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

and courage,—without experience none can comprehend them—let us

humble ourselves, and not condemn them; for, by this seeming

regard to their progress, we hinder our own, and miss the

opportunity our Lord gives us to humble ourselves, to ascertain

our own shortcomings, and learn how much more detached and more

near to God these souls must be than we are, seeing that His

Majesty draws so near to them Himself.

18. I have no other intention here, and I wish to have no other,

than to express my preference for the prayer that in a short time

results in these great effects, which show themselves at once;

for it is impossible they should enable us to leave all things

only to please God, if they were not accompanied with a vehement

love. I would rather have that prayer than that which lasted

many years, but which at the end of the time, as well as at the

beginning, never issued in a resolution to do anything for God,

with the exception of some trifling services, like a grain of

salt, without weight or bulk, and which a bird might carry away

in its mouth. Is it not a serious and mortifying thought that we

are making much of certain services which we render our Lord, but

which are too pitiable to be considered, even if they were many

in number? This is my case, and I am forgetting every moment the

mercies of our Lord. I do not mean that His Majesty will not

make much of them Himself, for He is good; but I wish I made no

account of them myself, or even perceived that I did them, for

they are nothing worth.

19. But, O my Lord, do Thou forgive me, and blame me not, if I

try to console myself a little with the little I do, seeing that

I do not serve Thee at all; for if I rendered Thee any great

services, I should not think of these trifles. Blessed are they

who serve Thee in great deeds; if envying these, and desiring to

do what they do, were of any help to me, I should not be so far

behind them as I am in pleasing Thee; but I am nothing worth, O

my Lord; do Thou make me of some worth, Thou who lovest me

so much.

20. During one of those days, when this monastery, which seems to

have cost me some labour, was fully founded by the arrival of the

Brief from Rome, which empowered us to live without an

endowment; [6] and I was comforting myself at seeing the whole

affair concluded, and thinking of all the trouble I had had, and

giving thanks to our Lord for having been pleased to make some

use of me,—it happened that I began to consider all that we had

gone through. Well, so it was; in every one of my actions, which

I thought were of some service, I traced so many faults and

imperfections, now and then but little courage, very frequently a

want of faith; for until this moment, when I see everything

accomplished, I never absolutely believed; neither, however, on

the other hand, could I doubt what our Lord said to me about the

foundation of this house. I cannot tell how it was; very often

the matter seemed to me, on the one hand, impossible; and, on the

other hand, I could not be in doubt; I mean, I could not believe

that it would not be accomplished. In short, I find that our

Lord Himself, on His part, did all the good that was done, while

I did all the evil. I therefore ceased to think of the matter,

and wished never to be reminded of it again, lest I should do

myself some harm by dwelling on my many faults. Blessed be He

who, when He pleases, draws good out of all my failings! Amen.

21. I say, then, there is danger in counting the years we have

given to prayer; for, granting that there is nothing in it

against humility, it seems to me to imply something like an

appearance of thinking that we have merited, in some degree, by

the service rendered. I do not mean that there is no merit in it

at all, nor that it will not be well rewarded; yet if any

spiritual person thinks, because he has given himself to prayer

for many years, that he deserves any spiritual consolations, I am

sure he will never attain to spiritual perfection. Is it not

enough that a man has merited the protection of God, which keeps

him from committing those sins into which he fell before he began

to pray, but he must also, as they say, sue God for His

own money?

22. This does not seem to me to be deep humility, and yet it may

be that it is; however, I look on it as great boldness, for I,

who have very little humility, have never ventured upon it.

It may be that I never asked for it, because I had never served

Him; perhaps, if I had served Him, I should have been more

importunate than all others with our Lord for my reward.

23. I do not mean that the soul makes no progress in time, or

that God will not reward it, if its prayer has been humble; but I

do mean that we should forget the number of years we have been

praying, because all that we can do is utterly worthless in

comparison with one drop of blood out of those which our Lord

shed for us. And if the more we serve Him, the more we become

His debtors, what is it, then, we are asking for? for, if we pay

one farthing of the debt, He gives us back a thousand ducats.

