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Chapter 36TeresaVida.1.36

Capítulo XXXV

Embracing Holy Poverty

Teresa learns from a holy nun and from Christ that the new monastery must be founded without endowment, and she resolves to follow the counsel of poverty despite opposition.

She continues on the same subject: the founding of this house of our glorious father Saint Joseph. She tells how the Lord ordered that holy poverty should be kept in it; and why she left the lady she was staying with, and some other things that happened to her.1 So while I was staying with this lady I mentioned, where I stayed for more than half a year, the Lord arranged for a holy woman of our Order—from more than seventy leagues away—to hear about me; she happened to be coming this way, and she traveled several leagues out of her way to speak with me. The Lord had prompted her, in the same year and month as He prompted me, to found another monastery of this Order; and once He placed this desire in her, she sold everything she had and went to Rome to obtain authorization for it, walking barefoot. She is a woman of great penance and prayer, and the Lord granted her many favors; Our Lady appeared to her and commanded her to do it; she so greatly surpassed me in serving the Lord that I felt ashamed to be in her presence. She showed me the authorizations she was bringing from Rome, and during the fifteen days she stayed with me we made plans for how to found these monasteries. And until I spoke with her, it had never come to my notice that our Rule, before it was relaxed, commanded that no private property be held; nor was I set on founding the house without an income, for my aim was that we should not have to worry about what we needed, and I was not looking at the many cares that holding property brings with it. This blessed woman, as the Lord was teaching her, had understood well—without knowing how to read—what I, despite all my reading of the constitutions, was ignorant of; and when she told me about it, it seemed good to me, though I feared they wouldn't allow me to do it, but would say I was doing foolish things, and that I shouldn't do anything that would make others suffer because of me—whereas if it were just me, little or nothing would have held me back; rather, it was a great delight to me to think of keeping the counsels of Christ our Lord, because His Majesty had already given me great desires for poverty.✦ So for my part, I had no doubt it was best, because for some time I had been wishing it were possible, in my state of life, to go about begging for the love of God and have neither house nor anything else; but I feared that if the Lord didn't give these desires to the other sisters, they would live discontented; and also that it might cause some distraction, because I saw some poor monasteries that weren't very recollected, and I failed to see that their not being recollected was what made them poor, and not poverty what caused the distraction—for poverty doesn't make people richer, nor does God ever fail anyone who serves Him: in short, my faith was weak, which was not true of this servant of God.✦2 Since I took so much advice in everything, I found almost no one of this opinion—neither my confessor nor the learned men I dealt with: they brought me so many arguments that I didn't know what to do; because once I knew it was the Rule, and saw that it was greater perfection, I couldn't bring myself to have an endowment.3 And even when they had me convinced at times, once I returned to prayer and looked at Christ on the cross so poor and naked, I couldn't bear being rich: I begged Him with tears to arrange it so that I might find myself as poor as He was.✦ I found so many drawbacks to having an endowment, and saw that it caused so much unrest, and even distraction, that I did nothing but argue with the learned men. I wrote about it to the Dominican friar who was helping us: he sent me two sheets written with objections and theology, urging me not to do it, and he told me he had studied the matter a great deal.4 I answered him that I did not want to make use of theology in order to avoid following my vocation, the vow of poverty I had made, and the counsels of Christ in all their perfection—nor would I have him do me the favor of his learning in this case.✦5 If I found anyone who would help me, I was very glad. That lady I was staying with helped me a great deal in this: some people at first told me it seemed good to them; afterward, the more they looked into it, they found so many difficulties that they went back to pressing hard that I not do it. I would tell them that if they changed their minds so quickly, I wanted to stick with the first opinion. Around this time, at my request — because this lady had never seen holy Friar Pedro de Alcántara — the Lord was pleased to have him come to her house, and since he was a true lover of poverty and had lived it for so many years, he knew well what riches it held, and so he helped me a great deal and insisted that I must by no means fail to press the matter strongly forward. So with this opinion and support — coming from someone who could give it better than anyone, because he knew it from long experience — I resolved not to go looking for other advice.6 One day, while I was earnestly committing it to God, the Lord told me that I must in no way fail to make it poor, for this was the will of His Father and His own, and that He would help me. It came with such powerful effects in a deep rapture that I couldn't doubt it was God.7 Another time He told me that confusion lay in having a fixed income, and He said other things in praise of poverty; He assured me that whoever served Him would not lack what was needed to live—and this lack, as I say, I never feared for myself.8 The Lord also turned the heart of the Presentado—I mean the Dominican friar I've already mentioned, who wrote telling me not to do it without an income.✦9 By then I was very happy to have understood this and to have such counsel: it seemed to me nothing less than that I possessed all the world's wealth, once I resolved to live for the love of God.10

