Teresa of Ávila
One of the most colorful and beloved of mystics comes from sixteenth century Spain: Teresa of Jesus, who was born in Ávila in 1515. She lived during a time when Spain was a dominant political and military power in Europe (the Spanish Armada’s defeat did not occur until almost six years after Teresa’s death in 1582), but it was a time of tremendous religious anxiety as the Protestant Reformation transformed the continent (Luther’s 95 Theses were published when Teresa was only two years old). So it was the time of the Spanish inquisition, of persecution particularly against Jews and suspected heretics, and of suspicion against anything that could be viewed as flouting ecclesial authority. It hardly seems a congenial time to be a mystic — and yet, Spain at this time was a virtual petrie dish of contemplative activity, for not only did Teresa thrive during this time, but also Ignatius of Loyola (1495-1556), founder of the Jesuits, and Teresa’s own protegé, John of the Cross (1542-1591).
Part of Teresa’s towering genius lies in the fact that she exerted a profound influence not only on the inner life (as a spiritual director and teacher of prayer, particularly to the nuns in her order) but also as an administrator and monastic reformer. Born of a venerable Spanish family, she entered the Carmelite order in 1535 but for most of her youth led what she later criticized as a spiritually lax life. However, a vivid conversion experience at age 40 propelled her toward a life of devout prayer and devotion to her faith, and further ecstatic and mystical experiences kept the fires of her zeal alive. By 1562 she was chafing against the lukewarm culture of her community and so endeavored to establish a new convent where the sisters would lead a more rigorous and devoted life of prayer. Although she faced opposition within the Carmelite order as well as the church at large, the Convent of St. Joseph was founded in Ávila; it was the first of many convents founded by Teresa over the final twenty years of her life.
Teresa never saw herself as a writer; indeed, she thought writing was a frivolous activity when she could be doing more practical things like spinning wool. But her spiritual directors recognized her spiritual genius and also saw in her a gifted ability to teach others about the life of prayer. They directed her to write, and so she did so, as an act of obedience. Her collected writings fill three large volumes, but three of her works are particularly important to students of the contemplative life: her autobiography and two manuals of instruction, The Way of Perfection and The Interior Castle. All are written in her colorful, conversational style, full of digressions and opinionated pronouncements on various aspects of the cloistered life. Readers in the third millennium could find her work difficult for two reasons: her adamant insistence on complete and unquestioning submission to the authority of the church, and her near-constant self-denigration. I think both of these qualities have to be understood with an appreciation of her context; she lived in a time when failure to obey the church could have truly dire consequences, and when laypersons — particularly women — asserting their own spiritual authority by virtue of their mystical experience would have been met with considerable suspicion. By continually putting herself down and insisting on obedience, Teresa was effectively responding to those pressures proactively.
But the point behind reading Teresa today is not so much about understanding church politics of sixteenth-century Spain as about accessing the majesty of her wisdom as a contemplative. Although her writing is anything but systematic, Teresa provides a remarkably complete overview of the contours of spiritual development, emphasizing virtues such as humility and self-forgetfulness, the necessity of balancing outward religious forms (such as reciting memorized prayers like the Our Father) with inner heartfelt devotion, and perhaps most important of all, a clear understanding that the life of prayer involves growth and maturity, and that the more advanced forms of prayer require increasing willingness to let God take the lead in the deepening of the prayer experience. Teresa recognizes that prayer is about relationship, and that we are never alone, nor “in charge” when we pray.
Although Teresa struggled with opposition to her monastic reforms during her lifetime, recognition from the church followed after her death: she was canonized a saint of the Catholic Church in 1622 (a mere forty years after her death) and in 1970 Pope Paul VI declared her a “Doctor of the Church,” meaning that her writings are considered exemplary in their sanctity and exposition of Christian theology. Teresa is one of only three women to receive this honor.
This statue of Teresa, by the seventeenth century Baroque sculptor Giovanni Lorenzo Bernini, is found in the Vatican. The above image of Teresa in stained glass is found at St. Joseph’s Catholic Church, Macon, GA, USA.
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Carl,
I have long held the view (at least since reading Andrew Murray in my early Christian days) that there are certain times in our spiritual walk when certain writers are appropriate for us. We may react with distaste or confusion if whe try to read some of them too early; and we may respond with a kind of patronizing “been there, done that” attitude if we encounter them later than the “fit” time for us. But at the right time, the right authors can nourish our spiritual life powerfully and effectively, leaving us richer and also grateful for their faithfulness in the 2nd-3rd-4th stages of mysticim (according to your definition!).
