``Where
the Bishop is, there let the multitude of believers be;
even as where Jesus is, there is the Catholic Church'' Ignatius of
Antioch, 1st c. A.D
Feast of St. Teresa of Avila
St. Teresa of
Avila1, the great mystic saint, was
born on March 28, 1515. Her wealthy, wool merchant father, the son of a
Jewish convert of questionable sincerity, was pious and charitable, and
a great lover of books. She
described her mother as good and beautiful but sickly.
She had 2 sisters and 9 brothers, and was especially close to the
brother who was closest to her in age. In her autobiography, she
describes their relationship:
He and I used to
read Lives of Saints together. When I read of martyrdom undergone by
the Saints for the love of God, it struck me that the vision of God was
very cheaply purchased; and I had a great desire to die a martyr's
death,--not out of any love of Him of which I was conscious, but that I
might most quickly attain to the fruition of those great joys of which
I read that they were reserved in Heaven; and I used to discuss with my
brother how we could become martyrs. We settled to go together to the
country of the Moors, begging our way for the love of God, that we
might be there beheaded; and our Lord, I believe, had given us courage
enough, even at so tender an age, if we could have found the means to
proceed; but our greatest difficulty seemed to be our father and mother.
It astonished us greatly to find it said in what we were
reading that pain and bliss were everlasting. We happened very often to
talk about this; and we had a pleasure in repeating frequently, "For
ever, ever, ever." Through the constant uttering of these words, our
Lord was pleased that I should receive an abiding impression of the way
of truth when I was yet a child.
As soon as I saw it was impossible to go to any place where
people would put me to death for the sake of God, my brother and I set about
becoming hermits; and in an orchard belonging to the house we
contrived, as well as we could, to build hermitages, by piling up small
stones one on the other, which fell down immediately; and so it came to
pass that we found no means of accomplishing our wish.
When Teresa was 11, her mother died, and she turned to the Blessed
Virgin for maternal sustenance:
When I began to
understand my loss, I went in my affliction to an image of our Lady,
and with many tears implored her to be my mother. I did this in my
simplicity, and I believe that it was of service to me; for I have by
experience found the royal Virgin help me whenever I recommended myself
to her; and at last she has brought me back to herself.
Still though, as she entered her teen years, she gave in to vanity,
playing up her good looks and spending too much time reading books
about chivalry. She had a number of cousins who were also a bad
influence on her, enticing her to focus on trivialities, gossip, and
pointless amusements. Her father grew fed up with her silly behavior,
and sent her to an Augustinian convent to be educated and disciplined.
At first, she hated it, but after eight days, she grew to love the
nuns. One nun, in particular, had a great effect on her, encouraging
her to focus on holy things, and as this friendship grew, her heart
softened at the idea of becoming a nun herself.
She wasn't totally in love with the idea though -- until she finished
her time at the convent and went to stay with a a dying uncle. Knowing
he was facing judgment, the uncle spoke and read of God, and influenced
Teresa greatly.
Though I
remained here but a few days, yet, through the impression made on my
heart by the words of God both heard and read, and by the good
conversation of my uncle, I came to understand the truth I had heard in
my childhood, that all things are as nothing, the world vanity, and
passing rapidly away. I also began to be afraid that, if I were then to
die, I should go down to hell. Though I could not bend my will to be a
nun, I saw that the religious state was the best and the safest. And
thus, by little and little, I resolved to force myself into it.
The struggle lasted three months. I used to press this reason
against myself: The trials and sufferings of living as a nun cannot be
greater than those of purgatory, and I have well deserved to be in
hell. It is not much to spend the rest of my life as if I were in
purgatory, and then go straight to Heaven--which was what I desired. I
was more influenced by servile fear, I think, than by love, to enter
religion.