The Cross of Obedience

Teresa is called to return to her old monastery for an election, and though she fears the burden of office, she obeys the Lord's command and leaves her patroness with joy.

Around this time my provincial released me from the command and the obedience he had laid on me to stay there, and left it to my will: if I wanted to leave, I could; and if I wanted to stay, I could do that too, for a certain time. And around then there was going to be an election in my monastery, and I was told that many wanted to give me that charge of being prioress; and for me, merely thinking of it was such a great torment that I was ready to endure any martyrdom for God with ease, but by no means could I persuade myself to this.11 For, leaving aside the great labor—because there were so very many—and other reasons of which I had never been fond, nor of any office (I had always refused them instead), it seemed to me a great danger to the conscience, and so I praised God that I was not there.12 I wrote to my friends asking them not to vote for me. I was very glad not to be caught up in that uproar, but the Lord told me I must not fail to go; that since I desire a cross, a good one is being prepared for me; that I shouldn't refuse it; that I should go with courage; that He would help me; and that I should leave at once. I wore myself out a great deal and did nothing but weep, because I thought the cross was becoming prioress; and as I say, I couldn't in any way persuade myself that it was good for my soul, nor could I find any way to accept it.13 I told my confessor about it. He ordered me to try to go at once, saying it was clearly greater perfection, and that because it was very hot, it would be enough for me to be there for their election and stay a few days, so the trip wouldn't harm me. But the Lord, who had ordered something else, had His way, because the unrest I carried within me was so great, and so was my inability to pray; it seemed to me I was failing in what the Lord had commanded me, and that, since I was there at my ease and in comfort, I didn't want to go offer myself to the hard work—that it was all mere words with God—and that because I could be where there was greater perfection, I had to leave it, even if I died; and with this came a constriction of the soul, the Lord's taking from me all delight in prayer.1415 In the end I was in such a state that it had become such a torment that I begged the lady to be willing to let me go, because my confessor, seeing me like that, was already telling me to leave—that God was moving him too, just as He was moving me. She felt my leaving her so deeply that it was another torment; it had cost her a great deal to bring it about with the provincial, through many kinds of importuning. I thought it an enormous thing that she should be willing to agree to it, given what she felt; but since she was very fearful of God, and since I told her that great service could be done to Him, and a great many other things, and I gave her hope that it was possible to come see her again—so, with deep sorrow, she consented. By then I no longer felt pain about leaving, because once I understood that one path was greater perfection and service of God, with the joy it gives me to please Him, I got through the grief of leaving that lady—whom I saw feeling it so keenly—and other people to whom I owed a great deal, especially my confessor, who was a Jesuit and with whom I got on very well; but the more I saw that I was losing consolation for the Lord's sake, the more joy it gave me to lose it. I couldn't understand how this could be, because I clearly saw these two contrary things: taking delight and comfort, and rejoicing in what weighed on my soul; because I was16 Comforted and at peace, and I had room for many hours of prayer. I saw that I was coming to throw myself into a fire—which the Lord had already told me—that I was coming to endure a great cross (though I never thought it would be as great as I later saw), and even so I was already coming gladly, and I was beside myself that He would not put me into the battle at once, since the Lord wanted me to have it; and so His Majesty sent the courage and set it in my weakness.17

The Royal Road of Love

Teresa reflects on the blessed house as a paradise of delight and meditates on the security of the path of love and humility.