At this point Teresa with her “contours of spiritual development,,,virtues such as humility and self-forgetfulness, the necessity of balancing outward religious forms with inner heartfelt devotion…clear understanding that the life of prayer involves growth and maturity, and that the more advanced forms of prayer require increasing willingness to let God take the lead in the deepening of the prayer experience…recognition that prayer is about relationship, and that we are never alone, nor ‘in charge’ when we pray,” Teresa (whom I think I have never read) sounds like a great source for me. Thanks for your faithfulness too, Carl, in describing her so clearly to us!
Blessings,
Peter
January 2, 2008 at 1:02 pm
I am curious as to the stages of mysticism, the less I know the better. I do not want that craving of evaluating or one could say taking their spiritual temperature ever again. That sneaky ego always popping up saying “well done”. I am terrified of taking pride in what is “all God” and his work in me. I know myself and how quickly I can slide right down the chute, having done it several times. I know the majesty of God and what he has to do with us still baffles me. The only reason we have dignity is because he deigns to look upon us. I offer him my sins now and revel in the beauty he is creating. He is glory itself. Judy
February 15, 2008 at 1:39 am
Judith, your comments are so insightful that I’m going to respond to them in my main blog. You can view my thoughts here.
February 15, 2008 at 7:57 am
Carl:
In reading Teresa of Avila, I found myself suspicious of her repeated acknowledgment of the superiority of her spiritual advisors and deference to their judgment in editing her works. My belief is that her constant reminders of her obedience and submissiveness were a sort of “disclaimer”. It came across to me as a very clever, deliberate technique to flatter her institutional superiors so much that they unquestioningly published her works as she wrote them. She must have known her own spiritual superiority, although she would not have liked to claim it, but I believe for a woman in that time to be published in her own voice, she devised a clever way of defeating the censor through flattery and apparent submission. A woman who travelled around Spain at that time to found convents, could not have been someone to submit easily, and I doubt she was completely sincere in those statements.
Further, it reminded me of the revelations of Julian of Norwich who, although not as sophisticated as Teresa, realized that the benevolent loving God who was revealing Himself ( or Herself) to her was at odds with the vengeful, controlling and severe God of the age. She was direct about the difficulty of reconciling the Inner Truth with the outer dogma. I believe Teresa was being subtle in dealing with this difficulty.
The mystical experience is not limited by doctrine, and leading people down that path can lead them away from the strictures of institutional religion, to a different and more powerful awareness of the unknowableness and limitlessness of the Divine. In my traditional Christian up bringing, we were never expected or encouraged to have an inner experience of God, just to do and believe what we were told. But a true inner experience of the divine, in whatever form, provides its own authority and a sense of certainty that is unrelated to church, synagogue, mosque, temple, etc. Undoubtedly Teresa realized the potential problem – those finding a direct relationship with God may rely less on the institution of the church, its ministers and its teachings, and may become more spiritually independent. Such an outcome can be a threat to institutional religion. In a time when the Spanish church feared that its newly-converted members were secretly practicing their old faiths, the kind of spiritual independence that can be gained through the mystical experience, especially as taught by such a powerful mystic, was potentially explosive.
May 17, 2008 at 7:43 pm
Kavya:
Maybe, but most likely she was honest and humble woman, and what she wrote was true from her heart. Maybe she really belived that her superiors spoke the voice of Christ in earth.
This fits not only with her words but also fits with a clear pristine soul required to walk with such authority and security on the deeps realms of spirituality.
This requirement does not hold for your hypothesis though, since mocking, flattering and manipulating the boss just to achieve a personal agenda is exactly what you really get rid off before leaving the second mansion, which certainly she did.
The direct relation with God should not create a problem in your relation with the church, as Teresa spoke, since with the same principle, church bishops and the pope are the voice of Christ in earth, but most important, the church administer the SACRAMENTS, the adoration of the holy sacrament, so central in Teresa and John of the Cross mysticism. But, yes, as you mention Teresa , and John of the Cross, were frightened by the possibility of get lost in the path.
July 28, 2008 at 9:22 am
I have found “Embracing God: Praying with Teresa of Avila” by Dwight Judy an excellent open door into Teresa of Avila’s work that was easily entered.
March 16, 2010 at 8:08 pm
Dear Carl,
I am reading Teresa of Avila’s “Spiritual Testimonies” and I wonder if you know any way I could find a picture of the statue of Mary that St. Teresa references…one in St. Joseph’s church in Avila. St. Teresa says it bears a good resemblance to the vision of Mary which she had. Thank you.
November 12, 2011 at 12:45 pm
Sorry, I don’t know if the statue still exists, let alone if there is an image available. Does anyone reading this know?
November 12, 2011 at 1:23 pm