She was very, very close to her father, though, and the idea of leaving
him was a great torment to her. It was a torment to him, as well, and
he was against the idea. Still, she entered the Carmelite Convent of
the Incarnation in Avila, and God provided what she needed:
When I took the
habit, our Lord at once made me understand how He helps those who do
violence to themselves in order to serve Him. No one observed this
violence in me; they saw nothing but the greatest good will. At that
moment, because I was entering on that state, I was filled with a joy
so great, that it has never failed me to this day; and God converted
the aridity of my soul into the greatest tenderness. Everything in
religion was a delight unto me; and it is true that now and then I used
to sweep the house during those hours of the day which I had formerly
spent on my amusements and my dress; and, calling to mind that I was
delivered from such follies, I was filled with a new joy that surprised
me, nor could I understand whence it came
After she made her profession, she became horribly ill -- so ill at one
point that her grave was prepared. During this
time, she read many great spiritual works, among them St. Peter of
Alcantara's "Golden Treatise of Mental Prayer" and St. Augustine's
"Confessions" (both of which you can find in this site's Catholic Library). And it was then
that she began intense mental prayer and developed a great devotion to St. Joseph, to whom she attributed her
eventual cure.
The mental prayer for which she is known was rewarded with great
graces, including levitation, ecstasies, and visions -- including being
shown the place in Hell to which she would have been relegated had she
resisted the graces she was being given. The most famous of her
visions, though, is the "Transverberation" -- the piercing of her heart
by Love. She describes it:
Our Lord was
pleased that I should have at times a vision of this kind: I saw an
angel close by me, on my left side, in bodily form. This I am not
accustomed to see, unless very rarely. Though I have visions of angels
frequently, yet I see them only by an intellectual vision, such as I
have spoken of before. It was our Lord's will that in this vision I
should see the angel in this wise. He was not large, but small of
stature, and most beautiful--his face burning, as if he were one of the
highest angels, who seem to be all of fire: they must be those whom we
call cherubim. Their names they never tell me; but I see very well that
there is in heaven so great a difference between one angel and another,
and between these and the others, that I cannot explain it.
I saw in his hand a long spear of gold, and at the iron's
point there seemed to be a little fire. He appeared to me to be
thrusting it at times into my heart, and to pierce my very entrails;
when he drew it out, he seemed to draw them out also, and to leave me
all on fire with a great love of God. The pain was so great, that it
made me moan; and yet so surpassing was the sweetness of this excessive
pain, that I could not wish to be rid of it. The soul is satisfied now
with nothing less than God. The pain is not bodily, but spiritual;
though the body has its share in it, even a large one. It is a
caressing of love so sweet which now takes place between the soul and
God, that I pray God of His goodness to make him experience it who may
think that I am lying.
During the days that this lasted, I went about as if beside
myself. I wished to see, or speak with, no one, but only to cherish my
pain, which was to me a greater bliss than all created things could
give me.
This transverberation was famously depicted by Bernini, with his
sculpture "The Ecstasy of St. Teresa," which can be found in the church
of Santa Maria della Vittoria (Our Lady of Victory) in Rome:
At first, she was troubled by these gifts, thinking they
might be from the Evil One. But she put herself under the guidance of
St. Peter Alcantara, St. Francis Borgia, and a few Dominican and Jesuit
priests, who all helped her with spiritual discernment and who
concluded that these gifts were, indeed, supernatural and not
preternatural in origin.
She wrote of her life and ways of prayer in three works:
"Autobiography," "The Way of Perfection," and "Interior Castle," all of
which you can find in this site's library.2
Her other great work was the reformation of the Carmelite Order.
Finding the convent she'd joined had grown lax in discipline, she
formed her own -- the Discalced Carmelites ("discalced" means
"shoeless"). Dedicating her first convent to St. Joseph, she
established the Convento de San José
in Avila, in 1562, and would go on to
establish convents all over Spain -- 17 in all -- against strong
opposition. St. John
of the Cross would follow her example and open a Discalced community
for Carmelite friars in 1568.
At the age of 67, in 1582, she took ill and died at her convent in Alba
de Tormes. Her last words are said to have been, "My Lord, it is time
to move on. Well then, may your will be done. O my Lord and my Spouse,
the hour that I have longed for has come. It is time to meet one
another." When she died, one of the sisters saw Jesus at the foot of
her bed, attended by many angels. At the head of her bed were martyrs
who had appeared to her in one of her visions and promised to be
present at her death. Another nun saw what looked like a white dove fly
from her mouth, and yet a third nun saw a crowd of people dressed in
white enter her room with joyful, radiant faces.
