Br. Jerome Ertelt O.Carm.
This year, on October 11, Pope John Paul II will inscribe another daughter of Carmel, Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, born Edith Stein, into the list of saints. Her life is a path of great desire and the search for truth.
Childhood
Edith Stein was born on October 12, 1891 (on the Jewish Day of Atonement, Yom Kippur) in Wrocław to a Jewish family as the last of seven children. Her father died unexpectedly on a business trip when she was not yet three years old. The atmosphere and spirit in the family were created by her mother, a devout Jewess, who sought to provide her children with a beautiful childhood and youth, despite her husband's death. With firm faith and trust in the God of Israel and great tenacity, this widow embarked on running a wood business. Through her work, insight, and fair dealings, she built a good reputation for the company. Edith later (as Sister Teresa Benedicta) recounted: “There was no talk of upbringing in our home. We children had in our mother simply a mirror of virtues. From her, we saw how we should behave. Only one thing this pious Jewess sought to instill in us: disdain for sin. When our mother said, ‘That is a sin!’, we knew she meant something disgustingly ugly that did not fit human dignity.” Mrs. Stein also purchased forests to provide people with jobs and firewood for their households. Everyone knew that she sold good wood, and it often happened that a poor customer could put their money back in their pocket. In this atmosphere of faith and love for one’s neighbor, Edith and her siblings grew up.
From a young age, she appeared very gifted and intelligent, capable of independent judgment. She was very much looking forward to going to school.
Interestingly, at the age of fourteen, she left school and learning. She expressed it later: “I had enough of schooling...” However, after two years, she returned to her studies with enthusiasm and graduated from high school with excellent results in 1911.
Student Years
On April 28, 1911, she enrolled at the University of Wrocław. She enjoyed academic freedom and studied what she loved. During this time, and until her twenty-first year, she identified as an atheist.
In 1913, she left with her friend Rosa Gutmann to Göttingen to become a student of philosopher Edmund Husserl. There, a circle of Jewish students enthusiastic about phenomenology was formed. Discussions often turned to religious questions. Some of their friends later converted to Christianity. Erika Gith, Edith's friend, recounts: “We often went on trips together, and Edith was a quietly cheerful wanderer. We philosophized together, often touching on religious questions, especially when our teacher Adolf Reinach converted to Christianity during the war and in his notes resolved to continue studying philosophy only to show others the way to faith. This moved us, even though we were still children of this world at that time. But for me, and for Edith as well, it was the first impulse toward conversion.”
During World War I, she volunteered with the Red Cross and, after appropriate training, was sent to Hranice in Moravia, assigned to the infectious disease department of a wartime hospital. After several months of service in the hospital, she returned home to Wrocław and then to Freiburg. She became Husserl's assistant, took over his seminar, organized, and cataloged his manuscripts. In the meantime, her doctoral dissertation on empathy was published in 1917. In 1918, she left Freiburg and spent 1920 in Wrocław, organizing lectures and teaching. During this period, she experienced an inner crisis.
Conversion
In March 1921, Edith traveled to Göttingen and then to Bergzabern, where she stayed with her friends, the Conrads, Theodor and Hedwig. Here, the days were spent working in the orchard and evenings in philosophy discussions. Once, when she arrived, both spouses had to leave urgently. Mrs. Hedwig led Edith to the library and said: “Choose at your leisure. Everything here is for you.” Edith recounts: “I reached into the library randomly. I pulled out a rather small book. It was titled ‘The Life of Saint Teresa of Avila’, as she herself describes it. I began to read. The book fascinated me. I finished it in one breath. When I closed it, I said to myself: THIS IS TRUTH!” That same day, she bought two books—a Catholic catechism and a missal. She immediately began studying. Then she entered a Catholic church in Hergzabern and said: “Nothing seemed foreign to me. I understood everything… After the holy mass, I went to the priest and directly asked him for baptism. With a surprised look, he told me that preparation is necessary before one joins the Church. I told him that I had prepared.” When the priest wanted to verify this, Edith was able to answer every question. The baptism took place on January 1, 1922. Edith spent New Year's Eve in prayer. However, the hardest task awaited her—to tell her mother. Each in her own way made a great sacrifice. Edith stayed in Wrocław for half a year and still accompanied her mother to the synagogue. Mrs. Stein observed in awe her “fallen” daughter. To a well-known woman, she said: “I have never seen anyone pray like Edith prays. It is something extraordinary, she prayed with us from her book and just imagine, she found all of our prayers there immediately.” Edith took a breviary and prayed with the others using the psalms.
