susidlcWORLD
Back to index

Saint Teresa of Ávila / Las Moradas

Fourth Dwelling.
Chapter 3.

About this chapter

Teresa describes a recollection in which God gently draws the soul towards Himself. She encourages receiving it without forcing the mind and recognising its fruits in greater inner freedom, trust, and readiness to serve, while also caring for one’s health.

Editorial summary from the website; it is not part of Saint Teresa’s text.

Adapted: an editorial English translation of the website’s Spanish adaptation. Original: Saint Teresa’s Spanish text (1577), preserved without translation.

Adapted text

Fourth Dwelling

Chapter 3 | Adapted text

The effects of this prayer are many. I will mention some, and first I will speak of another form of prayer that almost always begins before this one. Since I have spoken of it elsewhere, I will say little.

It is a recollection that also seems supernatural to me, because it does not consist in being in darkness, or closing one's eyes, or anything outward. Although, without intending it, one does close one's eyes and wish to be alone. And without forcing it, it seems that the building is being prepared for the prayer I have already described; for the senses and outward things gradually lose their hold, so that the soul begins to recover the command she had lost.

People say that ‘the soul enters into herself,’ and at other times that ‘she rises above herself.’ I would not know how to explain much in that language, because I have this fault: I think that if I say it as I understand it, you will understand me too, when perhaps I am the only one who understands myself.

Let us imagine that these senses and faculties, which I have already said are like the inhabitants of this castle, have gone outside and have spent days and years among strangers who are enemies of the castle's well-being. But seeing their ruin, they have begun to come back toward it, though they have not quite entered yet, because habit has great power. They are no longer traitors, but they still linger around it.

Then the great King, who is in the dwelling within this castle, sees their goodwill and, in His great mercy, wishes to bring them back to Himself. Like a good shepherd, with a whistle so gentle that they themselves can scarcely make it out, He makes them recognize His voice and cease wandering so far astray, returning instead to their dwelling. And this shepherd's whistle has such power that they leave the outward things that were distracting them and enter the castle.

I think I have never explained it as clearly as I have now. When God grants this grace, it is a great help in seeking Him within, where He is found more readily and with greater benefit than among created things, as Saint Augustine says he found Him after searching in many places.

Do not think this happens through the understanding, by trying to think of God within oneself, or through the imagination, by picturing Him inside oneself. That is good and is an excellent form of meditation, because it rests on a truth: that God is within us. But it is not what I am speaking of, because anyone can pursue that with the Lord's help.

What I mean happens in another way. Sometimes, before one begins to think of God, these inhabitants are already inside the castle, and I do not know where or how they heard their shepherd's whistle. It was not through their ears, for nothing is heard; but one clearly feels a gentle recollection inward, as anyone who experiences it will see, because I cannot explain it any better.

I think I have read that it is like a hedgehog or a tortoise drawing inward, and whoever wrote that must have understood it well. But they draw inward when they wish; here it does not depend on our will, but on when God wishes to grant us this grace.

I believe that when His Majesty grants it, He gives it to people who are already loosening their hold on worldly things. I do not mean that they necessarily do so in their actions, because some people's state of life does not allow it, but in their desire, for God calls them in a particular way to attend to inward things. And so I believe that if we wish to make room for His Majesty, He will give more than this to those He begins to call to something greater.

Anyone who recognizes this experience in herself should praise God greatly, for it is only right that she understand the grace she has received. And thanking Him for that grace will prepare her to receive greater ones.

This also prepares the soul to listen, as some books advise: not to try to reason too much, but to remain attentive to see what the Lord is doing in her. For if His Majesty has not begun to recollect us and draw us into Himself, I do not see how we could force thought to be still without doing more harm than good.

Although this matter has been much debated among some spiritual people, I confess my lack of humility: they have never given me a reason that persuades me to yield to what they say. Someone cited a certain book by the holy Friar Peter of Alcántara, whom I do believe to be a saint, and to him I would have yielded, because I know he understood these things. We read it, and it says the same as I do, though not in these same words. But what he says makes it clear that love must already have been awakened.

I may be mistaken, but I offer these reasons:

The first: in this work of the spirit, the less one thinks and the less one tries to do on one's own, the more one does. What we should do is ask like poor people in need before a great and wealthy emperor; then lower our eyes and wait humbly.

When, through His secret ways, we seem to understand that He hears us, then it is fitting to be silent, for He has allowed us to be near Him. And it will do no harm to try to keep the understanding from working so hard, if we can.

