls He's made us to be. 

For more on what to do for Ireland's unborn, you can check HERE, where the Angel of Fatima provided the answer at a time when world politics offered no more cheerful a prospect than now. Our part is so much simpler than we think, and perfectly summed up in the Angel's prayer recited so often by Lucia and her cousins, Saint Jacinta and Saint Francesco:

O my God, I believe, I adore, I trust, and I love Thee,
and I beg pardon for all those who do not believe, do not adore, do not trust, and do not love Thee.

O my God, I believe, I adore, I trust, and I love Thee,
and I beg pardon for all those who do not believe, do not adore, do not trust, and do not love Thee.

O my God, I believe, I adore, I trust, and I love Thee,
and I beg pardon for all those who do not believe, do not adore, do not trust, and do not love Thee.

And now that our work is done and we've gained our prize, as Jesus told Marcel, "Time has passed my child. That's enough. Go promptly." 

Oh, but one last thing - I couldn't let Trinity Sunday pass without linking you to St. Therese's Act of Oblation to Merciful Love. (You'll find it at the bottom of this page of prayers.) Today's feast, which came on June 11 in 1895, is the anniversary of the first time Therese said this Act which subsequently released her (and God's) "storm of glory" upon the world. Her prayer is full of surprises much more heartening than those you'll find in the headlines, so treat yourself to the whole shebang - and praise God from whom all blessings flow!