She was buried there in Alba, and was found to be incorrupt
nine months later. Her heart was removed and is on display; it is said
that the place where it was pierced by the angel is visible to this
day. After some years, her relics were moved to Avila, but she was
later moved back to Alba de Tormes, and that is now where her relics
can be venerated.
After she died, a prayer was found inside her breviary, and it's become
a prayer loved by Catholics and often found on holy cards. It's known
as "St. Teresa's Bookmark" and you should be familiar with it:
Let nothing
disturb thee,
Let nothing frighten thee,
All things are passing;
God never changes.
Patience attains all things.
He who has God lacks nothing.
God alone suffices.
St. Teresa was canonized 40 years after her death, and was made a Doctor of the Church -- "the Doctor
of Prayer" -- in 1970. She is the
patron saint of nuns, Spain, and chess, and can be recognized in art by
her Carmelite habit, a crown of thorns, a dove, or a quill pen.
Graciously hear
us, O God, our Savior, that we rejoice in the festival of blessed
Teresa, Thy Virgin, so we may be fed with the food of her Heavenly
teaching, and grow in loving devotion towards Thee. Through our Lord
Jesus Christ, Thy Son, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee, in the unity
of the Holy Ghost, world without end. Amen.
As to music for this feast, Marc-Antoine Charpentier wrote for St.
Teresa his Pour Ste
Thérèse, "Flores o Gallia" H.374:
In Avila, the entire month of October is spent celebrating St. Teresa.
There are concerts, tournaments, games, expositions, lectures, parades
of the gigantes (giant
figures) and cabezudos
(human-scaled figures with giant heads), dramas, street foods -- you
name it. One of the foods you'll find during the festivities is an egg
yolk-based candy called Yemas de Santa Teresa. A recipe -- along with
one for meringues so you can use up the egg whites that remain:
Yemas de Santa Teresa
1 c. sugar
1/2 c. water
finely grated zest of 1 lemon
juice of 1 lemon, strained
10 egg yolks
granulated sugar (for rolling)
Put the 1 c. sugar and water in a small steel saucepan and
stir. Boil at medium heat until it gets to 220F. Take off the heat and
let it cool completely.
Separately, beat the egg yolks in a second saucepan. Add the
zest and juice and beat til it turns a bit pale. Slowly whisk the syrup
into the yolks a bit at a time. Cook over low heat, slowly stirring
constantly until the mixture thickens and begins to separate from the
sides of the pan (4 or 5 minutes). Take off the heat, place the pan on
a cold surface (over a bowl of ice is best), and stir for a few minutes.
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper and spray with a
cooking oil (or use butter to grease it up). Pour the mixture out in
two ropes onto the sheet and let it cool totally (or put into the
fridge until cold and thick). With oiled or buttered hands, pull
off walnut-sized chunks and roll into 1" balls. Roll the
balls in the sugar and let sit overnight in the fridge. Place in mini
cupcake liners or wrap each individually in little squares of wax paper
and serve with coffee or tea.
Meringues
10 egg whites, room temperature
1 1/4 tsp. cream of tartar
1/2 tsp salt
2 1/2 cup sugar
2 1/2 tsp vanilla*
Heat oven to 225F and line a baking sheet with parchment
paper. In an immaculately clean and dry bowl, mix the egg whites, cream
of tartar, and salt and beat til foamy (use a hand mixer or a stand
mixer). Add the sugar a bit at a time -- a couple of tablespoonsful per
addition -- all while beating at high speed. Beat until glossy and
thick, and keep beating until stiff peaks form. Make sure sugar is all
dissolved (rub some of the mixture between your fingertips; if it still
feels gritty, keep beating). When the whites are at stiff peaks, beat
in the vanilla.* Use a piping bag to pipe 1 1/2"-sized portions onto
the parchment-lined sheets in a pretty shape. Bake for an hour at 225F,
then turn the oven off but keep the oven door closed and leave them in
the oven for an hour or two until cooled down. Store airtight.
*If you want, you can divide the beaten whites in half and
add vanilla to one half, and another flavor to the other half. Be
careful to adjust for the sometimes stronger (or weaker) intensities of
different flavorings.
