Anne Hunt OAM FACE, Emeritus Professor
of Australian Catholic University
This is the text of the fourth Carmelite
Library Lecture for 2015, delivered by Anne Hunt on the eve of the Feast of
Saint Teresa of Avila. The lecture brought to a formal close our year of
celebrations for the 500th anniversary of Teresa’s birth in 1515.
Teresa, in the book of her life which
she wrote at the request of one of her spiritual advisors, tells us of a
remarkable event that she experienced in Lent 1554 when she was 29 years old
and which had a profound effect on her.
She
writes: “It happened to me that one day entering the oratory I saw a statue
they had borrowed for a certain feast to be celebrated in the house. It represented
the much wounded Christ and was very devotional so that beholding it I was
utterly distressed in seeing Him that way, for it well represented what He
suffered for us. I felt so keenly aware of how poorly I thanked Him for
those wounds that, it seems to me, my heart broke. Beseeching Him to
strengthen me once and for all that I might not offend Him, I threw myself down
before Him with the greatest outpouring of tears." (Book of Her Life 9, 1)
In the National Gallery of Victoria on
St Kilda Road in Melbourne there is a beautiful example of the kind of statue
that Teresa saw that day in the convent of the Incarnation and which always
reminds me of Teresa. It is entitled The
Derision of Christ (see http://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/explore/collection/work/104424/).
This monumental near life-sized
sculpture, dated to the 1450s, depicts Jesus Christ in an episode prior to his execution by crucifixion,
when he is being mocked by
Pilate’s soldiers in regard to the claim that he was ‘King of the Jews’; hence the title of the work, The Derision of Christ. Christ has been
stripped to a loin cloth and flogged. His shoulders have been draped with a
red robe, his
wrists bound with cord (now missing), a crown of thorns (now missing) placed on his head and a palm frond placed in his hand to stand
between his knees as if a
sceptre (now missing), all in mockery of the title ‘King’. There is no
mistaking his suffering. His
body is clearly emaciated.
The figure is sculpted from a large piece of oak by an
unknown artist, and painted in rich polychrome paint. The carving is
skilful; see the face, the hair, the ribs and pectorals, the cloak. The figure is hollowed out at the
back, in order to minimise the risk of the wood splitting and also to lighten
it for carrying during processions. This scupture probably sat in a niche in a
church. Holes in the back indicate that it
was designed to be taken on public procession especially during Easter week when
the passion of Christ – his suffering and death – would be reenacted in
processions, passion plays and religious rituals.
What is astonishing is that he faces his tormentors
calmly, silently and with great dignity, indeed majesty. The expression on his
face is one of mercy and compassion.
The sculpture is designed to create an atmosphere of
reverence and deep compassion, and to foster an appreciation of Christ’s
suffering for the salvation of the human race. Indeed that was precisely its
effect on Teresa. Beholding
the statue that day was a life-changing and defining experience for her. Christ’s
humanity, and Christ’s suffering, would lie very much at the heart of her faith,
prayer, and teaching ever after. Therein is the source and ongoing inspiration for
her core insights into her understanding of prayer and of our relationship with
God.
In
this talk, I am going to focus on those insights and their application for our
lives. I will leave this image on the screen for your contemplation. On the
handout you have some of my favourite, and, at least for me, most
thought-provoking quotations from Teresa. Really, my talk this evening is built
on and around her words and her counsel. It is her words that I want you to
hear this evening.
A
brief outline of her life and the challenging times in which Teresa lived
Most
of you would know, at least in broad details, the story of her life, but allow
me to summarise them briefly.
Her birth in 1515 in Avila in Spain.
Her childhood - her mother died when she
was 14 years old.
She was a Christian of Jewish descent.
Her grandfather was a Toledan cloth
merchant, and a converso (a convert to Catholicism) from Judaism. As such, he
was marginal to society. He suffered gross humiliation and dishonour at the
hands of the Inquisition when, accused of judaising, he was forced by
Inquisitorial authorities to submit to an auto-da-fe
and, in punishment, to wear the humiliating sanbenito
(a penitential scapulary garment) for seven Fridays in public penance for his
offence. The shame of this event, together with the prevailing preoccupation
with notions of honour and status in Spanish society at that time, had an enormous
impact on her understanding of community life as a community of equals.
Her entry into religious life at the
convent of the Incarnation at 20 years of age.
