The Strength of Being Small
There is something wonderfully unreasonable about sending lambs among wolves.
If we were organizing the expedition, we would probably improve the arrangements. We would give the lambs armor. We would issue provisions, prepare contingency plans, arrange transportation, and perhaps form a committee to study the wolves.
Christ does none of this.
“Go,” he says.
And on this morning the Church remembers Saint Thérèse of Lisieux, who discovered much the same mystery from behind the walls of a Carmelite convent. She did not cross continents. She did not command armies. She did not found a great institution.
She became small.
And somehow the smallness became enormous.
Let us carry that strange thought into prayer.
Opening Verse
Lord, open my lips.
And my mouth shall declare thy praise.
Invitatory
Come, let us adore the Lord, who reveals his kingdom to the little ones.
Psalm 94 (95)
Come let us praise the Lord with joy:
let us joyfully sing to God our saviour.
Let us come before his presence with thanksgiving;
and make a joyful noise to him with psalms.
For the Lord is a great God,
and a great King above all gods.
For in his hand are all the ends of the earth:
and the heights of the mountains are his.
For the sea is his, and he made it:
and his hands formed the dry land.
Come let us adore and fall down:
and weep before the Lord that made us.
For he is the Lord our God:
and we are the people of his pasture and the sheep of his hand.
Today if you shall hear his voice,
harden not your hearts:
As in the provocation, according to the day of temptation in the wilderness:
where your fathers tempted me, they proved me, and saw my works.
Forty years long was I offended with that generation,
and I said: These always err in heart.
And these men have not known my ways:
so I swore in my wrath that they shall not enter into my rest.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Come, let us adore the Lord, who reveals his kingdom to the little ones.
Psalmody
Psalm 79 (80)
Stir up thy might, O Lord, and come to save us.
Give ear, O thou that rulest Israel:
thou that leadest Joseph like a sheep.
Thou that sittest upon the cherubims, shine forth
Before Ephraim, Benjamin, and Manasses.
Stir up thy might, and come to save us.
Convert us, O God:
and shew us thy face, and we shall be saved.
O Lord God of hosts,
how long wilt thou be angry against the prayer of thy servant?
How long wilt thou feed us with the bread of tears:
and give us for our drink tears in measure?
Thou hast made us to be a contradiction to our neighbours:
and our enemies have scoffed at us.
O God of hosts, convert us:
and shew thy face, and we shall be saved.
Thou hast brought a vineyard out of Egypt:
thou hast cast out the Gentiles and planted it.
Thou wast the guide of its journey in its sight:
thou plantedst the roots thereof, and it filled the land.
The shadow of it covered the hills:
and the branches thereof the cedars of God.
It stretched forth its branches unto the sea,
and its boughs unto the river.
Why hast thou broken down the hedge thereof,
so that all they who pass by the way do pluck it?
The boar out of the wood hath laid it waste:
and a singular wild beast hath devoured it.
Turn again, O God of hosts,
look down from heaven, and see, and visit this vineyard:
And perfect the same which thy right hand hath planted:
and upon the son of man whom thou hast confirmed for thyself.
Things set on fire and dug down
shall perish at the rebuke of thy countenance.
Let thy hand be upon the man of thy right hand:
and upon the son of man whom thou hast confirmed for thyself.
And we depart not from thee, thou shalt quicken us:
and we will call upon thy name.
O Lord God of hosts, convert us:
and shew thy face, and we shall be saved.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Stir up thy might, O Lord, and come to save us.
Canticle — Isaiah 12
With joy shall we draw water from the fountains of the Saviour.
I will give thanks to thee, O Lord, for thou wast angry with me:
thy wrath is turned away, and thou hast comforted me.
Behold, God is my saviour,
I will deal confidently, and will not fear:
Because the Lord is my strength, and my praise,
and he is become my salvation.
You shall draw waters with joy
out of the saviour’s fountains:
And you shall say in that day:
Praise ye the Lord, and call upon his name:
Make his works known among the people:
remember that his name is high.
Sing ye to the Lord, for he hath done great things:
shew this forth in all the earth.
Rejoice, and praise, O thou habitation of Sion:
for great is he that is in the midst of thee, the Holy One of Israel.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
With joy shall we draw water from the fountains of the Saviour.