While the meringues are baking and the candies are cooling, your
children might enjoy playing with little paper nun dolls designed by
Gail Ross. The doll itself looks like St. Teresa, and there are various
different habits from other religious
orders she can be dressed in. For best results, print the doll
itself (page 1) on card stock, and the habits in a lighter paper: Paper Nun Dolls (pdf)
A little aside for information's sake: folks of a certain age will
remember the well-beloved Señor Wences, the lightning-fast
ventriloquist whose full name was Wenceslao Moreno Centeno (his stage
name is pronounced "Wen-thes," with the Castillian TH sound replacing
the CE sound most Anglophones would expect). He had the little
characters that lived inside boxes, or that he made with just his hands
and a tube of lipstick, and is known for the catchphrase, "S'ok?"
"S'ariight!" He was born in Salamanca, a city about 15 miles north of
Alba de Tormes, the city in which St. Teresa died. He was a very devout
Catholic, and a great benefactor of St. Teresa's convent in Alba de
Tormes. Your children might enjoy watching Señor Wences today.
For further reading, see St. Teresa's writings in pdf format in this
site's Catholic Library.
Readings
From "The Liturgical Year"
by Dom Prosper
Gueranger
"Although the Church triumphant in heaven, and the Church mourning here
on earth, appear to be completely separated," says Bossuet on this
feast, "they are nevertheless united by a saored bond. This bond is
charity, which is found in this land of exile as well as in our
heavenly country; which rejoioes the triumphant Saints, and animates
those still militant; which, descending from heaven to earth, and from
Angels to men, causes earth to become a heaven, and men to become
Angels. For, holy Jerusalem, happy Church of the first born whose names
are written in heaven, although the Church thy dear sister, who lives
and combats here below, ventures not to compare herself with thee, she
is not the less assured that a holy love unites her to thee. It is true
that she is seeking, and thou possessest; that she labours, and thou
art at rest; that she hopes, and thou rejoicest. But among all these
differences which separate the two so far asunder, there is this at
least in common: that what the blessed spirits love, the same we
mortals love. Jesus is their life, Jesus is our life; and amid their
songs of rapture, and oar sighs of sorrow, everywhere are heard to
resound these words of the sacred Psalmist: It is good for me to adhere
to my God"
Of this sovereign good of the Church militant and triumphant, Teresa,
in a time of decadence, was commissioned to remind the world, from the
height of Oarmel restored by her to its pristine beauty. After the cold
night of the fourteenth and fifteenth oenturies, the example of her
life possessed a power of irresistible attraction, which survives in
her writings, drawing predestined souls after her in the footsteps of
the Divine Spouse.
It was not, however, by unknown ways, that the Holy Spirit led Teresa;
neither did she, the humble Teresa, make any innovations. Long before,
the Apostle had declared that the Christian's conversation is in
heaven; and we saw, a few daya ago, how the Areopagite formulated the
teaching of the first century. After him we might mention St. Ambrose,
St. Augustine, St. Gregory the Great, St. Gregory Nazianzen, and many
other witnesses from all the churches. It hasbeensaid, and proved far
more ably than we could prove it, that "no state seems to have been
more fully recognized by the Fathers, than that of perfect union, which
is achieved in the highest contemplation; and in reading their
writings, we cannot help remarking the simplicity with which they treat
of it; they seem to think it frequent, and simply look upon it as the
full development of the Christian life."
In this, as in all else, Scholasticism followed the fathers. It
asserted the doctrine concerning these summits of Christian life, even
at a time when the weakness of faith in the people scarcely ever left
full scope to divine oharity, save in the obscurity of a few unknown
cloisters. In its own peculiar form, the teaching of the School was
unfortunately not ttooessible to all; and moreover the abnormal
character of that troubled epoch affected even the mystics that still
remained.
It was then that the Virgin of Avila appeared in the Catholic kingdom.
Wonderfully gifted by grace and by nature, she experienced the
resistances of the latter, as well as the calls of God, and the
purifying delays and progressive triumphs of love ; the Holy Ghost, who
intended her to be a mistress in the Church, led her, if one may so
speak, by the classical way of the favours he reserves for the perfect.
