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

me—and even

those in the community—said that they seemed to them extreme;

and, indeed, compared with what I had been accustomed to do, they

were extreme: people, therefore, had reason to say so. Yet, in

those things which were of obligation, considering the habit I

wore, and the profession I had made, I was still deficient.

By resisting the sweetness and joys which God sent me, I gained

this, that His Majesty taught me Himself; for, previously, I used

to think that, in order to obtain sweetness in prayer, it was

necessary for me to hide myself in secret places, and so I

scarcely dared to stir. Afterwards, I saw how little that was to

the purpose; for the more I tried to distract myself, the more

our Lord poured over me that sweetness and joy which seemed to me

to be flowing around me, so that I could not in any way escape

from it: and so it was. I was so careful about this resistance,

that it was a pain to me. But our Lord was more careful to show

His mercies, and during those two months to reveal Himself more

than before, so that I might the better comprehend that it was no

longer in my power to resist Him.

2. I began with a renewed love of the most Sacred Humanity; my

prayer began to be solid, like a house, the foundations of which

are strong; and I was inclined to practise greater penance,

having been negligent in this matter hitherto because of my great

infirmities. The holy man who heard my confession told me that

certain penances would not hurt me, and that God perhaps sent me

so much sickness because I did no penance; His Majesty would

therefore impose it Himself. He ordered me to practise certain

acts of mortification not very pleasant for me. [1] I did so,

because I felt that our Lord was enjoining it all, and giving him

grace to command me in such a way as to make me obedient

unto him.

3. My soul was now sensitive to every offence I committed against

God, however slight it might be; so much so, that if I had any

superfluity about me, I could not recollect myself in prayer till

I had got rid of it. I prayed earnestly that our Lord would hold

me by the hand, and not suffer me to fall again, now that I was

under the direction of His servants. I thought that would be a

great evil, and that they would lose their credit through me.

4. At this time, Father Francis, who was Duke of Gandia, [2] came

here; he had left all he possessed some years before, and had

entered the Society of Jesus. My confessor, and the nobleman of

whom I spoke before, [3] contrived that he should visit me, in

order that I might speak to him, and give him an account of my

way of prayer; for they knew him to be greatly favoured and

comforted of God: he had given up much, and was rewarded for it

even in this life. When he had heard me, he said to me that it

was the work of the Spirit of God, [4] and that he thought it was

not right now to prolong that resistance; that hitherto it had

been safe enough,—only, I should always begin my prayer by

meditating on some part of the Passion and that if our Lord

should then raise up my spirit, I should make no resistance, but

suffer His Majesty to raise it upwards, I myself not seeking it.

He gave both medicine and advice, as one who had made great

progress himself; for experience is very important in these

matters. He said that further resistance would be a mistake.

I was exceedingly consoled; so, too, was the nobleman, who

rejoiced greatly when he was told that it was the work of God.

He always helped me and gave me advice according to his

power,—and that power was great.

5. At this time, they changed my confessor’s residence. I felt

it very much, for I thought I should go back to my wickedness,

and that it was not possible to find another such as he. My soul

was, as it were, in a desert, most sorrowful and afraid. I knew

not what to do with myself. One of my kinswomen contrived to get

me into her house, and I contrived at once to find another

confessor, [5] in the Society of Jesus. It pleased our Lord that

I should commence a friendship with a noble lady, [6] a widow,

much given to prayer, who had much to do with the fathers.

She made her own confessor [7] hear me, and I remained in her

house some days. She lived near, and I delighted in the many

conferences I had with the fathers; for merely by observing the

holiness of their way of life, I felt that my soul

profited exceedingly.

6. This father began by putting me in the way of greater

perfection. He used to say to me, that I ought to leave nothing

undone that I might be wholly pleasing unto God. He was,

however, very prudent and very gentle at the same time; for my

soul was not at all strong, but rather very weak, especially as

to giving up certain friendships, though I did not offend God by

them: there was much natural affection in them, and I thought it

would be an act of ingratitude if I broke them off. And so, as I

did not offend God, I asked him if I must be ungrateful. He told

me to lay the matter before God for a few days, and recite the

hymn, “Veni, Creator,” that God might enlighten me as to the

better course. One day, having prayed for some time, and

implored our Lord to help me to please Him in all things, I began

the hymn; and as I was saying it, I fell into a trance—so

suddenly, that I was, as it were, carried out of myself. I could

have no doubt about it, for it was most plain.

