Capítulo IX
Awakening Through the Wounded Christ
Teresa describes how a deeply moving image of the wounded Christ stirred her to compunction and a new resolve to pray, despite her habitual distractions.
It treats of the means by which the Lord began to awaken her soul and give it light in such great darkness, and to strengthen her virtues so that she would not offend Him.✦ So by then my soul was already worn out, and though I wanted rest, the wretched habits I had wouldn't let it. It happened that one day, as I was going into the oratory, I saw an image that had been brought there for safekeeping—one that had been sought out for a certain feast being held in the house. It was of Christ, deeply wounded, and so stirring to devotion that the moment I looked at it I was completely shaken to see him like that, because it showed so well what he had suffered for us.1 I felt so keenly how poorly I had thanked him for those wounds that my heart seemed to be breaking; and I threw myself down beside him with a great flood of tears, begging him to strengthen me once and for all so I would not offend him.2 I was very devoted to the glorious Magdalene, and I thought about her conversion many times, especially when I received Communion. For, knowing that the Lord was certainly within me, I would place myself at His feet, thinking my tears were not something to be cast aside. I didn't know what I was saying—it was already more than enough that He Himself allowed me to shed them, since that feeling would leave me so quickly. And I would commend myself to that glorious saint so that she might obtain pardon for me.✦3 But this last time, with this image I'm speaking of, it seems to me it helped me more; because I was already very distrustful of myself, and I was putting all my trust in God. It seems to me I told Him then that I wasn't going to get up from there until He did what I was begging Him for. I'm certain it helped me, because I went on improving a great deal from then on.4 I had this way of praying: since I couldn't reason with my understanding, I tried to picture Christ within me, and I found myself better off, it seemed to me, with the scenes where I saw Him most alone.56 It seemed to me that, being alone and afflicted like someone in need, He would have to take me in. I had many of these simple practices; especially I found myself very much at home in the prayer of the garden—there my part was to keep Him company. I thought about that sweat and affliction He had suffered there: if I could, I wanted to wipe that so painful sweat from Him; but I remember I never dared bring myself to do it, because my sins appeared before me so grave.7 I stayed there with Him as long as my thoughts would let me, because there were many that tormented me.
Simple Practices and the Prayer of the Garden
Teresa shares her longstanding habit of meditating on Christ's agony in the garden and how nature and recollection aid her prayer.
For many years, most nights before I fell asleep, when I was entrusting myself to God for sleep, I always thought a little about this scene of the prayer in the garden—even before I became a nun, because they told me that many pardons were gained that way. And I believe my soul gained a great deal by this, because I began to practice prayer without knowing what it was; and the habit had already become so ordinary that it kept me from stopping, just as I wouldn't stop making the sign of the cross before I went to sleep.89 So, going back to what I was saying about the torment my thoughts gave me: this way of proceeding without discursive reasoning of the understanding means that the soul must either gain a great deal or be lost; I mean, consideration is lost. When it is making progress, it gains a great deal, because it is in loving.10 But getting here costs a great deal—except for people the Lord wants to bring very quickly to the prayer of quiet, and I know some. For those who go by this path, a book is helpful for gathering themselves promptly.11 It also helped me to look at fields, water, flowers. In these things I found a reminder of the Creator—I mean, they woke me and gathered me inward, and served as a book—and this amid my ingratitude and sins.12
The Struggle to Imagine Christ
Teresa confesses her inability to form mental images of Christ and explains her consequent love for physical images of Him.
My understanding of heavenly and lofty things was so crude that I could never imagine them—until the Lord showed them to me in another way. I had so little ability to picture things with my understanding that if it wasn't something I could see, my imagination was no help to me at all — the way other people do, who can form mental images and gather themselves into them. I could only think of Christ as a man; but the truth is I could never picture Him within myself, no matter how much I read of His beauty and looked at images — only like someone who is blind or in the dark, who though he talks with a person and knows she is with him, because he is certain she is there — I mean, he understands and believes she is there — still does not see her.13 That was how it was with me when I thought about our Lord. For that reason I was so fond of images. How wretched are those who, through their own fault, lose this good! It clearly seems they don't love the Lord, because if they loved Him they would take delight in seeing His likeness — just as here below it still gives pleasure to look at a portrait of someone you love well.