Having arrived at the mountain of God, she described the road by which
she had come, without any pretension but to obey him who commanded her
in the name of the Lord. With exquisite simplicity and unconsciousness
of self, she related the works accomplished for her Spouse; made over
to her daughters the lessons of her own experience; and described the
many mansions of that castle of the human soul, in the centre of which,
he that can reach it will find the holy Trinity residing as in an
anticipated heaven. No more was needed: withdrawn from speculative
abstractions and restored to her sublime simplicity, the Christian
mystic again attracted every mind; light re-awakened love; the virtues
nourished in the Church; and the baneful effects of heresy and its
pretended reform were counteracted.
Doubtless Teresa invited no one to attempt, as presumptuously as
vainly, to force an entrance into the uncommon paths. But if passive
and infused union depends entirely upon God's good pleasure, the union
of effective and active conformity to the divine Will, without which
the other would be an illusion, may be attained with the help of
ordinary grace, by every man of good will. Those who possess it, "have
obtained," says the Saint, "what it was lawful for them to wish for.
This is the union I have all my life desired, and have always asked of
our Lord; it is also the easiest to understand, and the most secure."
She added however: "Beware of that excessive reserve, which oertain
persons have, and which they take for humility. If the king deigned to
grant you a favour, would it be humility to meet him with a refusal?
And when the sovereign Lord of heaven and earth deigns to honour my
soul with his visit, and comes to load me with graces, and to rejoice
with me; should I prove myself humble if I would not answer him, nor
keep him company, nor accept his gifts, but fled from his presence and
left him all alone? A strange sort of humility is that! Look upon Jesus
Christ as a Father, a Brother, a Master, or a Spouse; and treat him in
one or other of these ways; he himself will teach you which is the one
that best pleases him and that it behoves you to choose. And then, be
not so simple as to make no use of it."
But it is said on all sides: "This way is beset with snares: such a
soul was lost in it; such an one went astray; and another, who ceased
not to pray, could not escape a fall... See the inconceivable blindness
of the world. It has no anxiety about those thousands of unfortunate
creatures who, entirely strangers to the path of prayer, live in the
most horrible excess; but if it happens, by a misfortune deplorable no
doubt but very rare, that the tempter's artifices seduce a soul that
prays, they take advantage of this to inspire others with the
greatest terror, and to deter them from the holy practices of virtue.
Is he not the victim of a most fatal error, who believes it necessary
to abstain from doing good in order to avoid doing evil? You must rise
above all these fears. Endeavour to keep your consoienoe always pure;
strengthen yourself in humility; tread under foot all earthly things;
be inflexible in the faith of our mother the holy Church; and doubt
not, after that, that you are on the right road." It is too true that
"when a soul finds not in herself that vigorous faith, and her
transports of devotion do not strengthen her attachment to holy Church,
she is in a way full of perils. The Spirit of God never inspires
anything that is not conformable to holy Scripture; if there were the
slightest divergence, that, of itself alone, would suffice to prove so
evidently the action of the evil spirit, that were the whole world to
assure me it was the divine Spirit, I would never believe it."
But the soul may escape so great a danger by questioning those who can
enlighten her. "Every Christian must, when he is able, seek out a
learned guide ; and the more learned the better. Such a help is still
more necessary to persons given to prayer; and in the highest states,
they have most need of it. I have always felt drawn to men eminent for
doctrine. Some, I grant, may not have experimental knowledge of
spiritual ways; but if they have not an aversion for them, they do not
ignore them; and by the assistance of holy Scripture, of which they
make a constant study, they always recognize the true signs of the good
Spirit. The spirit of darkness has a strange dread of humble and
virtuous science; he knows it will find him out, and thus his
stratagems will turn to his own loss... I, an ignorant and useless
creature, bless thee, Lord, for these faithful servants of thine, who
give us light. I hare no more knowledge than virtue; I write by
snatches, and even then with difficulty; this prevents me from
spinning, and I live in a poor house where I have no lack of
occupations. The mere fact of being a woman and one so imperfect, is
sufficient to make me lay down the pen."
Ah thou wilt, Teresa: deliver thy soul; pass beyond that, and with
Magdalene, at the recollection of what thou callest thine infidelities,
water with thy tears the feet of our Lord, recognise thyself in St.
