Life of St Teresa of Jesus, Teresa of Avila [top ten books to read TXT] 📗

therein

all the rest of my life, though the pain be so very great, that I

can scarcely endure it. Sometimes my pulse ceases, as it were,

to beat at all,—so the sisters say, who sometimes approach me,

and who now understand the matter better,—my bones are racked,

and my hands become so rigid, that I cannot always join them.

Even on the following day I have a pain in my wrists, and over my

whole body, as if my bones were out of joint. [16] Well, I think

sometimes, if it continues as at present, that it will end, in

the good pleasure of our Lord, by putting an end to my life; for

the pain seems to me sharp enough to cause death; only, I do not

deserve it.

17. All my anxiety at these times is that I should die: I do not

think of purgatory, nor of the great sins I have committed, and

by which I have deserved hell. I forget everything in my

eagerness to see God; and this abandonment and loneliness seem

preferable to any company in the world. If anything can be a

consolation in this state, it is to speak to one who has passed

through this trial, seeing that, though the soul may complain of

it, no one seems disposed to believe in it.

18. The soul is tormented also because the pain has increased so

much, that it seeks solitude no longer, as it did before, nor

companionship, unless it be that of those to whom it may make its

complaint. It is now like a person, who, having a rope around

his neck, and being strangled, tries to breathe. This desire of

companionship seems to me to proceed from our weakness; for, as

pain brings with it the risk of death,—which it certainly does;

for I have been occasionally in danger of death, in my great

sickness and infirmities, as I have said before, [17] and I think

I may say that this pain is as great as any,—so the desire not

to be parted, which possesses soul and body, is that which raises

the cry for succour in order to breathe, and by speaking of it,

by complaining, and distracting itself, causes the soul to seek

means of living very much against the will of the spirit, or the

higher part of the soul, which would not wish to be delivered

from this pain.

19. I am not sure that I am correct in what I say, nor do I know

how to express myself, but to the best of my knowledge it comes

to pass in this way. See, my father, what rest I can have in

this life, now that what I once had in prayer and

loneliness—therein our Lord used to comfort me—has become in

general a torment of this kind; while, at the same time, it is so

full of sweetness, that the soul, discerning its inestimable

worth, prefers it to all those consolations which it formerly

had. It seems also to be a safer state, because it is the way of

the cross; and involves, in my opinion, a joy of exceeding worth,

because the state of the body in it is only pain. It is the soul

that suffers and exults alone in that joy and contentment which

suffering supplies.

20. I know not how this can be, but so it is; it comes from the

hand of our Lord, and, as I said before, [18] is not anything

that I have acquired myself, because it is exceedingly

supernatural, and I think I would not barter it for all the

graces of which I shall speak further on: I do not say for all of

them together, but for any one of them separately. And it must

not be forgotten that, as I have just said, these impetuosities

came upon me after I had received those graces from our Lord [19]

which I am speaking of now, and all those described in this book,

and it is in this state our Lord keeps me at this moment. [20]

21. In the beginning I was afraid—it happens to me to be almost

always so when our Lord leads me by a new way, until His Majesty

reassures me as I proceed—and so our Lord bade me not to fear,

but to esteem this grace more than all the others He had given

me; for the soul was purified by this pain—burnished, or refined

as gold in the crucible, so that it might be the better enamelled

with His gifts, and the dross burnt away in this life, which

would have to be burnt away in purgatory.

22. I understood perfectly that this pain was a great grace; but

I was much more certain of it now and my confessor tells me I did

well. And though I was afraid, because I was so wicked, I never

could believe it was anything wrong: on the other hand, the

exceeding greatness of the blessing made me afraid, when I called

to mind how little I had deserved it. Blessed be our Lord, who

is so good! Amen.

23. I have, it seems, wandered from my subject; for I began by

speaking of raptures, and that of which I have been speaking is

even more than a rapture, and the effects of it are what I have

described. Now let us return to raptures, and speak of their

ordinary characteristics. I have to say that, when the rapture

was over, my body seemed frequently to be buoyant, as if all

weight had departed from it; so much so, that now and then I

scarcely knew that my feet touched the ground. But during the

rapture itself the body is very often as if it were dead,

perfectly powerless. It continues in the position it was in when

the rapture came upon it—if sitting, sitting; if the hands were

open, or if they were shut, they will remain open or shut. [21]

For though the senses fail but rarely, it has happened to me

occasionally to lose them wholly—seldom, however, and then only

for a short time. But in general they are in disorder; and

though they have no power whatever to deal with outward things,

there remains the power of hearing and seeing; but it is as if

the things heard and seen were at a great distance, far away.