That momentous religious conversion experience
(mentioned above) in 1554.
Her experience of remarkable mystical graces
or favours – especially the experience of transverberation in 1559 when the
angel plunged the dart into her heart (famously portrayed in Bernini’s
sculpture in Rome; see http://www.britannica.com/topic/The-Ecstasy-of-Saint-Teresa).
But note that Teresa writes: “Well do I
understand that sanctity does not lie in
these favours” (Foundations 4,8)
Her profound consciousness of God’s
presence to her in her life.
Her work of reform of the Carmelites, including
her foundation of seventeen Carmels, including two for men (and, as far as I
know, she is still the only woman who founded an order for religious men).
Her struggle with chronic ill-health for
most of her life; although physically fragile she was psychically strong,
however.
Her death in 1582 (4/15 October) – at
the time of the introduction of the Gregorian calendar (which included a ten
day adjustment).
Her writings, written for her sisters, which
are highly and widely esteemed as religious classics: Book of Her Life, The Way of Perfection (a book of advice and
counsels, a pedagogical work), The Interior Castle (her mature teaching; the
most doctrinal), Foundations (concerning the establishment of the reformed
order), and Spiritual Testimonies (about sixty
short reflections on various topics, which I particularly love).
Her voluminous correspondence, of which
about 500 letters have come down to us, many of them very inspiring.
The rich imagery she invokes in
describing the life of prayer and our relationship with God (hedgehog,
silkworm, garden, and, of course, the castle).
My
talk’s title this evening comes from Teresa herself, from the very last section
of her work, Interior Castle, where
she herself counsels her readers not to be building castles in the air. I will
return to that point later.
Teresa
was not a learned woman. She was not scholastically trained. She could read and
write Spanish. She read Augustine’s Confessions. She was biblically literate.
She knew the Sacred Scriptures through the liturgy (as vernacular translation of
the Scriptures was forbidden) at this time. She had not learned from books as
such. When vernacular books were taken away by the Inquisition, she came to
recognise Christ as the living book.
What
is very clear from her writings and from those who knew her is that she was a
vibrant and vivacious personality, a shrewd and enterprising business woman, a skilful
administrator, an astute reader of people, with a great gift for friendship and
community. She was also a loyal and faithful daughter of the Church. There was
never a question of anything but loyalty and perseverance.
She
lived in very challenging times:
The Inquisition (begun in 12th
century) in Spain was particularly harsh and punitive. It exercised almost unlimited
power and was a cause of great fear. It was a source of pressure on Teresa. (As
previously mentioned, her grandfather had suffered greatly at its hands.)
Teresa had to contend with virtually constant suspicion and surveillance (from
within and without). She had to be as wise as serpents, as innocent as doves
(Mt 10:16).
The Protestant Reformation: Martin Luther
had famously nailed his 95 theses concerning abuses of the Church in doctrine
and practice to the church door in Wittenberg in 1517. Christianity was shaken
to its very roots and torn asunder. Teresa was particularly distressed by the
destruction of images of Christ and of the saints as Protestantism swept across
Europe. She had a keen respect for the imagination and for the profitable use of
religious imagery to foster devotion.
The Council of Trent (1545-63) was the
Catholic Church’s response to the Protestant Reformation.
The Aristotelian view
that women were a mistake of nature, an aberration, and that they were guided
by passion rather than intellect prevailed among scholastic theologians of the
time.
She
speaks about God and life from her actual experience. Teresa’s relationship with God was real, deep
and practical.
At
the core of those insights are those regarding prayer: how to pray, when and
what to pray, what is prayer. (Not that she teaches a method of prayer as such,
but rather the forms of prayer).
Let
us now attend to some of the insights and advice which Teresa offers in regard
to prayer. Later we will look at some practical ramifications of her teaching for
our lives as Christians in our time and place.
Teresa
on prayer
For
Teresa, prayer is quite a simple and straightforward matter.
With
exquisite simplicity she writes: “For mental prayer in my opinion
is nothing else than an intimate sharing
between friends. It means taking time frequently to be alone with
Him who we know loves us. In order that love be true and the friendship
endure, the wills of the friends must be
in accord” (Book of Her Life 8,5,
with my italics).
