Saint Elizabeth of the Trinity

She chose a new name for herself, and a calling for all eternity: “Laudem Gloriae,” meaning “a praise of God’s glory.”

A contemporary of her spiritual sister Thérèse of the Child Jesus at Lisieux, Elizabeth opened a window onto a deep mystery: the Holy Trinity is not an abstract catechism formula somewhere above the clouds. The three divine Persons truly live in the depths of the soul of every baptized Christian.

She teaches us that even amid the noise and bustle of everyday life, a person can build an “inner cloister” in which to stay day and night with the Most Holy Trinity.

As a little girl, Sabeth — her pet name — was strong-willed and stubborn, and flew into furious tantrums whenever anyone crossed her. Yet deep down she had a soul unusually open to God.

When the Mother Prioress of the nearby Carmel sent her a small card explaining the meaning of the name Élisabeth in Hebrew — “Élisabeth means House of God” — the girl took it deeply to heart: her body and soul were a dwelling place for God.

Élisabeth was an outstandingly gifted musician. She studied at the Dijon Conservatory and won First Prize in piano at thirteen. When she played, music was no longer a display of technique; it became a prayer that lifted her listeners’ hearts to God.

She was a beautiful, elegant young woman who loved mountain walks and nature, and was much sought after in Dijon society.

She forbade her daughter to set foot in the monastery or even mention religious life, and kept taking Élisabeth on trips and to lavish parties to distract her.

Élisabeth patiently obeyed her mother for more than four years. She did not rebel or argue. She still wore the elegant evening gowns her mother wanted and still played the piano to delight the guests, but deep in her soul, she was already living as a true Carmelite in the world. She made her soul an “inner cloister” no one could violate.

Seeing that nothing could shake her daughter’s perseverance or her loving obedience, her mother finally gave her consent in tears, on condition that she wait until she was twenty-one.

On the day of her profession she exclaimed:

“I have found my heaven on earth, because heaven is God, and God is in my soul!”

She rediscovered and lived to the full the Church’s teaching on the indwelling of the Holy Trinity, the Inhabitatio Trinitatis:

• through baptism, the believer’s soul becomes a living Temple of God;
• the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit are not somewhere far away beyond the universe, but truly present, alive and loving at the deepest center of our soul;
• and the believer’s duty is to build inner silence, not letting the troubles and worries of the world draw us outside ourselves, always “staying within” to be united with, talk to and love the Trinity present there.

She wrote this advice to her sister Marguerite, busy with family life and small children:

“Don’t think that only nuns in a monastery can pray... Even when you are busy caring for your children or seeing to the housework, remember that God is within you! Now and then, in the middle of your hard work, turn inward for a moment, smile at God, say a word of love to Him, and then go on working. In that way your whole day becomes one continual prayer!”

On the night of November 21, 1904, after a time of fervent prayer, Sister Elizabeth wrote the prayer that has since moved the whole Church, the “Prayer to the Trinity” (O mon Dieu, Trinité que j’adore):

“O my God, Trinity whom I adore, help me to forget myself entirely so as to rest in You, still and peaceful as if my soul were already in eternity... Make my soul a second heaven for You, where You feel loved and at rest...”

The disease turned the last months of the twenty-six-year-old nun’s life into a long martyrdom: her whole digestive system was destroyed, her stomach ulcerated so that eating or swallowing a drop of water was like swallowing fire; her body wasted away, her skin darkened, and nerve pain tormented her day and night.

Yet in that furnace of pain, Elizabeth’s soul shone brightest. In Saint Paul’s Letter to the Ephesians she found the true name of her life: “Laudem Gloriae,” “the praise of His glory.”

She did not see suffering as a punishment or a curse; she received it as a great grace, a share in the Passion of Jesus for the salvation of many. She said:

“Suffering passes, but having suffered out of love remains forever!”

In her last weeks she was moved to the infirmary. She spent the last of her strength writing letters to her mother, her sister and her friends, teaching them the way into the silence of love.

On October 16, 2016, Pope Francis canonized her in Saint Peter’s Square. The Church celebrates her on November 8 each year; the Carmelites keep November 9. The Carmel of Dijon where she lived later moved to the suburb of Flavignerot; her little cell has been faithfully reconstructed there as a small museum holding her belongings, while her relics are venerated in a shrine of their own in the church of Saint Michael in the heart of Dijon, where pilgrims from all over the world still come to pray.