Consolation from Saint Augustine's Confessions
Reading Augustine's Confessions gives Teresa hope and a model for conversion, moving her to tears and a deeper longing for freedom from sin.
Around this time they gave me the Confessions of Saint Augustine, which it seems the Lord arranged, because I hadn't sought them out and had never seen them. I'm very devoted to Saint Augustine, because the convent where I lived as a laywoman belonged to his Order; and also because he had been a sinner—for among the saints whom the Lord, after they had been sinners, drew back to Himself, I found great consolation. It seemed to me I would find help in them, and that since the Lord had forgiven them, He could do the same for me—except that one thing discouraged me, as I've said: the Lord had called them only once, and they didn't fall again, whereas for me the times were already so many that this wore me down. But considering the love He had for me, I would take heart again; for I never lost trust in His mercy, though in myself I often did.14 Oh, God help me, how it frightens me — the hardness my soul had, even with so many helps from God! It scares me how little control I had over myself, and how trapped I saw myself, so that I wouldn't resolve to give myself entirely to God. When I began to read the Confessions, it seemed to me I saw myself there: I began to commend myself greatly to this glorious saint. When I came to his conversion and read how he heard that voice in the garden, it seems to me nothing other than that the Lord gave it to me too, as my heart felt it: for a long while I was completely dissolving in tears, and inwardly with great affliction and distress.✦ Oh, what a soul suffers—God help me—for losing the freedom it ought to have to be its own mistress, and what torments it endures!15 I marvel now at how I could live in so much torment. God be praised, who gave me life to come out of a death so deadly: it seems to me that my soul gained great strength from the divine Majesty, and that He must have heard my cries and taken pity on so many tears.16
Growing Love and Humble Reception of Favors
Teresa's love for God grows as she avoids occasions of sin, and she humbly receives spiritual consolations without daring to ask for them, recognizing her unworthiness.
My affection for spending more time with Him began to grow, and so did my desire to keep the occasions of sin out of my sight, because once they were removed, I would return to loving His Majesty; for from what I could tell, I understood well enough that I loved Him, but I didn't understand what it really means to love God truly, as I ought to have understood it.17 I had barely finished preparing myself to want to serve Him when His Majesty would begin again to show me His favors. It seems that what others strive with great labor to obtain, the Lord was securing for me — if only I would be willing to receive it — which was, already in these later years, giving me consolations and favors. To beg Him myself to give them to me, or even a tenderness of devotion — I never dared do that: I only asked Him to give me grace not to offend Him, and to forgive me my great sins.18 Since I saw them as so great, I never deliberately dared even to desire favors or consolations: it seems to me His compassion was already doing more than enough—and truly showing me great mercy—in allowing me to be before Him and drawing me into His presence, for I saw that if He Himself had not arranged it so carefully, I would never have come.1920 Only once in my life do I remember asking Him for consolations, when I was in great dryness; and as soon as I noticed what I was doing, I was so ashamed that the very distress of seeing myself so lacking in humility gave me what I had dared to ask for.2122 I knew well that it was lawful to ask for it, but it seemed to me that it is lawful for those who are prepared—who have sought with all their strength what true devotion is, which is not to offend God, and to be ready and resolved for every good. It seemed to me that those tears of mine were womanish and without force, since with them I wasn't attaining what I desired. Still, for all that, I believe they did help me; because, as I say, especially after those two times of such deep compunction from them and such weariness of heart, I began to give myself more to prayer and to occupy myself less with things that would harm me—though I still didn't leave them altogether. But as I say, God kept helping me turn aside from them: since His Majesty was waiting only for some readiness in me, the spiritual favors kept growing in the way I'll describe. It isn't the Lord's custom to give them except to those who are in greater purity of conscience.
Read the original Spanish
Trata por qué término comenzó el Señor á despertar su alma y darle luz en tan grandes tinieblas, y á fortalecer sus virtudes para no ofenderle.