So
notice, it is
An intimate sharing
Between friends
Taking time
Frequently
Alone with him
Who we know loves us
The
will is in accord – and this is of paramount importance. As we grow in realisation
of God’s immense love for us, we grow in authentic self-knowledge – the
knowledge that we are treasured and loved, albeit all undeserved, for we are so
unworthy and sinful. We grow and are conformed closer and closer in accord with
God’s will.
“Thy will be done,” as we pray in the
Our Father. She had great love for the Our Father. “Thy will be done.” Always
and in everything. Be it in our prayers of petition, be it in our suffering,
even in our death. She writes of her
longing to die and to see God face to face: "I am consoled to hear the
clock strike, for at the passing away of that hour of life, it seems to me I am
drawing a little closer to the vision of God" (Book of Her Life 40, 20). But, greater than this, of far greater
importance than this, is doing God’s will. Like St Paul she writes of wanting
to die but, most of all, of wanting God’s will. So she writes: “This surrender
to the will of God is so powerful that the soul wants neither death nor life,
unless for a short time when it longs to die to see God . . . there remains the
desire to live, if He wills, in order to serve Him more” (Spiritual Testimonies 40). And God’s will is always the life of
practical love of neighbour and charity in community.
But notice also her comment: Who we know loves us: At the very
bedrock of Teresa’s consciousness and insights is the dazzling mystery of God’s
immeasurable love for us, not just us collectively, but for her (and you and
me) personally, intimately, deeply, unqualifiedly.
She has an abiding profound awareness of
the boundless love of God for us, that we are to know and know deeply and utterly
surely that we are loved, immeasurably, and that, as such, we are fundamentally good!
She urges us also to remember that God’s
immense love for us does not depend on
our earning it. All is gift; all is grace. Hence, she speaks with utter
confidence that “we are
to speak with Him as with a father or a brother or a Lord or as with a spouse”
(Way of Perfection 28, 3). To pray,
then, is to converse with one who we know
loves us.
A
note on terminology:
Teresa
distinguishes between mental (or
interior) prayer and what she calls vocal
prayer, in other words, set prayers and devotions (i.e., using authorised
words and devotional forms).
By
mental prayer, she means that personal intimate sharing by friends. It is unscripted.
It is not so much talking to (or at) and/or saying things to but being with. She
wants our prayer to be “not with lips alone,” but our whole selves, our very
selves. She writes: “A prayer in which a person is not aware of whom is
speaking to, what he is asking, who it is who is asking and of whom, I do not
call prayer no matter how much the lips move” (Interior Castle 1, 1, 7). Keep in mind that at this time in the
Church, mental prayer was highly suspect and actively discouraged. Moreover
women’s spiritual capacities were disparaged.
Teresa
was so attuned to God that she could find God easily, even among the pots and
pans (and she was by no means above cooking and washing up and cleaning). She
understands that there is no place where God cannot be found.
Teresa
would have us understand that God is not “somewhere else” but rather that God
is always already there”. St Augustine’s writings and insights resonated with
her own insights.
For
her, it is just as St. Augustine (in Confessions)
prayed, “You were inside, but I was outside. You were with me, but I was not
with you.” Here lies her insight that our soul is like an interior castle. She
suggests that “we consider our soul to be like a castle made entirely out of a
diamond or of very clear crystal, in which there are many rooms, just as in
heaven there are many dwelling places” (Interior
Castle 1, 1). God is there, within, in his immeasurable love, there at the
centre. What we thought was the
periphery, outside of us, is in fact at the centre, indeed more interior to us
than we are to ourselves.
She
assures us: “Once you get used to enjoying this castle, you will find rest in
all things, even those involving much labour, for you will have the hope of
returning to the castle which no one can take from you” (Interior Castle VII, Epilogue, 2). Most vitally of all: “the door
of entry to this castle is prayer” (Interior
Castle II, 1, 11).
Hence
her advice, her strong advice, at the very end of Interior Castle: “We shouldn’t build castles in the air” (Interior Castle VII, 4, 15). Firstly, we
shouldn’t be building castles in the air;
but we shouldn’t be building castles at
all. The castle is within; it is there; God is there; it is for us to
enter; the door of entry is prayer.
So,
like St Augustine, she urges us to recognise that God is not exterior to us,
but within us, ever inviting us to enter, to enter the castle, and to enter
into ever deeper relationship with God.