Psalm 80 (81)
Rejoice to God our helper; sing aloud to the God of Jacob.
Rejoice to God our helper:
sing aloud to the God of Jacob.
Take a psalm, and bring hither the timbrel:
the pleasant psaltery with the harp.
Blow up the trumpet on the new moon,
on the noted day of your solemnity.
For it is a commandment in Israel,
and a judgment to the God of Jacob.
He ordained it for a testimony in Joseph,
when he came out of the land of Egypt:
he heard a tongue which he knew not.
He removed his back from the burdens:
his hands had served in baskets.
Thou calledst upon me in affliction, and I delivered thee:
I heard thee in the secret place of tempest:
I proved thee at the waters of contradiction.
Hear, O my people, and I will testify to thee:
O Israel, if thou wilt hearken to me,
There shall be no new god in thee:
neither shalt thou adore a strange god.
For I am the Lord thy God,
who brought thee out of the land of Egypt:
Open thy mouth wide,
and I will fill it.
But my people heard not my voice:
and Israel hearkened not to me.
So I let them go according to the desires of their heart:
they shall walk in their own inventions.
If my people had heard me:
if Israel had walked in my ways:
I should soon have humbled their enemies,
and laid my hand on them that troubled them.
The enemies of the Lord have lied to him:
and their time shall be for ever.
And he fed them with the fat of wheat,
and filled them with honey out of the rock.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Rejoice to God our helper; sing aloud to the God of Jacob.
Short Reading
Romans 14:17–19
For the kingdom of God is not meat and drink: but justice and peace and joy in the Holy Ghost.
For he that in this serveth Christ pleaseth God and is approved of men.
Therefore let us follow after the things that are of peace and keep the things that are of edification, one towards another.
Short Responsory
Teach us thy little way, O Lord.
That we may walk with confidence in thy love.
Make us faithful in the work thou hast placed before us.
That we may walk with confidence in thy love.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.
Teach us thy little way, O Lord.
Gospel of the Day
Luke 10:1–12
And after these things the Lord appointed also other seventy-two: and he sent them two and two before his face into every city and place whither he himself was to come.
And he said to them: The harvest indeed is great, but the labourers are few. Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he send labourers into his harvest.
Go: Behold I send you as lambs among wolves.
Carry neither purse, nor scrip, nor shoes; and salute no man by the way.
Into whatsoever house you enter, first say: Peace be to this house.
And if the son of peace be there, your peace shall rest upon him; but if not, it shall return to you.
And in the same house, remain, eating and drinking such things as they have: for the labourer is worthy of his hire. Remove not from house to house.
And into what city soever you enter, and they receive you, eat such things as are set before you.
And heal the sick that are therein, and say to them: The kingdom of God is come nigh unto you.
But into whatsoever city you enter, and they receive you not, going forth into the streets thereof, say:
Even the very dust of your city that cleaveth to us, we wipe off against you. Yet know this, that the kingdom of God is at hand.
I say to you, it shall be more tolerable at that day for Sodom, than for that city.
Benedictus
Unless you turn and become as little children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
Canticle of Zachary — Luke 1:68–79
Blessed be the Lord God of Israel;
because he hath visited and wrought the redemption of his people:
And hath raised up an horn of salvation to us,
in the house of David his servant:
As he spoke by the mouth of his holy prophets,
who are from the beginning:
Salvation from our enemies,
and from the hand of all that hate us:
To perform mercy to our fathers,
and to remember his holy testament,
The oath, which he swore to Abraham our father,
that he would grant to us,
That being delivered from the hand of our enemies,
we may serve him without fear,
In holiness and justice before him,
all our days.
And thou, child, shalt be called the prophet of the Highest:
for thou shalt go before the face of the Lord to prepare his ways:
To give knowledge of salvation to his people,
unto the remission of their sins:
Through the bowels of the mercy of our God,
in which the Orient from on high hath visited us:
To enlighten them that sit in darkness, and in the shadow of death:
to direct our feet into the way of peace.
Glory be to the Father, and to the Son,
and to the Holy Ghost.
As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be,
world without end. Amen.