I couldn't, as I say, understand how this could be. I thought of this comparison: if I possess a jewel, or something that gives me great joy, and I learn that a person wants it—someone I love more than myself, and whom I want to please more than my own comfort—it gives me great joy to go without it, and without the delight my possessing it used to give me, in order to please that person; and since this joy of pleasing that person exceeds my own joy, the pain of missing the jewel, or what I love, and of losing the delight it gave, is taken away—so that although I wanted to keep it, seeing that I was leaving people who felt my departure so deeply—I, being by nature so grateful that at another time that would have been enough to wear me out a great deal—now, even if I wanted to feel the pain, I couldn't. It mattered so much that I not delay even one more day, as far as the business of this blessed house was concerned, that I don't know how it could have been finished if I had stayed then. Oh, the greatness of God! It often amazes me when I consider it, and see how especially His Majesty wanted to help me so that this little corner of God might be brought about—which I believe it is, and a dwelling where His Majesty takes delight; as once, while I was at prayer, He told me that this house was a paradise of His delight. And so it seems His Majesty has chosen the souls He has brought to it, and I live in their company with deep, deep shame.18 For I would never have known how to desire people like them for this purpose of such enclosure, poverty, and prayer, and they bear it with a joy and contentment such that each one finds herself unworthy of having deserved to come to such a place; especially some whom the Lord called from much vanity and worldly display, where they could have been content according to its laws, and the Lord has given them here joys so doubled that they clearly know the Lord has given them a hundredfold for what they left, and they never tire of giving thanks to His Majesty; others He has changed from good to better. To the young ones He gives strength and understanding, so that they cannot desire anything else, and so that they understand that it is to live in greater rest—even in this life—to be set apart from all the things of life. To those who are older and in poor health He gives strength, and He has given it to them, so they can bear the austerity and penance that all observe. Oh my Lord, how clearly You show Your power! There is no need to look for reasons for what You will, because above all natural reason You make things so possible that You make it quite clear that nothing more is needed than to love You truly and leave everything truly for Your sake, so that You, my Lord, may make it all easy. It fits well here to say that You pretend there is hardship in Your law, because I don't see it, Lord, nor do I understand how the path that leads to You is narrow.19 I see that it is a royal road, not a footpath—a road on which anyone who truly sets out travels more securely.20 The mountain passes and rocks where one might fall are very far away, because the occasions for falling are also far away.21 What I call a footpath—a wretched, narrow road—is the one that has a very deep valley to fall into on one side, and a precipice on the other; people have barely grown careless before they plunge over and smash themselves to pieces.22 The one who loves You truly, my Good, travels securely on a wide and royal road; the precipice is far away. He hasn't stumbled even a little when You, Lord, give him Your hand. One fall—or even many—isn't enough to lose someone who loves You, and not the things of the world:✦ You go through the valley of humility. I can't understand what they're afraid of in setting themselves on the path of perfection. May the Lord, for His sake, help us understand how dangerous false security is amid the obvious dangers of going along with the crowd, and how true security lies in striving to go far ahead on God's path.2324 Keep your eyes on Him, and don't be afraid that this Sun of Justice will set, or that He will leave us to walk in the night so that we get lost—unless we leave Him first. They're not afraid to walk among lions, each of which seems ready to tear off a piece—lions that are the honors and pleasures and similar satisfactions the world names—and yet here the devil seems to make them afraid of shrews.25 A thousand times I'm horrified, and ten thousand times I'd want to weep my fill and cry out to everyone to tell them my great blindness and wickedness, in case it might do some good and make them open their eyes. May He who can open them by His goodness, and may He not allow mine to grow blind again. Amen.26

Read the original Spanish

Prosigue en la mesma materia de la fundacion de esta casa de nuestro glorioso padre san Josef. Dice por los términos que or denó el Señor viniese á guardarse en ella la santa pobreza; y la causa por qué se vino de con aquella señora que estaba, y otras algunas cosas que le sucedieron.

