Trinity Sunday. The Trinity. Three Persons.
Actually: mysteriously intimate.
Elizabeth Catez was born in France in 1880, and grew up in Dijon. She entered the Carmelite monastery in Dijon in 1901. Her fascination with the Trinity led her to take the name Sister Elizabeth of the Trinity. She died in 1906 in her convent—at the age of 26—from Addison's disease. She composed a beautiful prayer to the Most Holy Trinity, an intimate prayer full of humility and hope and awe and, above all, love, a prayer that helps us to discover that, although apparently abstract, our calling to relationship with God—Father, Son and Holy Spirit—is actually mysteriously intimate. I share her prayer with you for this “Trinity Sunday”.
O my God, Trinity whom I adore, help me to become utterly forgetful of myself so that I may establish myself in you, as changeless and calm as though my soul were already in eternity. Let nothing disturb my peace nor draw me forth from you, O my unchanging God, but at every moment may I penetrate more deeply into the depths of your mystery. Give peace to my soul; make it your heaven, your cherished dwelling-place and the place of your repose. Let me never leave you there alone, but keep me there, wholly attentive, wholly alert in my faith, wholly adoring and fully given up to your creative action.
O my beloved Christ, crucified for love, I long to be the bride of your heart. I long to cover you with glory, to love you even unto death! Yet I sense my powerlessness and beg you to clothe me with yourself. Identify my soul with all the movements of your soul, submerge me, overwhelm me, substitute yourself for me, so that my life may become a reflection of your life. Come into me as Adorer, as Redeemer and as Saviour.
O Eternal Word, utterance of my God, I want to spend my life listening to you, to become totally teachable so that I might learn all from you. Through all darkness, all emptiness, all powerlessness, I want to keep my eyes fixed on you and to remain under your great light. O my Beloved Star, so fascinate me that I may never be able to leave your radiance.
O Consuming Fire, Spirit of Love, overshadow me so that the Word may be, as it were incarnate again in my soul. May I be for him a new humanity in which he can renew all his mystery.
And you, O Father, stoop towards your poor little creature. Cover her with your shadow, see in her only your beloved son in who you are well pleased.
O my `Three', my All, my Beatitude, infinite Solitude, Immensity in which I lose myself, I surrender myself to you as your prey. Immerse yourself in me so that I may be immersed in you until I go to contemplate in your light the abyss of your splendour!
Yours in the Trinitarian life,
co-sojourner in faith
From the desk of the Rector