24. I do not say that the soul sees and hears when the rapture is

at the highest,—I mean by at the highest, when the faculties are

lost, because profoundly united with God,—for then it neither

sees, nor hears, nor perceives, as I believe; but, as I said of

the previous prayer of union, [22] this utter transformation of

the soul in God continues only for an instant; yet while it

continues no faculty of the soul is aware of it, or knows what is

passing there. Nor can it be understood while we are living on

the earth—at least, God will not have us understand it, because

we must be incapable of understanding it. I know it

by experience.

25. You, my father, will ask me: How comes it, then, that a

rapture occasionally lasts so many hours? What has often

happened to me is this,—I spoke of it before, when writing of

the previous state of prayer, [23]—the rapture is not

continuous, the soul is frequently absorbed, or, to speak more

correctly, our Lord absorbs it in Himself; and when He has held

it thus for a moment, the will alone remains in union with Him.

The movements of the two other faculties seem to me to be like

those of the needle of sun-dials, which is never at rest; yet

when the Sun of Justice will have it so, He can hold it still.

26. This I speak of lasts but a moment; yet, as the impulse and

the upraising of the spirit were vehement, and though the other

faculties bestir themselves again, the will continues absorbed,

and causes this operation in the body, as if it were the absolute

mistress; for now that the two other faculties are restless, and

attempt to disturb it, it takes care—for if it is to have

enemies, the fewer the better—that the senses also shall not

trouble it: and thus it comes to pass that the senses are

suspended; for so our Lord wills it. And for the most part the

eyes are closed, though we may not wish to close them; and if

occasionally they remain open, as I said just now, the soul

neither discerns nor considers what it sees.

27. What the body then can do here is still less in order that,

when the faculties come together again, there may not be so much

to do. Let him, therefore, to whom our Lord has granted this

grace, be not discouraged when he finds himself in this

state—the body under constraint for many hours, the

understanding and the memory occasionally astray. The truth is

that, in general, they are inebriated with the praises of God, or

with searching to comprehend or understand that which has passed

over them. And yet even for this they are not thoroughly awake,

but are rather like one who has slept long, and dreamed, and is

hardly yet awake.

28. I dwell so long on this point because I know that there are

persons now, even in this place, [24] to whom our Lord is

granting these graces; and if their directors have had no

experience in the matter, they will think, perhaps, that they

must be as dead persons during the trance—and they will think so

the more if they have no learning. It is piteous to see what

those confessors who do not understand this make people suffer.

I shall speak of it by and by. [25] Perhaps I do not know what I

am saying. You, my father, will understand it, if I am at all

correct; for our Lord has admitted you to the experience of it:

yet, because that experience is not very great, it may be,

perhaps, that you have not considered the matter so much as I

have done.

29. So then, though I do all I can, my body has no strength to

move for some time; the soul took it all away. Very often, too,

he who was before sickly and full of pain remains healthy, and

even stronger; for it is something great that is given to the

soul in rapture; and sometimes, as I have said already, [26] our

Lord will have the body rejoice, because it is obedient in that

which the soul requires of it. When we recover our

consciousness, the faculties may remain, if the rapture has been

deep, for a day or two, and even for three days, so absorbed, or

as if stunned,—so much so, as to be in appearance no

longer themselves.

30. Here comes the pain of returning to this life; here it is the

wings of the soul grew, to enable it to fly so high: the weak

feathers are fallen off. Now the standard of Christ is raised up

aloft, which seems to be nothing else but the going up, or the

carrying up, of the Captain of the fort to the highest tower of

it, there to raise up the standard of God. The soul, as in a

place of safety, looks down on those below; it fears no dangers

now—yea, rather, it courts them, as one assured beforehand of

victory. It sees most clearly how lightly are the things of this

world to be esteemed, and the nothingness thereof. The soul now

seeks not, and possesses not, any other will but that of