Pues ya andaba mi alma cansada, y, aunque queria, no la dejaban descansar las ruines costumbres que tenia. Acaecióme, que entrando un dia en el oratorio, vi una imágen que habian traido allí á guardar, que se habia buscado para cierta fiesta que se hacia en casa. Era de Cristo muy llagado, y tan devota, que en mirándola, toda me turbó de verle tal, porque representaba bien lo que pasó por nosotros. Fué tanto lo que sentí de lo mal que habia agradecido aquellas llagas, que el corazon me parece se me partia; y arrojéme cabe él con grandísimo derramamiento de lágrimas, suplicándole me fortaleciese ya de una vez, para no ofenderle.
Era yo muy devota de la gloriosa Madalena, y muy muchas veces pensaba en su conversion, en especial cuando comulgaba; que, como sabia estaba allí cierto el Señor dentro de mí, poníame á sus piés, pareciéndome no eran de desechar mis lágrimas; y no sabia lo que decia, que harto hacia quien por sí me las consentia derramar, pues tan presto se me olvidaba aquel sentimiento; y encomendábame á aquella gloriosa santa para que me alcanzase perdon.
Mas esta postrera vez, desta imágen que digo, me parece me aprovechó mas; porque estaba ya muy desconfiada de mí, y ponia toda mi confianza en Dios. Paréceme le dije entonces, que no me habia de levantar de allí hasta que hiciese lo que le suplicaba. Creo cierto me aprovechó, porque fuí mijorando mucho desde entonces. Tenia este modo de oracion, que como no podia discurrir con el entendimiento, procuraba representar á Cristo dentro de mí, y hallábame mijor, á mi parecer, de las partes adonde le via mas solo. Parecíame á mí, que estando solo y afligido, como persona necesitada, me había de admitir á mí. Destas simplicidades tenia muchas; en especial me hallaba muy bien en la oracion del huerto, alli era mi acompañarle. Pensaba en aquel sudor y aflecion que alli habia tenido: si podia, deseaba limpiarle aquel tan penoso sudor; mas acuérdomeque jamás osaba determinarme á hacerlo, como se me representaban mis pecados tan graves. Estábame allí lo mas que me dejaban mis pensamientos con él, porque eran muchos los que me atormentaban.
Muchos años las mas noches, antes que me durmiese, cuando para dormir me encomendaba á Dios, sienpre pensaba un poco en este paso de la oracion del huerto, aun desde que no era monja, porque me dijeron se ganaban muchos perdones: y tengo para mí, que por aquí ganó muy mucho mi alma, porque comencé á tener oracion, sin saber qué era; y ya la costumbre tan ordinaria me hacia no dejar esto, como el no dejar de santiguarme para dormir.
Pues tornando á lo que decia del tormento, que me daban los pensamientos, esto tiene este modo de proceder sin discurso de entendimiento, que el alma ha de estar muy ganada, ú perdida, digo perdida la consideracion; en aprovechando, aprovecha mucho, porque es en amar. Mas para llegar aquí es muy á su costa, salvo á personas que quiere el Señor muy en breve llegarlas á oracion de quietud, que yo conozco algunas: para las que van por aquí, es bueno un libro para presto recogerse. Aprovechábame á mí tambien ver campos, agua, flores: en estas cosas hallaba yo memoria del Criador, digo, que me despertaban y recogian, y servian de libro, y en mi ingratitud y pecados.
En cosas del cielo, ni en cosas subidas, era mi entendimiento tan grosero, que jamás por jamás las pude imaginar, hasta que por otro modo el Señor me las representó.
Tenia tan poca habilidad para con el entendimiento representar cosas, que si no era lo que veia, no me aprovechaba nada de mi imaginacion; como hacen otras personas, que pueden hacer representaciones adonde se recogen. Yo solo podia pensar en Cristo como honbre; mas es ansí, que jamás le pude representar en mí, por mas que leia su hermosura, y via imágenes, sino como quien está ciego ú ascuras, que aunque habla con alguna persona, y ve que está con ella, porque sabe cierto que está allí, digo que entiende y cree que está allí, mas no la ve. De esta manera me acaecia á mí, cuando pensaba en nuestro Señor. A esta causa era tan amiga de imágines. ¡Desventurados de los que por su culpa pierden este bien! Bien parece que no aman al Señor, porque si le amaran holgáranse de ver su retrato, como acá aun da contento ver el de quien se quiere bien.
