Life of St Teresa of Jesus - Teresa of Avila (classic books for 11 year olds TXT) 📗
- Author: Teresa of Avila
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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
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