Pues estando con esta señora, que he dicho, adonde estuve mas de medio año, ordenó el Señor, que tuviese noticia de mí una beata de nuestra Orden, de mas de setenta leguas de aquí de este lugar, y acertó á venir por acá, y rodeó algunas por hablarme. Habíala el Señor movido, el mesmo año y mes que á mí, para hacer otro monesterio de esta Orden; y como le puso este deseo, vendió todo lo que tenia, y fuese á Roma á traer despacho para ello, á pie y descalza. Es mujer de mucha penitencia y oracion, y hacíala el Señor muchas mercedes y aparecióle nuestra Señora, y mandóla lo hiciese: hacíame tantas ventajas en servir á el Señor, que yo habia vergüenza de estar delante de ella. Mostróme los despachos que traia de Roma, y en quince dias que estuvo conmigo, dimos órden en cómo habiamos de hacer estos monesterios. Y hasta que yo la hablé, no habia venido á mi noticia, que nuestra regla antes que se relajase, mandaba no se tuviese propio; ni yo estaba en fundarle sin renta, que iba mi intento á que no tuviésemos cuidado de lo que habiamos menester, y no miraba á los muchos cuidados que trae consigo tener propio. Esta bendita mujer, como la enseñaba el Señor, tenia bien entendido, con no saber leer, lo que yo, con tanto haber andado á leer las costituciones, inoraba: y como me lo dijo, parecióme bien, aunque temí que no me lo habian de consentir, sino decir que hacia desatinos, y que no hiciese cosa que padeciesen otras por mí, que á ser yo sola, poco ni mucho me detuviera; antes me era gran regalo pensar de guardar los consejos de Cristo Señor nuestro, porque grandes deseos de pobreza ya me los habia dado su Majestad.

Ansí, que para mí no dudaba de ser lo mijor, porque dias habia que deseaba fuera posible á mi estado andar pidiendo por amor de Dios, y no tener casa ni otra cosa; mas temia, que si á las demás no daba el Señor estos deseos, vivirian descontentas; y tambien no fuese causa de alguna destraicion, porque veia algunos monesterios pobres no muy recogidos, y no miraba, que el no serlo era causa de ser pobres, y no la pobreza de la destraicion, porque esta no hace mas ricas, ni falta Dios jamás á quien le sirve: en fin tenia flaca la fe, lo que no hacia esta sierva de Dios. Como yo en todo tomaba tantos pareceres, casi á nadie hallaba de este parecer, ni confesor ni los letrados que trataba: traíanme tantas razones, que no sabia que hacer; porque como ya yo sabia era regla, y via ser mas perfecion, no podia persuadirme á tener renta. Y ya que algunas veces me tenian convencida, en tornando á la oracion, y mirando á Cristo en la cruz tan pobre y desnudo, no podia poner á paciencia ser rica: suplicábale con lágrimas lo ordenase de manera, que yo me viese pobre como El. Hallaba tantos inconvenientes para tener renta, y via ser tanta causa de inquietud, y aun destraicion, que no hacia sino disputar con los letrados. Escribílo al religioso dominico, que nos ayudaba: envióme escritos dos pliegos de contradicion y teulogía, para que no lo hiciese, y ansi me lo decia, que lo habia estudiado mucho. Yo le respondí, que para no seguir mi llamamiento, y el voto que tenia hecho de pobreza, y los consejos de Cristo con toda perfecion, que no queria aprovecharme de teulogía, ni con sus letras en este caso me hiciese merced. Si hallaba alguna persona que me ayudase, alegrábame mucho. Aquella señora con quien estaba, para esto me ayudaba mucho: algunos luego al principio decíanme, que les parecia bien, despues, como mas lo miraban, hallaban tantos inconvenientes, que tornaban á poner mucho en que no lo hiciese.

