Those who seek to please God without reservation, at all times and in every situation, draw upon themselves the divine gaze and receive from the Sacred Heart of Jesus the greatest affection and care.
St. Teresa Margaret Redi, Discalced Carmelite Virgin
Pious formation under paternal guidance
On July 15, 1747, the small and beautiful city of Arezzo was the setting for the birth of the second of Ignatius Redi and Camilla Balatti’s thirteen children. At the baptismal font she received the name Anne-Marie. The eminent Balatti family belonged to the nobility of the city of Siena, and Ignatius Redi held a distinguished position as grandmaster of the Military Order of St. Stephen – factors that combined to provide the girl with a peaceful childhood under favourable conditions, regulated by the acts of piety that tradition prescribed. From an early age, she received graces that prepared her well in advance for the mission that God had reserved for her. The first instrument Providence used to give direction to Anne-Marie’s spiritual path was her own father. A contemplative and pious man, he used to take his daughter on walks that ended up at the Capuchins’ church. Along the way he taught her how to pray the Salve Regina and the litanies, as well as how to look for the Creator in the beautiful Tuscan panorama: in the flowers, in the birds, in the sky... in everything! In this way, Ignatius Redi encouraged his little one to “spot” God in each of His creatures. Also contributing to her Christian formation was the influence of her uncle Diego, a priest of the Society of Jesus. It was he who, years later, would introduce Anne-Marie to the devotion she enthusiastically embraced and to which she devoted her life: the Sacred Heart of Jesus. The custom of the time counselled the education of girls in convents, with one of the nuns as tutor. There they received the necessary formation to become good Christian ladies or, perhaps, if they showed signs of a vocation, to enter that same monastery. Thus, when Anne-Marie was nine years old her parents sent her to the Benedictine Monastery of St. Apollonia in the city of Florence. For seven years it pleased God to keep hidden in that cloister the little gemstone that He was polishing for himself. It is astonishing that one of the few testimonies that remain about her from that time says: “She was a good and normal girl; nothing extraordinary was noted in her behaviour.”2 God destined her, from her earliest youth, to pass unnoticed by human eyes in order to shine only for Him.Danger sighted: Jansenism
With the outbreak of the Jansenist heresy, characterized by its rigid, formal and gloomy moralism, much of the society of the time had tasted of its poison and was consequently dominated by the almost exclusive consideration of God’s justice, to the exclusion of another of His perfections, goodness. The cold and corrosive lava of Jansenism even seeped into cloisters and monasteries and threatened to form generations of religious who, only fearing the Lord, would forget the practice of the First Commandment: “Love God above all things.” It was at this moment in Anne-Marie’s life that Divine Providence revived in her soul the teachings of her father and her uncle Diego, both fervent enthusiasts of devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus that was timidly emerging in France. Although immersed in an environment where God was conceived as a ruthless Judge, the tender love that flowed from the Divine Heart attracted and strengthened her in the resolution she had made in early childhood: to please God in everything. This devotion was the portal through which the Most High wished to open His intimacy with Anne-Marie, and the solid foundation that enabled her to remain steadfast in her faith amid the rigorist deviations of Jansenism. Anne-Marie shaped her spiritual life through the contemplation of the mystery of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, especially under the Eucharistic Species, and made the altar her delight. She would remain almost motionless for long hours in a mystical dialogue with Him who “so loved men.” The superiors of the convent of St. Apollonia, noting the young woman’s tendency to soar to supernatural things, imagined that they would soon have another novice in the community. But God reserved for His daughter an even deeper relationship with His Sacred Heart, amid austerity and silence.
St. Teresa of Avila, San José Convent, Avila (Spain)Curious call to a vocation
In September 1763, a former student of the school of St. Apollonia appeared at the doors of the establishment to say goodbye to her former teachers. Cecilia Albergotti, a compatriot of Anne-Marie from one of the families of Arezzo’s high society, had decided to enter Carmel in order to seek her sanctification and better serve the Church. The word “Carmel” resounded in Anne-Marie’s soul with a timbre of mystery and irresistible attraction. Perhaps it suggested to her the feats of St. Elijah, the promise of the coming of the Blessed Virgin into the world, and the invitation to a close commerce with Heaven through radicality, sobriety and contemplation. While she was talking with Cecilia, Anne-Marie heard, mystically, with her interior senses, a distinct and clear voice that said: “I am Teresa of Jesus and I want you among my daughters!”3 Frightened, she ran to the altar to take refuge in the Sacred Heart of Jesus, but to her surprise the voice spoke again, this time leaving no room for doubt: “I am Teresa of Jesus and I want you among my daughters; soon you will be in my monastery.”4 The spiritual heritage left by St. Teresa of Avila is based on the stripping away of earthly things in order to ascend without hindrance to the celestial absolutes. The call that St. Teresa makes to each of her daughters in all things is far from an easy and comfortable one. And perhaps this is precisely the reason why it attracts so many souls thirsting to give themselves to God with heroism. The decision of the young Anne-Marie to become a Carmelite surprised not only her teachers but also her family. And it brought her a period of trial on account of relatives who secretly harboured the hope that she enter the Benedictine Order. Ignatius Redi, a prudent and devout man, wanted to try his daughter in the virtues that would be required of her by the strict Carmelite Order. For this reason he obliged her to wait long months in which he tested her docility, solicitude, obedience and, finally, even her faith. The last of these tests was a real interrogation by three illustrious ecclesiastics who, examining her, concluded that the Carmel was the best place for her to love, serve and glorify God. After this trying period, in which time and waiting conspired as merciless tormenters for Anne-Marie, she finally said goodbye to her family and entered the “garden of God” in the city of Florence.Another “Teresa” in the Carmel
Apparition of the Sacred Heart of Jesus to St. Margaret Mary Alacoque, Gesù Church, Miami
Obedience put to the test
What is known of the life of St. Teresa Margaret behind the cloistered walls is what could be expected of any fervent Carmelite: outstanding obedience, angelic purity and evangelical poverty. We may ask ourselves, then: what extraordinary things did she do to deserve the honour of the altars? The answer is profoundly simple: by practising these three virtues to a heroic degree, she was faithful to the vow she made in her childhood to “please God in everything.” The narrations of her life relate a noteworthy episode which illustrates this reality. At one point, her obedience was put to the test when her superior entrusted her with the care of a sister who suffered from dementia. Once an exemplary religious, the sick woman had become extremely hostile, brutish and rebellious. She had fits of madness in which she “demanded to eat precisely what the doctors forbade” or “indignantly rejected what she had wished for just moments before.”5 When her will was not heeded she immediately unleashed all her fury against her benefactor. The young nurse was often insulted and humiliated by her. There was another nun who had to share the duty of caring for the sick religious with the Saint. To make matters worse, this assistant had a false concept of charity and, in order to avoid mistreatment, she consented to satisfy all the sick woman’s whims. It was a complicated situation for St. Teresa Margaret: if she took care of the patient’s health according to the norms received, she would draw down on herself a torrent of insults, in addition to the misunderstanding of the other nun, who would blame her for the patient’s angry outbursts; if she consented to some of the desires of both, she would disobey the superior. In this impasse, she preferred to accept shame and affronts, thereby purchasing graces of fortitude and salvation for both the patient and her fellow sister nurse, rather than yielding in matters of obedience.
St. Teresa Margaret Redi -Church of the Holy Angel, Seville (Spain)