Life of St Teresa of Jesus by Teresa of Avila (e ink epub reader TXT) 📕

Lord did not give them the same desire—might live in discontent.

Moreover, I feared that it might be the cause of some

distraction: for I knew some poor monasteries not very

recollected, and I did not consider that their not being

recollected was the cause of their poverty, and that their

poverty was not the cause of their distraction: distraction never

makes people richer, and God never fails those who serve Him.

In short, I was weak in faith; but not so this servant of God.

4. As I took the advice of many in everything, I found scarcely

any one of this opinion—neither my confessor, nor the learned

men to whom I spoke of it. They gave me so many reasons the

other way, that I did not know what to do. But when I saw what

the rule required, and that poverty was the more perfect way, I

could not persuade myself to allow an endowment. And though they

did persuade me now and then that they were right, yet, when I

returned to my prayer, and saw Christ on the cross, so poor and

destitute, I could not bear to be rich, and I implored Him with

tears so to order matters that I might be poor as He was.

5. I found that so many inconveniences resulted from an

endowment, and saw that it was the cause of so much trouble, and

even distraction, that I did nothing but dispute with the

learned. I wrote to that Dominican friar [7] who was helping us,

and he sent back two sheets by way of reply, full of objections

and theology against my plan, telling me that he had thought much

on the subject. I answered that, in order to escape from my

vocation, the vow of poverty I had made, and the perfect

observance of the counsels of Christ, I did not want any theology

to help me, and in this case I should not thank him for his

learning. If I found any one who would help me, it pleased me

much. The lady in whose house I was staying was a great help to

me in this matter. Some at first told me that they agreed with

me; afterwards, when they had considered the matter longer, they

found in it so many inconveniences that they insisted on my

giving it up. I told them that, though they changed their

opinion so quickly, I would abide by the first.

6. At this time, because of my entreaties,—for the lady had

never seen the holy friar, Peter of Alcantara,—it pleased our

Lord to bring him to her house. As he was a great lover of

poverty, and had lived in it for so many years, he knew well the

treasures it contains, and so he was a great help to me; he

charged me on no account whatever to give up my purpose.

Now, having this opinion and sanction,—no one was better able to

give it, because he knew what it was by long experience,—I made

up my mind to seek no further advice.

7. One day, when I was very earnestly commending the matter to

God, our Lord told me that I must by no means give up my purpose

of founding the monastery in poverty; it was His will, and the

will of His Father: He would help me. I was in a trance; and the

effects were such, that I could have no doubt it came from God.

On another occasion, He said to me that endowments bred

confusion, with other things in praise of poverty; and assured me

that whosoever served Him would never be in want of the necessary

means of living: and this want, as I have said, [8] I never

feared myself. Our Lord changed the dispositions also of the

licentiate,—I am speaking of the Dominican friar, [9]—who, as I

said, wrote to me that I should not found the monastery without

an endowment. Now, I was in the greatest joy at hearing this;

and having these opinions in my favour, it seemed to me nothing

less than the possession of all the wealth of the world, when I

had resolved to live in poverty for the love of God.

8. At this time, my Provincial withdrew the order and the

obedience, in virtue of which I was staying in that house. [10]

He left it to me to do as I liked: if I wished to return I might

do so; if I wished to remain I might also do so for a certain

time. But during that time the elections in my monastery [11]

would take place and I was told that many of the nuns wished to

lay on me the burden of superiorship. The very thought of this

alone was a great torment to me; for though I was resolved to

undergo readily any kind of martyrdom for God, I could not

persuade myself at all to accept this; for, putting aside the

great trouble it involved,—because the nuns were so many,—and

other reasons, such as that I never wished for it, nor for any

other office,—on the contrary, had always refused them,—it

seemed to me that my conscience would be in great danger; and so

I praised God that I was not then in my convent. I wrote to my

friends and asked them not to vote for me.

