Edith Stein, Poet

A Sure Way: Following Truth in a World on Fire, an introduction to Edith Stein’s writings that publishes today, is the latest addition to the Plough Spritiual Guides series.

Secretum meum mihi. My secret is my own. This was German-Jewish philosopher Edith Stein’s reply when asked about her decision to convert to Christianity. Invoking the Latin translation of the prophet Isaiah, she averted inquiries into her “hidden life,” the deep spiritual landscape within her heart and soul. It was in this hidden life that Stein encountered the living God, and where she decided to turn her life toward the Christian faith.

Born into an assimilated but observant Jewish family, Edith Stein became one of the first German women to earn a doctorate in philosophy. Feeling called to serve others, she volunteered as a nurse with the Red Cross during World War I and advocated for women’s right to vote. She then converted to Catholicism. Following the rise of the Nazi party, Stein was removed from her public teaching post because of her Jewish heritage. Shortly thereafter, she entered a Carmelite convent, where she continued her scholarly and spiritual pursuits as a nun. For her safety, her religious order smuggled her out of Germany to a convent in the Netherlands, but that didn’t save her from being arrested, deported, and killed at Auschwitz. Today Stein is considered a martyr and canonized as Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross. Edith Stein is a critical figure in modern Jewish-Christian encounter, a major voice in twentieth century European philosophy and theology, and an exemplar of a multifaceted modern woman.

Stein wrote extensively across genres, penning philosophical treatises and academic translations, personal essays and public lectures, exhortatory letters and intimate memoirs. Among her oeuvre is a significant corpus of spiritual writings, including short meditations, spiritual essays, and poetry. While she famously deflected when asked about her conversion to Christianity, her spiritual writings give us a window into her “hidden life.” Particularly through her poetry, deeply intimate yet rich in theological themes, Stein gives glimpses into her personal spirituality and her relationship to Christ.

The following series of poems is excerpted from A Sure Way: Following Truth in a World on Fire (Plough, 2026), and three of the poems are published for the first time in English translation. In these texts, Stein reflects on concepts central to Christianity: the mystery of the Incarnation, the symbol of suffering in the cross, the hope of the Resurrection, and the promise of new life in Christ. Through her poetry, Stein not only attests to the presence of a living God at work within her but also invites her readers to encounter the divine for themselves – to seek out a hidden life of their own. —Carolyn Beard, translator

Signum Crucis

For Edith Stein, the cross is the essential symbol of Christianity. She wrote this poem, “Signum Crucis” (Sign of the Cross), on November 16, 1937, about five months before she took her final vows. In her reflection on the meaning of this symbol, Stein observes that the cross points to Jesus’ humanity, connects man and the divine, and reminds us of God’s boundless love for us.

Juxta crucem tecum stare!
These words you wrote in a little book
For someone who carries the sign of the cross.
With the shadow of the cross already cast over you,
It lowered onto your shoulder,
Hard and heavy.

Becoming human for the sake of humanity,
He gave the fullness of his human life
For the souls of his beloved.
He who individually formed each human heart,
In a new name he wants to reveal
The secret meaning of his being,
Which only he understands, which is his alone:
He has united himself with each of his beloved
In his own, deeply mysterious way.
He gifts us from his human life
The fullness of the cross.

What is the cross?
It is the sign of the deepest indignity.
Whoever touches it is cast out of the human race.
Those who once cheered for him
Timidly turn away and know him no more.
Defenseless, he is helpless before his enemies.
Nothing remains for him on earth
But pain, torment, and death.

What is the cross?
It is the sign that points to heaven.
It rises high above earthly dust and fog
and into the pure light.
Let go of things that can be taken away.
Open your hands and cling to the cross:
It will carry you up into eternal light.

Look to the cross:
It spreads its beams,
Just as he opens his arms
As if to embrace the whole world:
Come here, all you weary and heavy laden.
Even you who called me: go to the cross with him.
It is the image of the God who died on the cross.
It ascends from earth to heaven
Like him who ascended to heaven,
And I would like to take it all with me.
Embrace the cross and you will have him,
The Truth, the Way, and the Life.
If you carry your cross, it will carry you,
And will bring you salvation.

Easter Morning

Written on April 20, 1924, just two years after her baptism and almost a decade prior to her entrance into the monastery, this poem is an early example of Edith Stein’s religious poetry and one of the few poems of hers that celebrate the Resurrection. In the early hours of Easter morning, Stein envisions Christ bringing new life to the natural world around him.