Teacher
From 1923 to 1931, she lived with the Dominican sisters in Speyer and taught at the girls' lyceum run by the sisters. One of the sisters writes about her work: “She took over German at the teacher training institute and at the girls' lyceum. Calmly and reliably, she led the girls to their graduation. Her role in teaching and education was very fruitful. She quickly won the hearts of the girls. For all of us, she was a shining example, which continues to this day. Humble and simple, almost silently and unnoticed, she walked the quiet path of her duties, balanced, friendly, always willing and ready to help all who asked her for assistance.” She became a teacher in the true sense of the word. According to her, children in convent schools should gain enough strength to shape their lives in the spirit of Christ. She could encourage, but also give a “lesson” to those who were too confident and self-assured. However, the students loved her. In addition to this teaching and educational work, she returned to her philosophical work and mainly to studying the works of St. Thomas Aquinas.
Her friendship with the archabbot in Beuron, the Benedictine Raphael Waltzer, was of great significance for her spiritual life. She opened her soul more deeply to him than to any other priest. She also confided to him her desire for religious life, but he disagreed and saw her mission in utilizing the intellectual abilities with which God had endowed her. Thus, a series of Edith's lectures, publications, journeys... began. In this cycle of work, Edith sees as important: “...to have a quiet nook where we can be with God as if nothing else existed. Daily. I find the morning hours most suitable for this, before we plunge into the daily work—also because we learn what special tasks and missions we are given for the day, so that during the day we don't perhaps choose from it.” The archabbey in Beuron became her quiet place where her soul could breathe. In the spring of 1932, she accepted a position as a lecturer at the German Institute of Scientific Pedagogy in Münster. It seems that during her stay in Münster, Edith was the subject of curiosity. It was known when she went to bed and when she got up; she was observed during prayers, while working, and even while having fun. She loved discussing and conversing with her students, being interested in their concerns—about studies, student associations, and politics. She was cheerful but often serious and contemplative, especially as the persecution of Jews began to intensify.
Edith Stein - Sister Teresa Benedicta of the Cross
A pivotal year in Edith's life was 1933. Violence and persecution of Jews in Germany intensified. Edith wrote to Pope Pius XI. for help. It became clear that she would no longer be able to teach either in Münster or anywhere else in Germany. In this situation, she contemplated whether the time for the fulfillment of her heart's desire had come—to enter a convent. After all, the last obstacle to her doing so had fallen—her public activity. On April 30, 1933—on Good Shepherd Sunday—at the conclusion of the service at St. Ludger's, she received, as she puts it, “an answer from the Good Shepherd to her question of whether she may enter a convent: YES.”
That same evening she wrote to the archabbot, and in mid-May, permission arrived from Beuron to take preparatory steps. With the help of Dr. Cosack, she contacted the convent of Carmelites in Cologne. After an introductory conversation with the prioress and novice mistress, it was decided that they must wait for a response from the provincial. At the same time, it was hinted to her that she could not count on continuing her scholarly work. The provincial kept her waiting for a long time, so it was decided to introduce her to the convent commissioner and the chapter members who would decide on her admission. It was agreed that she would celebrate July 16—Feast of Our Lady of Mount Carmel—already in Cologne, where she would stay as a guest for a month, return home in mid-August, and on October 15, 1933, the feast of St. Teresa of Avila, would be admitted to the enclosure.
