St. Therese of Lisieux shares the title Doctor of the Church with three other female saints: St. Catherine of Siena, St. Teresa of Avila and St. Hildegard von Bingen. A Doctor of the Church is a saint who has notably contributed to the Church’s understanding of doctrine and theology. When Pope St. John Paul II named St. Therese a Doctor of the Church, he published a document with an illuminating title: “Divini Amoris Scientia” (“The Science of Divine Love”).

In the modern sense, pursuing a doctorate takes countless hours of reading and research to produce a thesis or dissertation. Therese was never found poring over heaps of books, and her autobiography, “The Story of a Soul,” hardly looks like the kind of dissertation you might find on the shelves of an institution of higher learning. Yet, the pages of her story contain priceless pearls of wisdom. I will give you three brief reasons why I think Therese is one the greatest saints and is suitably named a Doctor of the Church.

First, Therese’s life is a stark reminder of one of the most unique teachings of Jesus: “I praise you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the learned, and revealed them to little children,” (Matthew 11:25) and “Amen I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 18:3). Therese reminds us that the road to heaven involves a radical, childlike dependence on our Father, trusting in His tender care for us.

My second point is related to the first. Therese grew up in France, which was still riddled with the rigorism and scrupulosity of Jansenism. Therese’s grandmother was known to berate her mother with a perfectionist spirit: “That’s a sin. That’s a sin. That’s a sin.” Additionally, Therese encountered several Jansenist priests who were more familiar with servile fear than tender love. Therese’s life is a rejection of this erroneous notion of who God is. For Therese, God is a tender and loving Father. When others saw God as a tyrant, as they fearfully tiptoed around every trap they felt He had set for them, Therese confidently bounded to her loving Father, casting herself into His arms both in life and in death.

Third, Therese is also an answer to the cynicism and emptiness of the Enlightenment. Joseph Pearce calls the Enlightenment the Disenchantment (which means, “to take the music/singing out of”). If the Enlightenment thinkers took the music out of the world with their rationalism and atheism, Therese sings it back into the world with her famous chant: “Grace, grace, everything is grace!” Therese was constantly enchanted by the goodness and love of her Father.

Doctors of the Church are not necessarily medical doctors. Then again, perhaps Therese’s life and her saintly companionship are a salve for our souls. Sometimes, we can be too “grown up” for our own good. If Therese can help us to live like children in the arms of our loving Father, we may yet rediscover the music of a God who “gives joy to our youth!” (Psalm 42:4).

Father Conor Sullivan is currently in residence at Immacolata Parish as he works for the Archdiocese of St. Louis, the Vocations Office and Kenrick-Glennon Seminary as a provisionally licensed psychologist.