So,
the journey is a journey within. And there is no disjunction between the
interior and exterior, but rather a heightened integration. Similarly there is
no disjunction between the active and the contemplative aspects of our lives. It
is this heightened integration, this heightened consciousness, that shines so
brightly in Teresa, that she exemplifies so strongly, and to which she calls
us! She reminds us: “The soul is capable of much more than we can imagine” (Interior Castle 1, 2, 8).
Most
important, above all, is prayer, for “the door of entry to this castle is
prayer” (Interior Castle II, 1, 11). Hence,
Teresa has much advice to offer in terms of prayer:
Being
alone with him
She
tells her sisters that “to get used to solitude is a great help for prayer” (Way of Perfection 4, 9). She stresses:
“I’m not asking you to do anything more than look at Him” (Way of Perfection 26, 3).
She
had an abiding sense of Jesus ever present at her side (Book of Her Life 27, 2). She writes: “A much greater love for and confidence
in this Lord began to develop in me when I saw Him as one with whom I could
converse so continually. I saw that He was
man, even though He was God; that He wasn’t surprised by human weaknesses;
that He understands our miserable make-up,
subject to many falls on account of the first sin, which He came to repair. I
can speak with Him as with a friend, even
though He is Lord’ (Book of Her Life
37, 5, my italics).
She
assures us, especially in times of suffering in our lives: “Whoever lives in
the presence of so good a friend and excellent a leader who went ahead of us to
be the first to suffer, can endure all things. The Lord helps us and never
fails; He is a true friend” (Book of Her Life
22, 6).
She repeatedly
stressed the importance of focussing on Jesus’ humanity. “I see clearly, and I saw afterward, that God
desires that if we are going to please Him and receive His great favours, we
must do so through the most sacred humanity of Christ in whom He takes His
delight. Many, many times have I perceived this truth through experience” (Book of Her Life 22, 6).
She
discovered that, if she concentrated her attention on those scenes in Christ’s
life when he was alone and in need, she could habitually recollect herself.
Indeed she favoured being alone with him in those moments when Christ is alone.
She found
comfort especially in the passion, and particularly the garden scene of
Gethsemane where Jesus was so very alone and afflicted. There she strove to be
His companion, a person in need, so that He had to accept her. She explains: “It
seemed to me that being alone and afflicted, as a person in need, He had to
accept me. I had simple thoughts like these” (Book of Her Life 9, 4).
Her
approach to prayer is one of recollection, a gentle drawing inward of the
faculties, a withdrawal from exterior things into the inner spiritual, and of
presence, of being fully present to God and opening ourselves to God’s presence
to us. It is recollection because, as Teresa explains, “the
soul collects its faculties together and enters within itself to be with its
God” (Way of Perfection 28, 4). It “is
not a silence of the faculties; it is an enclosure of the faculties in the
soul” (Way of Perfection 29, 4). She compares
this to “a hedgehog curling up or a turtle drawing into its shell” (Interior Castle IV, 3, 3).
Attitudes
and virtues
Teresa
has much to say about cultivating attitudes and virtues that support – indeed
are vital – to one’s prayer and relationship with God
Humility
Teresa
places great emphasis on humility. Humility is key to the self-knowledge that
is vital to authentic prayer, that deep sharing with the Lord. Teresa
understands that authentic self-knowledge only comes in relation to our
knowledge of God. Teresa writes: “It is a shame and unfortunate that through
our own fault we don’t understand ourselves or who we are. . . . Because we have heard and because faith
tells us so, we know we have souls. But we seldom consider the precious things
that can be found in this soul, or who dwells within it, or its high value” (Interior Castle 1, 1, 2).
Indeed Teresa really wants to know
herself as God knows her, because she realises that God loves her far more than
she could ever love herself. This is just as true for all of us.
Teresa
recognises that authentic self-knowledge is possible only in the light of God’s great love for us. In other words, for
Teresa, humility is grounded in the true knowledge of ourselves that is
revealed to us in the light of God’s immense love for us. There, in the light
of God’s love, we see ourselves, as Teresa saw herself, as loved and treasured
and, at the same time, as sinful, unworthy, as a miserable wretch or worm, as
Teresa occasionally speaks of herself.
There is no question of Teresa wallowing
in self-contempt or self-pity, but rather of recognising and accepting a very
realistic assessment of one’s sinfulness and frailty, and at the same time knowing
one is loved, that one’s sins and offences are forgiven. She writes: “Once
while I was experiencing great distress over having offended God, He said to
me: ‘All your sins are before me as though they were not; in the future make
every effort, for your trials are not over’” (Spiritual Testimonies 63). With God’s words, “All your sins are before me
– as though they were not,” is a great sense of the forgiveness of our sins.