9. When I was rejoicing that I was not in that trouble, our Lord

said to me that I was on no account to keep away; that as I

longed for a cross, there was one ready for me, and that a heavy

one: that I was not to throw it away, but go on with resolution;

He would help me, and I must go at once. I was very much

distressed, and did nothing but weep, because I thought that my

cross was to be the office of prioress; and, as I have just said,

I could not persuade myself that it would be at all good for my

soul—nor could I see any means by which it would be. I told my

confessor of it, and he commanded me to return at once: that to

do so was clearly the most perfect way; and that, because the

heat was very great,—it would be enough if I arrived before the

election,—I might wait a few days, in order that my journey

might do me no harm.

10. But our Lord had ordered it otherwise. I had to go at once,

because the uneasiness I felt was very great; and I was unable to

pray, and thought I was failing in obedience to the commandments

of our Lord, and that as I was happy and contented where I was, I

would not go to meet trouble. All my service of God there was

lip-service: why did I, having the opportunity of living in

greater perfection, neglect it? If I died on the road, let me

die. Besides, my soul was in great straits, and our Lord had

taken from me all sweetness in prayer. In short, I was in such a

state of torment, that I begged the lady to let me go; for my

confessor, when he saw the plight I was in, had already told me

to go, God having moved him as He had moved me. The lady felt my

departure very much, and that was another pain to bear; for it

had cost her much trouble, and diverse importunities of the

Provincial, to have me in her house.

11. I considered it a very great thing for her to have given her

consent, when she felt it so much; but, as she was a person who

feared God exceedingly,—and as I told her, among many other

reasons, that my going away tended greatly to His service, and

held out the hope that I might possibly return,—she gave way,

but with much sorrow. I was now not sorry myself at coming away,

for I knew that it was an act of greater perfection, and for the

service of God. So the pleasure I had in pleasing God took away

the pain of quitting that lady,—whom I saw suffering so

keenly,—and others to whom I owed much, particularly my

confessor of the Society of Jesus, in whom I found all I needed.

But the greater the consolations I lost for our Lord’s sake, the

greater was my joy in losing them. I could not understand it,

for I had a clear consciousness of these two contrary

feelings—pleasure, consolation, and joy in that which weighed

down my soul with sadness. I was joyful and tranquil, and had

opportunities of spending many hours in prayer; and I saw that I

was going to throw myself into a fire; for our Lord had already

told me that I was going to carry a heavy cross,—though I never

thought it would be so heavy as I afterwards found it to be,—yet

I went forth rejoicing. I was distressed because I had not

already begun the fight, since it was our Lord’s will that I

should be in it. Thus His Majesty gave me strength, and

established it in my weakness. [12]

12. As I have just said, I could not understand how this could

be. I thought of this illustration: if I were possessed of a

jewel, or any other thing which gave me great pleasure, and it

came to my knowledge that a person whom I loved more than myself,

and whose satisfaction I preferred to my own, wished to have it,

it would give me great pleasure to deprive myself of it, because

I would give all I possessed to please that person. Now, as the

pleasure of giving pleasure to that person surpasses any pleasure

I have in that jewel myself, I should not be distressed in giving

away that or anything else I loved, nor at the loss of that

pleasure which the possession of it gave me. So now, though I

wished to feel some distress when I saw that those whom I was

leaving felt my going so much, yet, notwithstanding my naturally

grateful disposition,—which, under other circumstances, would

have been enough to have caused me great pain,—at this time,

though I wished to feel it, I could feel none.

13. The delay of another day was so serious a matter in the

affairs of this holy house, that I know not how they would have

been settled if I had waited. Oh, God is great! I am often lost

in wonder when I consider and see the special help which His

Majesty gave me towards the establishment of this little cell of

God,—for such I believe it to be,—the lodging wherein His

Majesty delights; for once, when I was in prayer, He told me that

this house was the paradise of his delight. [13] It seems, then,

that His Majesty has chosen these whom he has drawn hither, among

whom I am living very much ashamed of myself. [14] I could not

have even wished for souls such as they are for the purpose of

this house, where enclosure, poverty, and prayer are so strictly

observed; they submit with so much joy and contentment, that

every one of them thinks herself unworthy of the grace of being

received into it,—some of them particularly; for our Lord has

called them out of the vanity and dissipation of the world, in

which, according to its laws, they might have lived contented.

Our Lord has multiplied their joy, so that they see clearly how

He had given them a hundredfold for the one thing they