Before entering the convent, she faced another significant and difficult task: to inform her mother of this decision. She writes about it: “On the first Sunday in August, I was home alone with my mother. She sat by the window knitting, and I was sewing next to her. And then the long-awaited question arose: ‘What will you do with those sisters in Cologne?’ ‘I will live with them.’ – Outburst of desperate resistance. Mother did not stop knitting. The ball of yarn became tangled; she tried to put it in order. Her hands trembled. I tried to help her. She wouldn’t stop shouting. From that moment on, the peace was gone. The farewell was very difficult.”
She was admitted to the convent like any other postulant. Most of the sisters did not even know about her academic career, and Edith herself took care to ensure that she did not show her superiority. Of course, it was expected that she would perform and master all the little tasks of convent life. She tried to do so with her characteristic diligence, which brought her considerable humiliation, but she tried to accept everything with humor. Household chores were not her strong point. Also, living with the girls in her novitiate, who were all nearly twenty years younger than her, was often difficult. However, she shared their joys and hardships and confided in them what she was going through—especially her pain over the persecution affecting her relatives.
After a six-month trial period, she received the religious habit and the name Teresa Benedicta of the Cross on April 15, 1934—on Good Shepherd Sunday. This name seemed to foreshadow what the Lord had chosen her for. Many of her friends, colleagues, students, and religious sisters came to her profession. After the profession, the provincial conducted a visitation, asking her about her academic work and ordering that she be released to complete her work “Ability and Action.” She began to receive various requests for literary work. Even as a Carmelite, she remained in close contact with the world and with those she loved. She did not long for visits, but she dedicated herself to each person as they needed. From the beginning, she was allowed to write to her mother once a week. However, she never received any replies.
Sister Benedicta made her first vows on April 21, 1935—on Easter Sunday. What she experienced on this great occasion can be hinted at by the memory of a sister who asked her that day: “How do you feel?” Sister Benedicta replied: “Like the Bride of the Lamb!”
Some time after taking her vows, she told her mother the whole truth about herself in a letter. She was very pleased when, after some time, she discovered in a letter from her sister Rosa a greeting from her mother. This then became a practice. In every letter, there would be a little note from her mother. Several weeks before Pentecost 1936, she learned that her mother had fallen ill. On the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, September 14, 1936, Mrs. Stein passed away. On that day, a period of great Lent began in Carmel, and vows were renewed throughout the entire order. Sister Benedicta experienced that day like this: “When it was my turn to renew the vow, my mother was with me. I distinctly felt her closeness.” On that same day, a telegram arrived that her mother had passed away, and she died just as her daughter was renewing her vows. This coincidence was a great comfort to Sister Benedicta.
On December 24, 1936, her biological sister Rosa was baptized in Hohenlind. Sister Benedicta received the most beautiful Christmas gift—she was able to attend this baptism. This was possible because she had broken her left arm and leg on December 14 and had to be hospitalized. Her condition improved enough for her to be discharged on December 24, and Dr. Hopmann requested to drive her a little detour through Hohenlind.
On April 10, 1938, there was an election day, and a certain confusion reigned in the Cologne Carmel regarding how to act because it was already clear that National Socialism and its principles were hostile to God and humanity. There was fear as well, since the Gestapo had already unreasonably expelled many religious men and women from their convents onto the street. Most sisters thought that it was all the same how to vote since everything was already prepared. Sister Benedicta strongly opposed this and urged the sisters not to vote for Hitler, regardless of the consequences. On the morning of election day, gentlemen from the electoral commission even came to the convent parlor with a ballot box so the sisters could vote. The prioress resisted, but they were adamant, and the sisters had to vote according to the list. When it was Sister Benedicta's turn and her origin was revealed—that she was a Jewish non-Aryan—the gentlemen became alarmed and hastily left the convent.
On April 21, Sister Benedicta took her perpetual vows. After that—on Good Shepherd Sunday, May 1, 1938—she received the black veil.