Decíales yo, que si ellos tan presto mudaban parecer, que yo al primero me queria llegar.

En este tiempo, por ruegos mios, porque esta señora no habia visto á el santo fray Pedro de Alcántara, fué el Señor servido viniese á su casa, y como el que era bien amador de la pobreza, y tantos años la habia tenido, sabia bien la riqueza que en ella estaba, y ansí me ayudó mucho, y mandó, que en ningun manera dejase de llevarlo muy adelante. Ya con este parecer y favor, como quien mijor lo podia dar, por tenerlo sabido por larga espiriencia, yo determiné no andar buscando otros.

Estando un dia mucho encomendándolo á Dios, me dijo el Señor, que en ninguna manera dejase de hacerle pobre, que esta era la voluntad de su Padre y suya, que El me ayudaria. Fué con tan grandes efetos en un gran arrobamiento, que en ninguna manera pude tener duda de que era Dios. Otra vez me dijo, que en la renta estaba la confusion, y otras cosas en loor de la pobreza; y asigurándome, que á quien le servia no le faltaba lo necesario para vivir: y esta falta, como digo, nunca yo la temí por mí. Tambien volvió el Señor el corazon del presentado, digo del religioso dominico, de quien he dicho me escribió no lo hiciese sin renta. Ya yo estaba muy contenta con haber entendido esto, y tener tales pareceres: no me parecia, sino que poseia toda la riqueza del mundo, en determinándome á vivir de por amor de Dios.

En este tiempo mi provincial me alzó el mandamiento y obediencia, que me habia puesto para estar allí, y dejó en mi voluntad, que si me quisiese ir, que pudiese, y si estar, tambien, por cierto tiempo; y en este habia de haber eleccion en mi monesterio, y avisáronme que muchas querian darme aquel cuidado de perlada; que para mí solo pensarlo era tan gran tormento, que á cualquier martirio me determinaba á pasar por Dios con facilidad, á este en ningun arte me podia persuadir. Porque dejado el trabajo grande, por ser muy muchas, y otras causas, de que yo nunca fuí amiga, ni de ningun oficio, antes siempre los habia rehusado, parecíame gran peligro para la conciencia, y ansí alabé á Dios de no me hallar allá. Escribí á mis amigas para que no me diesen voto.

Estando muy contenta de no me hallar en aquel ruido, díjome el Señor, que en ninguna manera deje de ir, que pues deseo cruz, que buena se me apareja, que no la deseche, que vaya con ánimo, que El me ayudará, y que me fuese luego. Yo me fatigué mucho, y no hacia sino llorar, porque pensé que era la cruz ser perlada, y como digo, no podia persuadirme á que estaba bien á mi alma en ninguna manera, ni yo, hallaba términos para ello. Contélo á mi confesor: mandóme que luego procurase ir, que claro estaba era mas perfecion, y que, porque hacia gran calor, bastaba hallarme allá á su elecion, que me estuviese unos dias, porque no me hiciese mal el camino. Mas el Señor, que tenia ordenado otra cosa, húbose de hacer; porque era tan grande el desasosiego que traia en mí, y el no poder tener oracion, y parecerme faltaba de lo que el Señor me habia mandado, y que, como estaba allí á mi placer y con regalo, no queria irme á ofrecer al trabajo, que todo era palabras con Dios, que porque pudiendo estar adonde era mas perfecion, habia de dejarlo, que si me muriese, muriese: y con esto un apretamiento de alma, un quitarme el Señor todo el gusto en la oracion. En fin, yo estaba tal, que ya me era tormento tan grande, que supliqué á aquella señora tuviese por bien dejarme venir, porque ya mi confesor, como me vió ansí, me dijo, que me fuese, que tambien le movia Dios como á mí. Ella sentia tanto que la dejase, que era otro tormento, que le habia costado mucho acabarlo con el provincial, por muchas maneras de importunaciones.