En este tiempo me dieron las Confesiones de san Agustin, que parece el Señor lo ordenó, porque yo no las procuré, ni nunca las habia visto. Yo soy muy aficionada á san Agustin, porque el monesterio adonde estuve seglar era de su orden; y tambien por haber sido pecador, que de los santos, que despues de serlo el Señor tornó á sí, hallaba yo mucho consuelo, pareciendome en ellos habia de hallar ayuda, y que, como los habia el Señor perdonado, podia hacer á mí; salvo que una cosa me desconsolaba, como he dicho, que á ellos solo una vez los habia el Señor llamado, y no tornaban á caer, y á mí eran ya tantas, que esto me fatigaba; mas considerando en el amor que me tenia tornaba á animarme, que de su misericordia jamás desconfié, de mí muchas veces.
¡Oh, válame Dios, cómo me espanta la reciedumbre que tuvo mi alma, con tener tantas ayudas de Dios! Háceme estar temérosa lo poco que podía conmigo, y cuán atada me veia, para no determinar á darme del todo á Dios. Como comencé á leer las Confesiones, paréceme me via yo allí: comencé á encomendarme mucho á este glorioso santo.
Cuando llegué á su conversion, y leí cómo oyó aquella voz en el Huerto, no me parece sino que el Señor me la dió á mí, segun sintió mi corazon: estuve por gran rato que toda me deshacia en lágrimas, y entre mí mesma con gran aflecion y fatiga. ¡Oh, qué sufre un alma, válame Dios, por perder la libertad, que habia de tener de ser señora, y qué de tormentos padece! Yo me admiro ahora, cómo podia vivir en tanto tormento; sea Dios alabado, que me dió vida para salir de muerte tan mortal: paréceme, que ganó grandes fuerzas mi alma de la divina Majestad, y que debia oir mis clamores y haber lástima de tantas lágrimas.
Comenzóme á crecer la afecion de estar mas tienpo con El, y á quitarme de los ojos las ocasiones, porque quitadas, luego me volvia á amar á su Majestad; que bien entendía yo, á mi parecer, amaba, mas no entendia en qué está el amar de veras á Dios, como lo habia de entender. No me parece acababa yo de disponerme á quererle servir, cuando su Majestad me comenzaba á tornar á regalar.
No parece, sino que lo que otros procuran con gran trabajo adquirir, granjeaba el Señor conmigo, que yo lo quisiese recibir, que era, ya en estos postreros años darme gustos y regalos. Suplicar yo me los diese, ni ternura de devocion, jamás á ello me atreví: splo le pedia me diese gracia para que no le ofendiese, y me perdonase mis grandes pecados.
Como los via tan grandes, aun desear regalos ni gusto, nunca de advertencia osaba: harto me parece hacia su piedad, y con verdad hacia mucha misericordia conmigo, en consentirme delante de sí y traerme á su presencia, que via yo, si tanto él no lo procurara, no viniera. Solo una vez en mi vida me acuerdo pedirle gustos, estando con mucha sequedad; y como advertí lo que hacia, quedé tan confusa, que la mesma fatiga de verme tan poco humilde, me dió lo que me habia atrevido á pedir.
Bien sabia yo era lícito pedirlo, mas parecíame á mí, que lo es á los que están dispuestos, con haber procurado lo que es verdadera devocion con todas sus fuerzas, que es no ofender á Dios, y estar dispuestos y determinados para todo bien. Parecíame, que aquellas mis lágrimas eran mujeriles, y sin fuerza, pues no alcanzaba con ellas lo que deseaba.
Pues, con todo, creo me valieron; porque como digo, en especial despues de estas dos veces de tan gran compuncion de ellas y fatiga de mi corazon, comencé mas á darme á oracion, y á tratar menos en cosas que me dañasen; aunque aun no las dejaba del todo, sino como digo, fuéme ayudando Dios á desviarme: como no estaba su Majestad esperando sino algun aparejo en mí, fueron creciendo las mercedes espirituales de la manera que diré: Cosa no usada darlas el Señor, sino á los que están en mas limpieza de conciencia.
Scripture echoes
- ↩John.1.5 — And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.