With this
self-knowledge, only possible with the realisation of God’s immense love for us,
we go into prayer as our authentic selves, warts and all, as we truly are, with
no pretensions or pretences. Only then can we actually pray as friend to
friend, with that intimate
sharing that can only occur between true friends.
But
humility is key. She often exhorts her sisters: “strive always for humility.” (Way of Perfection 38, 4). She writes: “The
truly humble person always walks in doubt about his own virtues” (Way of Perfection 38, 9). She explains
that “a great deal of humility. . . is an important aspect of prayer and
indispensable for all persons who practise it” (Way of Perfection 17, 1). She warns: “Without it [humility]
everything goes wrong” (Interior Castle I,
2, 8).
For
Teresa, humility is also important as a corrective to society’s misguided pre-occupation
with honour and esteem (so strong a feature of society in Teresa’s time), but, even
more importantly, as a means of detachment from the world (to things, to false
goals, to our self-centred desires etc.) and attachment to God. She would have
her sisters understand what she herself had learnt through her experience:
“This is true humility: to know what you can do and what I [God] can do” (Spiritual Testimonies 24).
Humility
comes to bear in very practical ways, in our prayers of petition, for example.
She writes: “we don’t know what we are asking for. Let us leave it to the Lord,
for He knows us better than we do ourselves. And true humility is content with
what is received]” (Way of Perfection
18, 6).
Teresa
urges us to the practice of three habits in particular (charity, detachment and
humility): “The first of these is love for one another; the second is
detachment from all created things; the third is true humility, which, even
though I speak of it last, is the main practice and embraces all the others” (Way of Perfection 4, 4). Humility is
paramount; the others are impossible without it.
But
there are some other attitudes and virtues about which Teresa teaches.
Gratitude
and joy
An
attitude of gratitude follows from the virtue of humility. She offers an
example from her own experience: “One day while I was anxiously desiring to
help the order, the Lord told me: ‘Do what lies in your power; surrender
yourself to me, and do not be disturbed about everything; rejoice in the good
that has been given you, for it is very great; my Father takes His delight in
you, and the Holy Spirit loves you’” (Spiritual
Testimonies 10).
Indeed the Holy Spirit came to
figure large in her prayer life. At one time, when she had been struggling with prayer, she sought
the advice of a Jesuit priest who advised her to pray to the Holy Spirit. Saint Paul in his letter to the
Romans stresses the same point: “In the same way, the Spirit too comes to the aid
of our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but the Spirit
itself intercedes with inexpressible groanings.” (Letter to the Romans 8:26). Teresa was profoundly
affected by this experience. Indeed, she would come to a deep insight into the
mystery of the Trinity. And more than insight, her prayer life would culminate in
profound communion with the Trinity.
On suffering
Teresa
recognises that there is no avoiding the question, and the mystery, of
suffering in our lives. She writes: “Suffering is the way of truth” (Spiritual Testimonies 32).
She
had a deep sense of the paschal mystery of our lives, the passage through
suffering and death to new life, the mystery of suffering, whereby the pain
points in our lives are the growth points, the points of new life and
development.
She herself suffered ill-health greatly
throughout her life. But she recognised that poor health was no obstacle to
spiritual growth, indeed, that it enhances it. She understood that, through it,
we learn patience, trust, surrender, hope. It prepares us to receive, makes us
ready to receive. It is as if, in our suffering, God hollows us out. But Teresa
is no masochist. We are not to seek out suffering. It will come in its own way
and time. She calls us to be sensible and to care for our bodies and our health.
Teresa learnt
much about the mystery of the Cross through her being with Christ in his
suffering. She wrote: “If you are experiencing trials or are sad, behold Him on
the way to the garden: what great affliction He bore in His soul; for having
become suffering itself, He tells us about it and complains of it. Or behold
Him bound to the column, filled with pain, with all His flesh torn in pieces
for the great love He bears you; so much suffering, persecuted by some, spit on
by others, denied by His friends, abandoned by them, with no one to defend Him,
frozen from the cold, left so alone that you can console each other. Or behold
Him burdened with the cross, for they didn’t even let Him take a breath. He
will look at you with those eyes so beautiful and compassionate, filled with
tears; He will forget His sorrows so as to console you in yours, merely because
you yourselves go to Him to be consoled, and you turn your head to look at Him”
(Way of Perfection 26, 5).