Tuve por grandísima cosa querer venir en ello, segun lo que sentia; sino como era muy temerosa de Dios, y como le dije que se le podia hacer gran servicio, y otras hartas cosas, y díle esperanza, que era posible tornarla á ver; y ansí, con harta pena lo tuvo por bien. Ya yo no la tenia de venirme, porque entendiendo yo era mas perfecion una cosa, y servicio de Dios, con el contento que me da de contentarle, pasé la pena de dejar á aquella señora, que tanto la via sentir, y otras personas á quien debia mucho, en especial á mi confesor, que era de la Compañía de Jesus, y hallábame muy bien con él: mas mientras mas via que perdia de consuelo por el Señor, mas contento me daba perderlo. No podia entender como era esto, porque via claro estos dos contrarios, holgarme y consolarme, y alegrarme de lo que me pesaba en el alma; porque yo estaba. consolada y sosegada, y tenia lugar para tener muchas horas de oracion: via que venia á meterme en un fuego, que ya el Señor me lo habia dicho, que venia á pasar gran crus (aunque nunca yo pensé lo fuera tanto, como despues ví) y con todo venia ya alegre, y estaba deshecha de que no me ponia luego en la batalla, pues el Señor queria la tuviese, y ansi enviaba su Majestad el esfuerzo, y le ponia en mi fla queza.

No podia, como digo, entender como podia ser esto: pensé esta comparacion; si poseyendo yo una joya, ó cosa que me da gran contento, ofréceseme saber, que la quiere una persona, que yo quiero mas que á mí, y deseo mas contentarla, que mi mesmo descanso, dame gran contento quedarme sin ella, que me daba lo que poseia, por contentar á aquella persona; y como este contento de contentarla escede á mi mesmo contento, quítase la pena de la falta que me hace la joya, ó lo que amo, y de perder el contento que daba, de manera, que aunque queria tenerla, de ver que dejaba personas, que tanto sentian apartarse de mí, con ser yo de mi condicion tan agradecida, que bastára en otro tiempo á fatigarme mucho, y ahora aunque quisiera tener pena, no podia. Importó tanto el no me tardar un dia mas, para lo que tocaba á el negocio de esta bendita casa, que yo no sé como pudiera concluirse, si entonces me detuviera. ¡Oh grandeza de Dios! muchas veces me espanta cuando lo considero, y veo cuán particularmente queria su Majestad ayudarme, para que se efetuase este rinconcito de Dios, que yo creo lo es, y morada en que su Majestad se deleita; como una vez estando en oracion me dijo, que era esta casa paraiso de su deleite: y ansí parece ha su Majestad escogido las almas que ha traido á él, en cuya compañía yo vivo con harta, harta confusion. Porque yo no supiera desearlas tales para este propósito de tanta estrechura y pobreza y oracion, y llévanlo con una alegría y contento, que cada una se halla indina de haber merecido venir á tal lugar; en especial algunas, que las llamó el Señor de mucha vanidad y gala del mundo, adonde pudieran estar contentas conforme á sus leyes, y háles dado el Señor tan doblados los contentos aquí, que claramente conocen haberles el Señor dado ciento por uno que dejaron, y no se hartan de dar gracias á su Majestad: otras ha mudado de bien en mijor. A las de poca edad da fortaleza y conocimiento, para que no puedan desear otra cosa, y que entiendan es vivir en mayor descanso, aun para lo de acá, estar apartadas de todas las cosas de la vida. A las que son de mas edad y con poca salud, da fuerzas, y se las ha dado para poder llevar la aspereza y penitencia que todas.