Augustine's Confessions! Yes; in those former relations with the world,
although approved by obedience; in those conversations, which were
honourable and virtuous: it was a fault in thee, who wast called to
something higher, to withhold from God so many hours which he was
inwardly urging thee to reserve for him alone. And who knows whither
thy soul might have been led, hadst thou continued longer thus to wound
thy Spouse? But we, whose tepidity can see nothing in thy great sins
but what would be perfection in many of us, have a right to appreciate,
as the Church does, both thy life and thy writings; and to pray with
her, on this joyful day of thy feast, that we may be nourished with thy
heavenly doctrine and kindled with thy love of God.
According to the word of the divine Canticle, in order to introduce
Teresa into his most precious stores the Spouse had first to set
charity in order in her soul. Having, therefore, claimed his just and
sovereign rights, he at once restored her to her neighbour, more
devoted and more loving than before. The Seraph's dart did not wither
nor deform her heart. At the highest summit of perfection she was
destined to attain, in the very year of her blessed death, she wrote:
"If you love me much, I love you equally, " I assure you; and I like
you to tell me the same. Oh I how true it is, that our nature inclines
us to wish for return of love! It cannot he wrong, since our Lord
himself exacts a return from us. It is an advantage to resemble him in
something, were it only in this." And elsewhere, speaking of her
endless journeys in the service of her divine Spouse, she says : " It
ocst me the greatest pain when I had to part from my daughters and
sisters. They are detached from everything else in the world, but God
has not given them to be detached from me; he has perhaps done this for
my greater trial, for neither am I detached from them."
No; grace never depreciates nature, which, like itself , is the
Creator's work. It consecrates it, makes it healthy, fortifies it,
harmonizes it; causes the full development of its faoulties to become
the first and most tangible homage, publicly offered by regenerated man
to Christ the Redeemer. Let any one read that literary masterpiece, the
Book of the Foundations, or the innumerable letters written by the
seraphic Mother amid the devouring activity of her life; there he will
see, whether the heroism of faith and of all virtues, whether sanotity
in its highest mystical expression, was ever prejudicial — we will not
say to Teresa's constancy, devotedness, or energy, — but to that
intelligence, whioh nothing could disconcert, swift, lively, and
pleasant; to that even character, which shed its peaceful serenity on
all around; to the delicate solicitude, the moderation, the exquisite
tact, the amiable manners, the practical good sense, of this
contemplative, whose pierced heart beat only by miracle, and whose
motto was: To suffer or to die!
To the benefactor of a projected foundation she wrote: " Do not think,
sir, that you will have to give only what you expect; I warn you of it.
It is nothing to give money; that does not cost us much. But when we
find ourselves on the point of being stoned, you, and your son-in-law,
and as many of us as have to do with this affair, (as it nearly
happened to us at the foundation of St. Joseph's at Avila), Oh! then
will be the good time!" It was on occasion of this same
foundation at Toledo, whioh was in fact very stormy, that the Saint
said: "Teresa and three ducats are nothing; but God, Teresa, and three
ducats, there you have everything."
Teresa had to experience more than mere human privations: there came a
time when God himself seemed to fail her. Like Philip Benizi before
her, and after her Joseph Calasanctius and Alphonsus Liguori, she saw
herself, her daughters, and her sons, condemned and rejected in the
name and by the authority of the Vicar of Christ. It was one of those
occasions, long before prophesied, when it is given to the beast to
make tear with the minte and to overcome them. We have not space to
relate all the sad circumstances; and why should we do so? The old
enemy had then one manner of acting, which he repeated in the
sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, and will always
repeat. In like manner, God has but one aim in permitting the evil, viz
: to lead his chosen ones to that lofty summit of crucifying union,
where he, who willed to be first to taste the bitter dregs of the
chalice, could say more truly and more painfully than any other: My
God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?
The Church thus abridges the life of the reformer of Carmel.
The virgin
Teresa was born at Avila in Spain, of parents illustrious for
nobility and virtue. She was brought up by them in the fear of God; and
while still very young, she gave admirable promise of her future
sanctity. While reading the Acts of the holy martyrs, she was so
enkindled with the fire of the Holy Spirit, that she ran away from
home, resolved to cross over to Africa, and there to lay down her life
for the glory of Jesus Christ and the salvation of souls. She was
brought back by her uncle; but her heart still burned with the desire
of martyrdom, which she endeavoured to satisfy by alms-deeds and other
works of piety, weeping continually to see herself deprived of that
happy lot. On the death of her mother she begged the Blessed Virgin to
be a Mother to her; and she gained her request, for, ever
afterwards the Mother of God cherished her as a daughter.