In that same year, disturbing news about the burning of synagogues, pogroms against Jews, and persecution of those who defended Jews began to penetrate even behind the convent walls. Sister Benedicta said of this: “This is the shadow of the cross that falls on my nation. May it at least see through now! It is the fulfillment of the curse it has invoked upon itself. Cain must be persecuted, but woe to him who lays a hand on him!”
Under the pressure of these reports and the experience of the elections, serious consideration began to be given to her emigration. Sister Benedicta would have preferred to go to Palestine, but German laws did not allow it, so the prioress of the Carmelites in Dutch Echt was asked if they might accept Sister Benedicta, as she “needed a change of air.” The sisters understood, and thus Advent 1938 was marked by preparations and the acquisition of necessary documents. On December 31, 1938, she moved. The sisters welcomed her with love and some curiosity. They were captivated by “her simple and modest demeanor, her kindness of heart, and her fine tact.”
In Echt, Sister Benedicta continued her work on the family chronicle and also in other literary activities, mainly finishing the work “Science of the Cross,” which she dedicated every free moment to.
In the summer of 1940, her sister Rosa was also able to move to the Netherlands. She took over the responsibilities at the convent gate and helped in the garden. In the same year, the Netherlands was unlawfully occupied by Germany, and a campaign against convents was unleashed in Germany. In the Netherlands, the German authorities acted against Jews in the same way as in Germany. Therefore, it was decided that Sister Benedicta would use the help of her friends in Switzerland and attempt to get accepted into one of the Swiss convents. This was in January 1942. A race against time ensued. The problem was that Sister Benedicta did not want to part with her sister Rosa. That was eventually resolved, and the sisters applied for a Swiss visa. They had to undergo interviews and interrogations at various offices, fill out stacks of questionnaires, endure rude treatment, etc.
Meanwhile, on July 4, 1942, the sisters in the Swiss Le Paquier approved the request for Sister Benedicta’s admission to their convent.
However, on August 2, 1942, she faced an unpleasant surprise. The Gestapo came to the convent parlor, stating that both sisters must leave the convent within five minutes. The gentlemen were uncompromising. They threatened that if the prioress did not grant permission for leaving the enclosure, it would have consequences for the entire convent. What happened to the Stein sisters was not an isolated incident. It was part of a Nazi act of revenge against Catholics of Jewish descent for the pastoral letter of the Dutch bishops. The sisters were taken away at a time when all the necessary documents for emigration to Switzerland had already been processed. The cell in Le Paquier was still prepared for a long time. The fellow sisters in the convent in Echt anxiously awaited any news about both sisters. On the morning of August 5, a telegram arrived asking to send someone to the collection camp in Westerbork near Hooghalen with warm clothing and blankets. This was also done. During the cleaning of Sister Benedicta’s cell, a note was found on which she had written that she wanted to offer herself for the conversion of Jews. That note was also sent to her, so it was lost. But in the Cologne convent, a postcard from January 1939 is preserved, where Sister Benedicta writes: “Dear Mother, I ask your reverence to allow me to offer myself to the Heart of Jesus as a peace offering for a true peace: that the government of the Antichrist may collapse without a new world war, and that a new and just order may be established. I would like to do that today; it is twelve o’clock. I know I am nothing, but Jesus wishes it, and surely calls thousands of others to it.”
On August 8, 1942, a second letter arrived in which Sister Benedicta still asked for some items for herself and for Rosa. She informed that the next morning, the first transport would leave for the east. The last news of Sister Benedicta is from that August 7, 1942. At the train station in Schifferstadt, she called from the train to one of her former students: “Greetings to the sisters at St. Magdalena. We are going east.” One sister in Liob in Freiburg received a card without a date. “Greetings from the journey to Poland. S. Teresa Benedicta.” After the war, the sisters sought to trace more about Sister Benedicta with the help of the Red Cross; there were few reports. It is proven that the transport sent on August 7, 1942, from Westerbork arrived on August 9 at Auschwitz, and the victims of this transport were not sent to work (and thus were not listed in any lists of labor camp prisoners), but immediately that same day were killed in the gas chambers.
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