- ↩Luke.7.38 — and standing behind him at his feet, weeping, she began to wet his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hair of her head, and kissed his feet, and anointed them with the ointment.
- ↩Rom.13.13-Rom.13.14 — Let us walk properly, as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and sensuality, not in quarreling and jealousy. Rom.13.14 — But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to fulfill its desires.
Notes
- 1 ↩Spanish tan devota (feminine, agreeing with imágen) names the image as devotion-stirring rather than calling Teresa herself devout here; rendered as 'stirring to devotion' to keep that force without archaic 'devout image' phrasing.
- 2 ↩cabe él is older Spanish for 'beside him / near him'; kept as 'beside him' at the image of the wounded Christ.
- 3 ↩"harto hacia quien por sí me las consentia derramar": Teresa means the Lord's mere permission of her tears was already a great gift, given how quickly the feeling faded.
- 4 ↩Source 'mijorando' is period orthography for 'mejorando' (improving); translated accordingly.
- 5 ↩'Discurrir con el entendimiento' is Teresa's term for discursive meditation/reasoning; rendered as 'reason with my understanding.' 'Partes' are Passion scenes/passages, not body parts.
- 6 ↩Source 'mijor' is period orthography for 'mejor'; translated as 'better off.'
- 7 ↩Source 'aflecion' = period spelling of 'aflicción' (affliction); 'acuérdomeque' = 'acuérdome que' (I remember that).
- 8 ↩Spanish perdones here points to popular plenary/partial indulgences attached to the devotion; rendered as pardons to keep the plain surface sense.
- 9 ↩Source spelling sienpre read as siempre (always).
- 10 ↩Teresa clarifies 'perdida' as 'perdida la consideracion': not that the soul is lost, but that discursive consideration falls away. 'Discurso de entendimiento' and 'consideracion' are her terms for discursive meditation.
- 11 ↩'Oracion de quietud' kept as 'prayer of quiet', Teresa's technical term for a distinct grade of prayer. 'Recogerse' rendered as gathering/recollecting oneself inward.
- 12 ↩The closing phrase 'y en mi ingratitud y pecados' is elliptical; rendered as the help coming amid her still-present ingratitude and sins, not as a separate object of memory.
- 13 ↩Period spellings honbre/ansí/ascuras/via rendered as hombre/así/a oscuras/veía in sense; 'solo' taken as 'only' (not 'alone').
- 14 ↩"á mí eran ya tantas" is elliptical: in context it contrasts the saints' single call and lasting conversion with Teresa's many falls (or many calls followed by relapse). Rendered as repeated falls/relapses.
- 15 ↩'ser señora' rendered as 'be its own mistress' — the soul's proper freedom and self-rule under God, not worldly rank.
- 16 ↩'muerte tan mortal' kept as intensified spiritual death ('a death so deadly'); 'debia oir' taken as inferential 'must have heard' rather than mere obligation.
- 17 ↩Source 'tienpo' read as 'tiempo' (time); 'afecion' as 'afección' (affection).
- 18 ↩Source reading 'splo' is almost certainly a corruption of 'solo' ('only'); translated on that reading.
- 19 ↩"los" continues "mis grandes pecados" from the previous sentence: she saw her sins as so great that she would not dare ask for spiritual consolations.
- 20 ↩Normalized "hacia" as imperfect "hacía" ("was doing/showing"), standard early-modern Spanish orthography without accent; "hacia" as the preposition "toward" would not fit the clause.
- 21 ↩"gustos" rendered as "consolations" (spiritual sweetness/delight), Teresa's usual sense rather than worldly pleasures.
- 22 ↩"hacia" again read as "hacía"; "mesma" kept as archaic form of "misma" without changing sense.
The Life (Libro de la Vida) of Teresa of Ávila companion
A daily portion of stillness
Chosen Portion delivers one short contemplative reading and a guided moment of silence each day — the ascent, one step at a time.
Chosen Portion is the paced doorway into this collection: it portions the dense mystical treatises into one daily reading plus guided silence, exactly as the 14-day plan teaches.
- Daily bite-sized excerpts from the contemplative classics, never a wall of text
- A built-in timed stillness practice that grows from 2 minutes to 10
- Gentle progression through the tradition — the app remembers where you are on the ascent