Unless you turn and become as little children, you shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
Intercessions
Christ sent his disciples into the world carrying little except his word and his peace. Trusting not in our own strength but in his, let us pray:
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
For the Church: that she may proclaim the Gospel with courage, simplicity, and joy, never trusting merely in wealth, influence, or worldly power.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
For the Holy Father, bishops, priests, deacons, religious, missionaries, and all who labor in the harvest: strengthen those who are weary and call new workers into thy service.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
For our communities and nations: make us instruments of peace in homes, workplaces, schools, parishes, and streets where anger and suspicion have taken root.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
For our work today: keep us faithful in unnoticed duties, patient with interruptions, generous toward those who need us, and willing to do small things with great love.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
For our families and those entrusted to our care: protect them, guide them, reconcile what is divided, and teach us to recognize the holiness hidden in ordinary life together.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
For the sick, lonely, frightened, unemployed, grieving, and forgotten: may Christ draw near to them through the kindness of another person today.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
For those who have died: receive them into the fullness of thy kingdom, where every longing is answered and every wound healed.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
For ourselves: free us from the desire always to appear important, successful, powerful, or indispensable. Give us the confidence of children who know whose hands hold them.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee.
Our Father
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come.
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
Amen.
Concluding Prayer
O God, who delightest to reveal the riches of thy kingdom to the humble and childlike, grant us, through the intercession of Saint Thérèse, simplicity of heart and confidence in thy mercy.
Teach us to seek no greatness apart from thee, to receive the duties of this day with love, and to trust that nothing offered to thee is ever truly small.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
Blessing
May the Lord bless us, protect us from all evil, and bring us to everlasting life.
Amen.
The Paradox of the Day
The kingdom becomes enormous precisely where we are willing to become small.
Chesterton for the Morning
G. K. Chesterton wrote:
“The very smallness of children makes it possible to regard them as marvels.”
— The Defendant, “A Defence of Baby-Worship”
A Chestertonian Meditation
There is a peculiar moment in the morning when the world is both very large and very small.
Perhaps it is when the first light catches the edge of a field. Perhaps it is when the coffee begins to make its familiar noise in the kitchen. Perhaps it is the sound of a door closing as somebody leaves early for work.
Nothing remarkable has happened.
And yet the whole world has begun again.
We are inclined to think that important things ought to announce themselves properly. History should arrive with trumpets. Providence ought to send an agenda. If God intends to do something significant, surely there should at least be a meeting about it.
But God has an alarming habit of beginning enormous things in ridiculously small places.
Bethlehem was not Rome.
Nazareth was not Jerusalem.
A manger was not a throne.
Twelve fishermen were not an empire.
And Thérèse Martin was not, by any reasonable worldly measurement, a particularly promising candidate for worldwide influence.
She entered a convent.
She prayed.
She suffered.
She performed ordinary duties.
She tried to love the person immediately in front of her.
Then she died at twenty-four.
The modern world would hardly know what to do with such a résumé.
There is no impressive list of accomplishments. No organization bears witness to her administrative genius. No army marched under her command. She did not travel the globe preaching the Gospel.
Yet today Catholics across that globe remember her.
The Church calls her a Doctor.
That is the sort of joke Providence seems to enjoy.
The little nun who scarcely went anywhere became a patroness of missions.
The woman who sought no intellectual fame became a Doctor of the Church.
The soul that deliberately chose littleness became enormous.
But the Gospel this morning makes the joke even stranger.
Christ sends seventy-two disciples out to prepare his way, and his instructions seem almost calculated to make the mission unsuccessful.
“Carry neither purse, nor scrip, nor shoes.”
We would naturally reverse the instructions.
Take money.
Take supplies.
Take backup supplies.
Take suitable footwear.
Take communications equipment.
Take something with which to defend yourself from the wolves, because Christ has rather ominously mentioned wolves.
Instead, Christ strips the mission down until there is very little left.
A disciple.
Another disciple.
Peace.
And God.
Perhaps that is the point.
We spend a surprising amount of life accumulating things that reassure us that we will not need Providence.
We want enough money that nothing unexpected can hurt us.
Enough knowledge that nothing can surprise us.
Enough planning that nothing can derail us.
Enough reputation that nobody can dismiss us.
Enough strength that nobody can wound us.
There is prudence in preparing properly. Christianity has never required us to throw away common sense.
But prudence can quietly become something else.
We can build so elaborate a defense against uncertainty that eventually there is very little room left for trust.