Like all
the saints, she personally deeply knows, and teaches us, the mystery of
suffering; that suffering, and ultimately death, lies mysteriously at the core
of our lives as followers of Christ. Here, she calls on the image of the
silkworm: Just as the silkworm builds a cocoon, buries itself within it, and in
due course emerges as a beautiful butterfly, so does the soul bury itself in
Christ (Interior Castle V, II). The
cocoon is Christ, within whom the soul dies, thus becoming conformed to Christ
by dying with Christ. She urges us: “Let it die; let this silkworm die, as it
does in completing what it was created to do! And you will see how we see God,
as well as ourselves placed inside His greatness, as is this little silkworm
within its cocoon” (Interior Castle
V, 2, 6). The goal is to make us Christ-like. Just as the silkworm dies in the
cocoon, so the soul dies with and in Christ and is conformed to Christ. Christ
is the cocoon within which the silkworm-soul dies. Then, when the silkworm is
truly dead to the world, the butterfly emerges. So too the soul is transformed,
having been placed, through this prayer, within the greatness of God. Later,
there is a second death, when the butterfly dies into the mystery of union with
Christ, permanently united to Christ (Interior
Castle VII, 3). It is in and through this union with Christ that the soul
enters into the mystery of the Trinity.
Some
striking features of Teresa’s prayer
One
can’t but be struck by a few striking features of her prayer, which we can learn
from her with great profit. There is a sense of awe, of a holy fear, of God in
Teresa’s prayer. She will lovingly - but in awe - call him His Majesty. She
will often refer to his immense majesty. Plus, as its corollary, she will speak
of her own sense of unworthiness, referring several times to herself as a miserable
worm. It is, once again, that self-knowledge that is securely grounded in truth
and in love. But, as we noted before, this is not self-deprecation, it is no
grovelling self-denigration.
At
the same time, she speaks with astonishing directness and there is a palpable
freedom and joy – a holy freedom and with it a holy joy - in her relationship
with God that flows over into all of her relationships. Indeed, she writes:
“This is what we must strive for earnestly, to be affable, agreeable, and
pleasing to persons with whom we deal” (Way
of Perfection 41, 7).
Some
very practical advice
Teresa
never fails to bring a very practical and balanced common sense to whatever issue
is at hand. She suggests some helpful aids to prayer: spiritual reading (from
which she herself profited greatly), reading the Scriptures, and religious art.
She had a strong visual aesthetic sensibility and prized images of Christ.
Indeed, she advised against renouncing anything that awakens love (Spiritual Testimonies 26).
Teresa
offers some very sensible advice about prayer and tiredness. “The time of
prayer should be shortened, however delightful the prayer may be, when it is
seen that the bodily energies are failing or that the head might suffer harm.
Discretion is very necessary in all” (Way
of Perfection 19, 13).
She
knows well our human condition and frailties. She counsels us: “Be patient, for
as long as you live, a wandering mind cannot be avoided” (Spiritual Testimonies 39).
Teresa
speaks tenderly of the God’s accommodation to our capacities and limitations:
“since He loves us He adapts Himself to its [the soul’s] size,” enlarging it
little by little until it has the capacity to receive what he will place within
it (Way of Perfection 28, 11-12).
Let
us also be mindful that she would have us recognise that not all are called to
follow the same path. “There are different paths along which God leads souls” (Way of Perfection 6, 5). As she
explains, “God doesn’t lead all by the same path” (Way of Perfection 17, 2; 24, 1).
She has great devotion and reverence for
the Eucharist. “Be with Him willingly; don’t lose so good an occasion for
conversing with Him as is the hour after having received Communion” (Way of Perfection 34, 10).
But, basically, the major mistake in
prayer is not to show up! She assures us that God will come. She urges us: Just
turn up (i.e. in prayer). Strike out. Pray, wait, and persevere. God will come.
Some
cautionary notes
Teresa
also offers some cautionary notes. She is in no doubt and advises her sisters
that “prayer and comfortable living are incompatible” (Way of Perfection 4, 2).