In the twentieth year of her age she joined the Nuns of St. Mary of
Mount Carmel; and spent
eighteen years in that monastery, enduring severe illnesses
and many trials. While she was thus courageously battling in the ranks
of Christian penance, she was deprived of the support of heavenly
consolations, in which the saints usually abound, even on this earth.
She was adorned with angelic virtues; and her charity made
her solicitous not for her own salvation alone, but for that of
all mankind. Inspired by God, and with the approbation of Pius IV, she
restored the Carmelite rule to its primitlive severity, and caused it
to be thus observed first by the women and then by the men.
The all-powerful blessing of our merciful God was evident in
this work; for, though destitute of ell human aid, and moreover opposed
by many of the great ones of the world, the virgin was able, in her
poverty, to build thirty-two monasteries. She wept continually over the
blindness of infidels and heretics, and offered to God the voluntary
maceration of her body to appease the divine anger, on their behalf.
Her heart burned like a furnace of divine love; so that once she saw an
Angel piercing it with a fiery dart, and heard Christ say to her,
taking her hand in his: Henceforward, as my true bride, thou shall be
zealous for mine honour. By our Lord's advice, she made the exceedingly
difficult vow, always to do what she conceived to be most perfect. She
wrote many works, full of divine wisdom, which arouse in the minds of
the faithful the desire of their heavenly country.
Whereas Teresa was a pattern of every virtae, her desire of
bodily mortification was most ardent; and in spite of the various
maladies which afflicted her, she chastised her body with hairshirts
and iron chains, scourged herself with sharp disciplines or with
bundles of nettles, and sometimes rolled among thorns. She would often
speak thus to God: Lord, let me either suffer or die; for she
considered that as long as she was absent from the fountain of life,
she was dying daily and most miserably. She was remarkable for her gift
of prophecy, and was enriched to such a degree by our Lord with his
divine favours, that she would often beg him to set bounds to his
gifts, and not to blot out the memory of her sins so speedily. Consumed
by the irresistible fire of divine love rather than by disease, after
receiving the last Sacraments, and exhorting her children to peaoe,
charity, and religious observance, she expired at Alba, on the day she
had foretold; and her most pure soul was seen ascending to God in the
form a dove. She died at the age of sixty-seven, in the year 1582, on
the Ides of October according to the corrected Roman Calendar. Jesus
Christ was seen present at her deathbed, surrounded by Angels; and a
withered tree near cell suddenly burst into blossom. Her body has
remained incorrupt to the present day, distilling a fragrant liquor;
and is honoured with pious veneration. She was made illustrious by
miraclee both before and after her death; and Gregory XV enrolled her
among the Saints.
The Beloved, who revealed himself to thee, O Teresa, at death, thou
hadst already found in the sufferings of this life. If anything could
bring thee book to earth, it would be the desire of suffering yet
more. "I am not surprised," says Bossuet speaking in thy honour
on thy feast, "that Jesus willed to die: he owed that sacrifioe to his
Father. But why was it necessary that he should spend his days, and
finally close them, in the midst of such great pains? It is because,
being the Man of sorrows, as the Prophet calls him, he would live only
to endure; or, to express it more forcibly by a beautiful word of
Tertullian's: he wished to be satiated, before dying, with the luxury
of suffering: Saginari voluptate patientiae discessurus volebat." What
a strange expression! One would think, according to this Father, that
the whole life of our Saviour was a banquet, where all the dishes
consisted of torments. A strange banquet in the eyes of men, but which
Jesus found to his taste! Hid death was sufficient for out salvation;
but death was not enough to satisfy his wonderful appetite for
suffering for us. It was needful to add the scourges, and that
blood-stained crown that pierced his head, and all the cruel apparatus
of terrible tortures; and wherefore? Living only to endure, he wished
to be satiated, beore dying, with the luxury of suffering for us. In so
far that upon his Cross, seeing in the eternal decrees that there was
nothing more for him to suffer, 'Ah!' said he, 'it is done, all is
consummated; let us go forth, for there is nothing more to do in this
world'; and immediately he gave up his soul to his Father."