But if we do not yet understand that this King has heard us or is looking at us, we should not remain there like fools. For the soul becomes rather like that when she tries to do this, and the imagination can become much drier, and perhaps more restless, because of the effort made to think of nothing. Instead, the Lord wants us to ask Him and to consider that we are in His presence, because He knows what is good for us.

I cannot persuade myself to use human methods in matters to which His Majesty seems to have set a limit and which He has chosen to reserve for Himself. By contrast, He has left us many other things that we can do with His help, such as penances, works, and prayer, as far as our frailty allows.

The second: all these inward workings are gentle and peaceful, and doing something forced or burdensome does more harm than good.

By burdensome I mean the force we try to exert upon ourselves, just as trying to hold our breath would be burdensome. What is fitting is to leave the soul in God's hands, so that He may do with her as He wishes, forgetting our own advantage as much as possible and surrendering as fully as possible to God's will.

The third: the very effort to think of nothing may stir thought into action and make it think much more.

The fourth: what matters most and is most pleasing to God is that we remember His honor and glory and forget ourselves, our own advantage, our consolation, and our pleasure.

How, then, can someone be forgetful of herself when she is so intent on not moving or becoming distracted that she does not even allow her understanding and desires to turn toward God, to desire His greater glory or rejoice in the glory He already has?

When His Majesty wishes the understanding to stop, He Himself occupies it in another way. He gives it a light and knowledge so far above anything we can attain that the understanding is absorbed. Then, without knowing how, it is taught far better than through all our human efforts, which can sometimes get in the way instead.

For God gave us the faculties of the soul so that we might work with them, and that work has its reward. So we should not force them into sleep or stillness, but let them do their work until God leads them to a higher one.

As I understand it, when the Lord has chosen to bring the soul into this dwelling, what she should chiefly do is what I have already said: try, without force or commotion, to restrain the understanding's excessive reasoning a little; but not try to suspend it altogether or force herself to think of nothing.

Instead, the soul should remember that she is before God, and who this God is. If what she feels within gently recollects her toward Him, that is well; let it happen. But she should not try to understand what is taking place, because this is not given to the understanding to analyze, but to the will to enjoy. Let her allow the will to enjoy it, without seeking methods or making efforts, beyond a few loving words. For although we do not try here to think of nothing, that often happens of itself, even if only for a very short time.

But, as I said elsewhere, something particular happens in this kind of prayer. I mean the prayer with which I began this dwelling, although I have also brought in the prayer of recollection here, which I ought to have explained first. This prayer of recollection is much less than the delights of God I have described, but it is a beginning that leads to them. In the prayer of recollection, one should not abandon meditation or the work of the understanding.

In this spring that flows directly, and not through channels, the understanding stops of itself, or God makes it stop, because it sees that it cannot understand what it wishes to understand. Then it becomes as though bewildered: it moves from one idea to another, unable to settle on any.

Meanwhile, the will is so steadfast and so occupied with her God that the understanding's restlessness causes her great annoyance. For that reason she need not pay attention to it, because if she does, she will lose much of what she is enjoying. It is best to leave the understanding alone and abandon herself to the arms of love. His Majesty will teach her what she should do at that moment, which is almost always to acknowledge herself unworthy of so great a blessing and devote herself to giving Him thanks.

In speaking of the prayer of recollection, I left until later the effects or signs that remain in souls to whom God our Lord gives this prayer.

One of these signs is a clearly noticeable inward expansion of the soul. It is as though the water flowing from a spring did not run outward, but the spring itself were so made that the more water flowed, the larger the structure containing it became.

Something like this seems to happen in this prayer, and in many other wonders God works in the soul: He gradually increases her capacity and prepares her to receive all that He wishes to give her.

This gentleness and inward expansion become apparent afterward in the fact that the soul is no longer so constrained or limited as before in the things of God's service, but has much greater inward freedom.

Thus the soul no longer feels so constrained by the fear of hell. Although she retains a greater fear of offending God, servile fear, the fear that arises only from punishment, is lost here. In its place remains a great confidence that she will come to enjoy God.

Before, when she thought of doing penance, she might fear losing her health. Now she feels that she will be able to do all things in God, and has a greater desire to do penance than before.

The fear she used to have of hardships and suffering also begins to lessen, because her faith is more alive. The soul understands that if she undergoes them for God, His Majesty will give her grace to bear them patiently. And sometimes she even desires them, because there also remains in her a strong wish to do something for God.