She
counsels her sisters (and all of us) not to be looking for extraordinary experiences
and mystical phenomena, not to
bother about the ecstasies or extraordinary graces; but rather to sweep the
corridors and wash the dishes, to do what needs to be done and can be done in
whatever situation we find ourselves!
She
is deeply wary of pride and of false notions of honour. She never fails to
express a very practical and balanced common sense. She is very clear: Prayer is
not for the sake of enjoyment but for the strength to serve. Action and contemplation
go hand in hand, just as our interior and exterior lives go hand in hand, all
in service of God’s will. (Indeed, Teresa understands that the integration of
action and contemplation is rather like the union of the human and divine in the
one person of Christ Jesus.)
In case
all of her reflections and teaching on prayer might overwhelm us, she counsels
us: “Do not be frightened by the many things you need to consider in order to
begin this divine journey which is the royal road to heaven” (Way of Perfection 21, 1). Again, the
mistake in prayer - is not to show up. So, strike out. Pray, wait, and persevere.
She insists: “The important thing is not to think much but to love much” (Interior Castle IV, 1, 7). The end of prayer, she reiterates, is creative and
active: it is “good works, good works” (Interior
Castle 7, 4, 6). She
never fails to remind her sisters, “the Lord asks of us only two things: love
of His Majesty and love of our neighbour” (Interior
Castle V, 3, 7). Indeed, she warns them, “if we fail in love of neighbour
we are lost” (Interior Castle V, 3,
12).
Teresa is in utterly no doubt. Prayer
has very practical ramifications. It affects the way we live our lives and relate
to other people. Let us turn now to this aspect of Teresa’s insights and the
learnings for us that are to be mined there.
There
are no divided loyalties in Teresa’s insights and application – between serving
God and one’s neighbours; contemplation and action; the interior and exterior
life; spiritual life and the practicalities of administration (as she demonstrated
so well). She writes: “Martha and Mary walk together” (Way of Perfection 31, 5). Similarly there are no divided loyalties
between Christ and Church; each of them go hand in hand, fully integrated.
She urges us not to be looking for
spiritual favours or mystical graces or to be focussed on or pre-occupied with
the different stages of prayer that she articulates and our assessment of our
‘progress’. She reminds us: “Perfection as well as its reward does not consist
in spiritual delights but in greater love and in deeds done with greater
justice and love” (Interior Castle 3,
2, 10). In another place she writes, again adverting to the importance of doing
God’s will: “I heard the words: ‘While one is alive, progress doesn’t come from
trying to enjoy Me more but trying to do My will’” (Spiritual Testimonies 15).
Indeed,
she urges her readers, “the more advanced you are in the love for your
neighbour the more advanced you will be in the love of God (Interior Castle V, 3, 8). Notice the
reversal here. Here in fact is the measure of one’s progress in prayer, Teresa
tells us: it is love of neighbour! If you want to know how you are progressing
in your prayer life, ask how you are progressing with love of your neighbour
(and Teresa means the neighbour right beside you, the people with whom you live
and work, those in your immediate vicinity)!
Heroics
are not what is asked of us, she assures us: “The Lord doesn’t look so much at
the greatness of our works as at the love with which they are done. And if we
do what we can, His Majesty will enable us each day to do more and more,
provided that we do not quickly tire” (Interior
Castle VII, 4, 15).
Conclusion
There
is no Spiritual elitism in Teresa. Her writings and teachings are for all of us.
In effect, she calls us to be active contemplatives. And that is essentially -
and simply - a matter of awareness, with Teresa herself our model. In other
words, she does not call us to radical changes to our life circumstances and
heroic feats of prayer, but to very deliberate and conscious attentiveness to
the presence of God in our lives, in our very souls, an attentiveness as to
one’s beloved, one’s very nearest and dearest friend. With that awareness
comes conformity with God’s will, seeing
the world and everything and situation in it as God sees it, loving and caring
for our neighbours as God loves them, so becoming more Christ-like. In many
ways it is quite simple and straightforward.
What
better way to conclude than with her words: “In sum, my sisters [and brothers],
what I concluded with is that we shouldn’t build castles in the air” (Interior Castle VII, 4, 15). The castle
is within; the living God is within you, within the castle that is your soul; and
prayer is the door of entry: “all one need do is go into solitude and look at
Him within oneself, and not turn away from so good a Guest but with great
humility speak to him as father” (Way of Perfection
28, 2). Be patient, and persevere.
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