Dark is the night of the grave,
but the radiance of the holy wounds
breaks through the heaviness of the stone,
lifts it lightly and suspended aside;
from the darkness of the tomb rises high
the transfigured, bright and radiant
newly risen body of the Son of Man.

Quietly he steps out of the cave
into the still, quiet morning twilight.
A light mist covers the earth;
it is now deeply illuminated
by a white gleam—
and the Savior walks through the silence
of the newly awakened earth.

Under his holy footsteps
bloom bright flowers, a new creation—
Where his robe softly brushes the ground,
an emerald gleam shines in the meadow.
From his hands his blessing flows
over the field and meadow in full, clear streams—
and in the morning dew of the fullness of grace
nature rejoices radiantly in the Risen One
as he walks silently toward his people.

Illustration by Julie Lonnerman.

The Holy Face

Written on December 5, 1937, for the second Sunday of Advent, this poem contemplates the image of Jesus’ face, which reveals both his humanity and his divinity. In reflecting on Jesus’ incarnation, Stein invites her readers to witness and marvel in the mystery and majesty of the God who took on human form.

You who loved
As no one has ever loved,
At the end of your earthly life
You gave us the comfort and consolation
That you longed to be with us until the end of time.

Now you dwell hidden among us.
At all times and in all places,
Comfort, light, and strength
Stream down from your tent into the souls
That seek refuge in your presence.
They look lovingly up to the little host,
The quiet image of purity and peace.

In the hearts of those who love you
The desire to see you in the flesh never fades;
You, the most beautiful of all children
In your human form.
In a never-ending effort, the artistic spirit
Renders image after image:
The child of God in his mother’s arms,
The little boy in the circle of scribes,
The Master teaching amidst his disciples,
The Man of Sorrows on the cross in agony.
But no image of man gives us
You.

The time came, when the power of darkness
Wrenched faith from our hearts,
The embers of love grew cold.
Ever smaller became the faithful flock,
And your dwellings became deserted.
And as of late,
As faith, hope, and love have dwindled,
You unveiled your holy face,
The face of the one who suffered on the cross
And who closed his eyes in the sleep of death.

As if from behind a veil, we witness suffering
In these holy, sublime features.
So great, so beyond measure is this suffering,
That we cannot grasp and comprehend it.
But you suffered in silence,
And a power was in you
That subdued excessive suffering.
You were its Lord when you surrendered yourself to it.
A deep peace
Flows from these features
And speaks:
It is done.

The one you bind to you forever,
You cast the mysterious veil over her:
She suffers your suffering with you
And suffers like you,
Hidden, quietly and deeply at peace.

The Holy Night

This poem, written on December 6, 1937, is dedicated to Edith Stein’s sister, Rosa, in memory of her conversion to Christianity and baptism a year prior, on Christmas Eve 1936. Set in the midst of the Christmas season, with stars twinkling above the church and poinsettias pointing the way to the altar, this poem reflects on the promise of new life offered in Christ, whether at the birth of the baby Jesus or in a person’s turn to faith.

My Lord and God,
You have led me down a long, dark path,
Stony and hard,
Often my strength wanted to fail me,
I had lost all hope of ever seeing the light.
But when in the deepest pain my heart stopped,
A clear, gentle star appeared before me.
It led me faithfully—I followed it,
Tentatively at first, then ever more certain.
Until at last I stood at the gate of a church.
It opened—I asked for entrance.
Out of a priest’s mouth your blessing greets me.
Inside, star after star falls into line.
Red starry flowers show me the way to you.
They await you in the Holy Night.
But your goodness
Lets them light my path to you.
They lead me forward.
The secret that deep in my heart
I once had to hide,
Now I may proclaim boldly:
I believe—I have faith!
The priest leads me up the steps to the altar:
I bow my brow—
Holy water flows over my head.

Is it possible, Lord, to be born again,
When one is already middle-aged?
You said it and it became my reality.
The burden of a long life of guilt and suffering
Fell from me.
Upright I received the white cloak,
Which they laid around my shoulders,
The bright image of purity.
In my hands I carry a candle.
Its flame proclaims
That your holy life burns in me.
My heart has now become a crèche
That awaits your arrival.

Not for long!
Mary, your mother as well as mine,
Has given me her name.
At midnight she lays her newborn child
Upon my breast.

O, the heart cannot comprehend
What you have prepared for those who love you.
Now I have you and I will never leave you.
Wherever the road of my life goes,
You are with me,
Nothing can ever separate me from your love.