For the love of God, let us leave these questions alone, for they

belong to Him. Comparisons are always bad, even in earthly

things; what, then, must they be in that, the knowledge of which

God has reserved to Himself? His Majesty showed this clearly

enough, when those who came late and those who came early to His

vineyard received the same wages. [7]

24. I have sat down so often to write, and have been so many days

writing these three leaves,—for, as I have said, [8] I had, and

have still, but few opportunities,—that I forgot what I had

begun with, namely, the following vision. [9]

25. I was in prayer, and saw myself on a wide plain all alone.

Round about me stood a great multitude of all kinds of people,

who hemmed me in on every side; all of them seemed to have

weapons of war in their hands, to hurt me; some had spears,

others swords; some had daggers, and others very long rapiers.

In short, I could not move away in any direction without exposing

myself to the hazard of death, and I was alone, without any one

to take my part. In this my distress of mind, not knowing what

to do, I lifted up my eyes to heaven, and saw Christ, not in

heaven, but high above me in the air, holding out His hand to me,

and there protecting me in such a way that I was no longer afraid

of all that multitude, neither could they, though they wished it,

do me any harm.

26. At first the vision seemed to have no results; but it has

been of the greatest help to me, since I understood what it

meant. Not long afterwards, I saw myself, as it were, exposed to

the like assault, and I saw that the vision represented the

world, because everything in it takes up arms against the poor

soul. We need not speak of those who are not great servants of

our Lord, nor of honours, possessions, and pleasures, with other

things of the same nature; for it is clear that the soul, if it

be not watchful, will find itself caught in a net,—at least, all

these things labour to ensnare it; more than this, so also do

friends and relatives, and—what frightens me most—even good

people. I found myself afterwards so beset on all sides, good

people thinking they were doing good, and I knowing not how to

defend myself, nor what to do.

27. O my God, if I were to say in what way, and in how many ways,

I was tried at that time, even after that trial of which I have

just spoken, what a warning I should be giving to men to hate the

whole world utterly! It was the greatest of all the persecutions

I had to undergo. I saw myself occasionally so hemmed in on

every side, that I could do nothing else but lift up my eyes to

heaven, and cry unto God. [10] I recollected well what I had seen

in the vision, and it helped me greatly not to trust much in any

one, for there is no one that can be relied on except God.

In all my great trials, our Lord—He showed it to me—sent always

some one on His part to hold out his hand to help me, as it was

shown to me in the vision, so that I might attach myself to

nothing, but only please our Lord; and this has been enough to

sustain the little virtue I have in desiring to serve Thee: be

Thou blessed for evermore!

28. On one occasion I was exceedingly disquieted and troubled,

unable to recollect myself, fighting and struggling with my

thoughts, running upon matters which did not relate to

perfection; and, moreover, I did not think I was so detached from

all things as I used to be. When I found myself in this wretched

state, I was afraid that the graces I had received from our Lord

were illusions, and the end was that a great darkness covered my

soul. In this my distress our Lord began to speak to me: He bade

me not to harass myself, but learn, from the consideration of my

misery, what it would be if He withdrew Himself from me, and that

we were never safe while living in the flesh. It was given me to

understand how this fighting and struggling are profitable to us,

because of the reward, and it seemed to me as if our Lord were

sorry for us who live in the world. Moreover, He bade me not to

suppose that He had forgotten me; He would never abandon me, but

it was necessary I should do all that I could myself.

29. Our Lord said all this with great tenderness and sweetness;

He also spoke other most gracious words, which I need not repeat.

His Majesty, further showing His great love for me, said to me

very often: “Thou art Mine, and I am thine.” I am in the habit

of saying myself, and I believe in all sincerity: “What do I care

for myself?—I care only for Thee, O my Lord.”

30. These words of our Lord, and the consolation He gives me,

fill me with the utmost shame, when I remember what I am. I have

said it before, I think, [11] and I still say now and then to my

confessor, that it requires greater courage to receive these

graces than to endure the heaviest trials. When they come, I

forget, as it were, all I have done, and there is nothing before

me but a picture of my wretchedness, and my understanding can

make no reflections; this, also, seems to me at times to

be supernatural.

31. Sometimes I have such a vehement longing