Thérèse found another road.
Her “little way” was not a celebration of incompetence. It was not pretending that weakness is strength or that effort does not matter.
It was the recognition of scale.
A child standing beside her father is genuinely small.
The mistake would be for the child to conclude that because she is small, the father must be small too.
That is what we often do with God.
We discover our own limitations and quietly transfer them to him.
I cannot fix this, therefore it cannot be fixed.
I cannot see the path, therefore there is no path.
I cannot carry this, therefore it cannot be carried.
I cannot imagine how anything good could come from this, therefore nothing good can.
Thérèse’s answer is almost comically simple.
Of course you are small.
You are the child.
Chesterton understood something of this when he wrote that “the very smallness of children makes it possible to regard them as marvels.”
A child’s hand is astonishing precisely because it is tiny.
Five absurdly small fingers pick up a spoon, button a coat, clutch another hand, point at the moon.
We do not despise the hand because it is small.
We marvel that so much life is contained within it.
Perhaps God sees our lives rather more like that.
We look at the smallness.
He sees the life.
We see an ordinary breakfast made for someone we love.
He sees charity.
We see an email answered patiently when irritation would have been easier.
He sees charity.
We see a prayer said badly because we were tired and distracted.
He sees a child turning toward his Father.
We see a visit to somebody lonely, a ride given, a dish washed, a mistake forgiven, a bill paid, a difficult conversation begun, a task completed when nobody will ever know who did it.
And because these things are small, we imagine they cannot possibly matter very much.
But Christianity makes the extraordinary claim that love changes the scale of things.
A cup of water can enter eternity.
A widow’s coin can outweigh fortunes.
Bread can become the center of the universe.
And a young Carmelite nun performing ordinary duties in Normandy can become the patroness of missionaries.
The kingdom of God has always had suspiciously poor respect for our measurements.
This may be particularly useful to remember when we feel that our own field of action has become smaller.
There are seasons when we can build things, travel, lead, create, teach, organize, and begin great projects.
There are other seasons when the boundaries close in.
Illness can do it.
Age can do it.
Responsibility can do it.
A child who needs us can do it.
A parent who needs us can do it.
Disappointment can do it.
Suddenly the grand things we imagined doing are replaced by a very small circle of immediate duties.
And it is tempting to believe that the important part of life is happening somewhere else.
Thérèse says otherwise.
Christ says otherwise.
The kingdom is not necessarily somewhere else.
“The kingdom of God is come nigh unto you.”
Nigh.
Near.
Here.
The disciple enters a house and says, “Peace be to this house.”
Not peace to the empire.
Not peace to the century.
Peace to this house.
There is something wonderfully manageable about that.
We may not be able to repair the world before breakfast.
We can bring peace into one room.
We may not solve the loneliness of mankind.
We can telephone one lonely person.
We may not evangelize a continent.
We can behave as though Christ is real in the next conversation we have.
We may not perform a heroic sacrifice today.
We can perform an unheroic one without complaining.
And perhaps this is why the little way is much harder than it sounds.
Great deeds are occasionally required of us.
Little deeds are required constantly.
There is romance in imagining oneself marching into danger.
There is considerably less romance in being charitable to the same irritating person for the four-hundredth time.
Yet holiness is very often hidden there.
Not because God loves small things instead of great ones.
But because God loves us—and most of human life is made of small things.
A lifetime is not usually one magnificent act.
It is thousands upon thousands of mornings.
Thousands of meals.
Thousands of conversations.
Thousands of decisions almost nobody remembers.
Thousands of chances to say yes or no to love.
Thérèse understood that if those little moments belong to God, eventually the whole life belongs to God.
And so this morning we need not wait for greatness.
The sun has risen again.
The coffee is getting cold.
There is work to be done.
Someone will need patience.
Someone will need encouragement.
Something will go wrong.
Something unexpectedly beautiful may happen.
And somewhere among these utterly ordinary things, the kingdom of God will come very near.
We need only become small enough to notice it.
Closing
Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, teach us the courage of the little way.
May we enter this day without needing to be impressive, without needing to control everything, and without despising the small opportunities placed in our hands.
And when the work seems too large and we seem too small, remind us which of those two things is supposed to be God.
Lord, make us small enough to trust thee—and faithful enough to begin.
Chesterton Radio