7. This was the first time that our Lord bestowed on me the grace

of ecstasy. I heard these words: “I will not have thee converse

with men, but with angels.” This made me wonder very much; for

the commotion of my spirit was great, and these words were

uttered in the very depth of my soul. They made me

afraid,—though, on the other hand, they gave me great comfort,

which, when I had lost the fear,—caused, I believe, by the

strangeness of the visitation,—remained with me.

8. Those words have been fulfilled; for I have never been able to

form friendship with, nor have any comfort in, nor any particular

love for, any persons whatever except those who, as I believe,

love God, and who strive to serve Him. It has not been in my

power to do it. It is nothing to me that they are my kindred, or

my friends, if I do not know them to be lovers of God, or persons

given to prayer. It is to me a painful cross to converse with

any one. This is the truth, so far as I can judge. [8]

From that day forth, I have had courage so great as to leave all

things for God, who in one moment—and it seems to me but a

moment—was pleased to change His servant into another person.

Accordingly, there was no necessity for laying further commands

upon me in this matter. When my confessor saw how much I clung

to these friendships, he did not venture to bid me distinctly to

give them up. He must have waited till our Lord did the work—as

He did Himself. Nor did I think myself that I could succeed; for

I had tried before, and the pain it gave me was so great that I

abandoned the attempt, on the ground that there was nothing

unseemly in those attachments. Now our Lord set me at liberty,

and gave me strength also to use it.

9. So I told my confessor of it, and gave up everything,

according to his advice. It did a great deal of good to those

with whom I used to converse, to see my determination. God be

blessed for ever! Who in one moment set me free, while I had been

for many years making many efforts, and had never succeeded, very

often also doing such violence to myself as injured my health;

but, as it was done by Him Who is almighty, and the true Lord of

all, it gave me no pain whatever.

1. The Saint now treated her body with extreme severity,

disciplining herself even unto blood (Reforma, vol. i. lib. i. c.

xx. § 4).

2. St. Francis de Borja came to Avila, where St. Teresa lived, in

1557 (De la Fuente). This passage must have been written after

the foundation of St. Joseph, for it was not in the first Life,

as the Saint says, ch. x. § 11, that he kept secret the names of

herself and all others.

3. Ch. xxiii. § 6.

4. See Relation, viii. § 6.

5. Who he was is not certainly known. The Bollandists decline to

give an opinion: but F. Bouix thinks it was F. Ferdinand Alvarez,

who became her confessor on the removal of F. Juan de Padranos,

and that it was to him she confessed till she placed herself

under the direction of F. Baltasar Alvarez, the confessor of Doña

Guiomar, as it is stated in the next paragraph,—unless the

confessor there mentioned was F. Ferdinand.

6. Doña Guiomar de Ulloa. See below, ch. xxxii. § 13.

7. If this confessor was F. Baltasar Alvarez, the Saint, F. Bouix

observes, passes rapidly over the history of the year 1557, and

the greater part, perhaps, of 1558; for F. Baltasar was ordained

priest only in the latter year.

8. See Relation, i. § 6.

Chapter XXV.

Divine Locutions. Discussions on That Subject.

1. It will be as well, I think, to explain these locutions of

God, and to describe what the soul feels when it receives them,

in order that you, my father, may understand the matter; for ever

since that time of which I am speaking, when our Lord granted me

that grace, it has been an ordinary occurrence until now, as will

appear by what I have yet to say. [1]

2. The words are very distinctly formed; but by the bodily ear

they are not heard. They are, however, much more clearly

understood than they would be if they were heard by the ear.

It is impossible not to understand them, whatever resistance we

may offer. When we wish not to hear anything in this world, we

can stop our ears, or give attention to something else: so that,

even if we do hear, at least we can refuse to understand.

In this locution of God addressed to the soul there is no escape,

for in spite of ourselves we must listen; and the understanding

must apply itself so thoroughly to the comprehension of that

which God wills we should hear, that it is nothing to the purpose

whether we will it or not; for it is His will, Who can do all

things. We should understand that His will must be done; and He

reveals Himself as our true Lord, having dominion over us.

I know this by much experience; for my resistance lasted nearly

two years, [2] because of the great fear I was in: and even now I

resist occasionally; but it is