As she comes to know God's greatness more, she regards herself as more wretched. And since she has already tasted the delights of God, she sees worldly pleasures as rubbish. So she gradually draws away from them and has greater mastery of herself in doing so.

In the end, she is improved in all the virtues and will continue to grow, provided she does not turn back by offending God. For then everything is lost, however high the soul may have risen.

Nor should it be understood that because God grants this grace to a soul once or twice, all these things are already accomplished in her. It is necessary to persevere in receiving these graces, because all our good lies in that perseverance.

I strongly warn anyone who finds herself in this state of one thing: take great care not to place yourself in situations where you may offend God. For here the soul is not yet strong or fully formed, but like a child who is only beginning to feed. And if that child is taken from its mother's breast, what can be expected but that it will die?

That is why I greatly fear that something similar may happen to a person whom God has granted this grace if she gives up prayer. Unless there is a very serious reason, or she returns to it soon, she will go from bad to worse.

I know there is much to fear in this. I know some people who have caused me great sorrow, and I have seen what I describe happen, because they drew away from Him who so lovingly wished to give Himself to them as a friend, and showed it to them in His deeds.

That is why I warn so strongly against placing oneself in occasions of sin. For the devil makes a much greater effort over one of these souls than over many others to whom the Lord has not given these graces. The reason is that these souls can greatly frustrate the devil's plans by helping others draw near to God, and can also do much good in the Church.

And even if there were no other reason, the mere sight of His Majesty showing them a particular love is enough to make the devil do all he can to bring about their ruin. That is why they are so fiercely attacked; and if they are lost, they often become more lost than others.

You, sisters, are free from these dangers, at least as far as we can understand. May God preserve you from pride and vainglory.

And if the devil should wish to imitate these graces falsely, it will be recognized because he will not produce these effects, but their very opposite.

There is one danger I want to warn you about, although I have already mentioned it elsewhere. I have seen people devoted to prayer fall into it, especially women, because, being more delicate by nature, what I am about to describe can happen more easily.

Some people have a weak constitution because of much penance, prayer, and keeping vigil, or even without these things. Then, when they receive some consolation, their physical nature takes over. Since they feel a certain inward contentment together with outward weariness and weakness, and also a kind of sleep they call spiritual, somewhat stronger than what I have already described, they think one thing is the same as the other and allow themselves to be absorbed.

And the more they let themselves go, the more absorbed they become, because their physical nature grows weaker. In their judgment, this seems to be rapture, that is, a deep spiritual experience in which the soul is absorbed in God; but I call it stupor, because it is nothing but wasting time there and wearing out one's health. One person even spent eight hours like this, without truly being beside herself or feeling anything of God.

This passed for that person through sleeping, eating, and doing less penance, because someone understood her condition well. She had misled her confessor, other people, and herself, although she had no wish to deceive anyone. I also think the devil must have made some effort to profit from this, and was already gaining quite a lot.

It must be understood that when something is truly from God, although there may be a certain inward and outward weariness, the soul is not left weakened. On the contrary, she has a very vivid awareness of being so close to God. Besides, this does not last for so long, but only a very short time, although she may afterward become recollected again.

And in this prayer, if it is not a matter of weakness, as I have already said, it does not normally reach the point of making the body collapse or producing very strong outward signs.

So be attentive: when you feel this in yourselves, tell the superior and try to occupy your attention elsewhere as much as you can. The superior should see that you do not spend so many hours in prayer, but very few, and should make sure that you sleep well and eat well until your natural strength returns, if this is what caused you to lose it.

And if anyone is so weak by nature that she does not improve even with this, believe me: God does not want her for that kind of prayer, but for the active life. There must be all kinds in monasteries. Let her be occupied with duties, and always take care that she does not spend too much time alone, because she could lose her health altogether.

That will be mortification enough for her. This is where the Lord wishes to test her love for Him: in how she bears the absence of that prayer. And perhaps God will choose to restore her strength after some time. If He does not restore it, she will gain through vocal prayer and obedience, and will merit what she would have merited by that other path, and perhaps more.

There may also be some people whose minds and imaginations are so weak, as I have known them to be, that everything they think of seems to them to be something they are actually seeing. This is quite dangerous.

Perhaps this will be discussed later. For now I will say no more, because I have already dwelt at great length on this dwelling. I have done so because I believe it is one of the dwellings that more souls enter. Besides, since the natural and the supernatural are mingled here, the devil can do more harm. In the dwellings still to be explained, the Lord does not give him so much room.

May God be praised forever. Amen.