If such is the mind of Jesus our Saviour, must it not also be that of
his bride, Teresa of Jesus? She too wished to suffer or to die; and her
love could not endure that any other cause should retard her death,
save that which deferred the death of our Saviour. Let us warm our
hearts at the sight of this great example. If we are true Christians,
we must desire to do ever with Jesus Christ. Now, where are we to find
this loving Saviour of our souls? In what place may we embrace him? He
is found in two places: in his glory and in his sufferings; on bis
throne and on his cross. We must, then, in order to be with him, either
embrace him on his throne, which death enables us to do; or else share
in his cross, and this we do by suffering ; hence we must either suffer
or die, if we would never be separated from our Lord. Let us suffer
then, O Christians; let us suffer what it pleases God to send us:
afflictions, sicknesses, the miseries of poverty, injuries, calumnies;
let us try to carry, with steadfast courage, that portion of his cross,
with which he is pleased to honour us.
O thou, whom the Churoh proposes to her children as a mistress and
mother in the paths of the spiritual life, teach us this strong and
true Christianity. Perfection, doubtless, cannot be acquired in a day;
and thou didst say: " We should be much to be pitied, if we could not
seek and find God till we were dead to the world. God deliver us from
those extremely spiritual people, who, without examination or
discretion, would refer everything "to perfect contemplation!" But God
deliver us also from those mistaken devotions, which thou didst call
puerile and foolish, and which were so repugnant to the uprightness and
dignity of thy generous soul! Thou desiredst no other prayer, than that
which would make thee grow in virtue. Conviuoe us of the great
principle in these matters, that the prayer best made and most pleasing
to God, is that which leaves behind it the best results, proved by
works; and not those sweetnesses, which end in nothing but our own
satisfaction. He alone will be saved, who has kept the commandments and
fulfilled the law, and heaven, thy heaven, O Teresa, is the reward of
the virtues thou didst practise, not of the revelations and ecstasies
wherewith thou wast favoured.
From the blessed abode where thy love feeds upon infinite happiness, as
it was nourished on earth by sufferings, obtain that thy native Spain
may carefully cherish, in these days of decadence, her beautiful title
of the Catholic Kingdom. Remember the part taken by France in
determining thee to undertake the reform of Carmel. May thy sons be
blessed with increase in members, in merit, and in holiness! In all the
lands where the Holy Ghost has multiplied hy daughters, may their
hallowed homes recall those first dove-cotes of the Blessed Virgin,
where the Spouse delighted to show forth the miracles of his "grace."
To the triumph of the faith, and the support of its defenders, thou
didst direct their prayers and fasts; what an immense field now lies
open to their zeal! With them and with thee, we ask of God two things:
first, that among so many men and so many religious, some may be found
having the necessary qualities for usefully serving the cause of the
Church, on the understanding that one perfect man can render more
services than a great many who are not perfect. Secondly, that in the
conflict our Lord may uphold them with his hand, enabling them to
escape all dangers, and to close their ears to the songs of sirens...
God, have pity on so many perishing souls; stay the course of so many
evils which afflict Christendom; and, without further delay, cause "
thy light to shine in the midst of this darkness!"
Footnotes:
1 "Avila" is pronounced with the accent on
the first syllable -- "AV-ila", not "a-VIL-a"
2 You will likely see, and often, many
quotes attributed to St. Teresa that she never said or wrote. One of
the most famous among these is this poem or some variation thereof:
Christ has no
body but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
Compassion on this world,
Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good,
Yours are the hands, with which he blesses all the world.
Yours are the hands, yours are the feet,
Yours are the eyes, you are his body.
Christ has no body now but yours,
No hands, no feet on earth but yours,
Yours are the eyes with which he looks
compassion on this world.
Christ has no body now on earth but yours.
First of all, Christ does have a body -- glorified in Heaven. Second,
He is also bodily present in the Eucharist at Masses and in tabernacles
all over the world. The words of this poem come from a Methodist
minister.