¡Oh Señor mio, como se os parece que sois poderoso! No es menester buscar razones para lo que Vos quereis, porque sobre toda razon natural haceis las cosas tan posibles, que dais á entender bien, que no es menester mas de amaros de veras, y dejarlo de veras todo por Vos, para que Vos, Señor mio, lo hagais todo fácil. Bien viene aquí decir, que finjís trabajo en vuestra ley, porque yo no lo veo, Señor, ni sé como es estrecho el camino que lleva á Vos. Camino real veo que es, que no senda: camino que quien de verdad se pone en él, va mas siguro. Muy lejos están los puertos y rocas para caer; porque lo están de las ocasiones. Senda llamo yo, y ruin senda y angosto camino, el que de una parte está un valle muy hondo adonde caer, y de la otra un despeñadero: no se han descuidado, cuando se despeñan y se hacen pedazos. El que os ama de verdad, Bien mio, siguro va, por ancho camino y real; lejos está el despeñadero. No ha tropezado tantico, cuando le dais Vos, Señor, la mano.

No basta una caida, y muchas, si os tiene amor, y no á las cosas del mundo, para perderse:

va por el valle de la humildad. No puedo entender, que es lo que temen de ponerse en el camino de la perfecion. El Señor, por quien es, nos dé á entender cuan mala es la siguridad en tan manifiestos peligros, como hay en andar con el hilo de la gente, y como está la verdadera siguridad en procurar ir muy adelante en el camino de Dios. Los ojos en El, y no hayan miedo se ponga este sol de justicia, ni nos deje caminar de noche para que nos perdamos, si primero no le dejamos á El. No temen andar entre leones, que cada uno parece que quiere llevar un pedazo, que son las honras y deleites y contentos semejantes, que llama el mundo, y acá parece hace el demonio temer de musarañas.

Mil veces me espanto, y diez mil querria hartarme de llorar, y dar voces á todos para decir la gran ceguedad y maldad mia, por si aprovechase algo para que ellos abriesen los ojos. Abraselos El que puede por su bondad, y no primita se me tornen á cegar á mí, amen.

Scripture echoes

  1. ↩Matt.19.21 — Jesus said to him, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me."
  2. ↩Matt.6.25-Matt.6.33 — Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat [or what you will drink], nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not the life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Matt.6.26 — Look at the birds of the air: they do not reap, nor gather into barns, nor store away grain — and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not worth far more than they? Matt.6.27 — And which of you by being anxious can add a single cubit to his lifespan? Matt.6.28 — And why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they do not toil, nor do they spin. Matt.6.29 — Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his glory was clothed like one of these. Matt.6.30 — If God so clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Matt.6.31 — Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' Matt.6.32 — For all these things the Gentiles seek after. For your Father who is in heaven knows that you need all of these things. Matt.6.33 — But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.
  3. ↩2Cor.8.9 — For you know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that by his poverty you might become rich.
  4. ↩Matt.19.21 — Jesus said to him, "If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me."
  5. ↩Prov.21.1 — The king's heart is like channels of water in the hand of the LORD; he turns it wherever he wills.
  6. ↩1John.2.15 — Do not love the world, nor the things in the world. If anyone loves the world, the love of the Father is not in him.

Notes

  1. 1 ↩Normalized source splits ordenó as "or denó"; translated as ordenó ("ordered").
  2. 2 ↩Source 'desatraicion' read as early-modern 'distracción' (distraction/dissipation), parallel to monasteries 'no muy recogidos'.
  3. 3 ↩'renta' rendered as 'endowment' (fixed monastic income), the usual sense in Teresa's foundation disputes.
  4. 4 ↩Source spelling 'teulogía' treated as 'teología' (theology).
  5. 5 ↩'para no seguir...' read as refusing theology used as cover for not following vocation, vow, and counsels—not as refusing the vocation itself.
  6. 6 ↩parecer: rendered as 'opinion' (counsel/judgment); favor: 'support/backing.' Source spellings mijor/espiriencia are historical variants of mejor/experiencia.
  7. 7 ↩efetos = efectos (period spelling). arrobamiento rendered as rapture, Teresa's usual term for ecstatic suspension.
  8. 8 ↩renta here means a monastery's fixed endowment/income, not modern 'rent.' confusion rendered as the disorder/trouble that comes with endowment.
  9. 9 ↩presentado kept as the Dominican title Presentado (a friar presented for higher academic/religious standing); Teresa immediately glosses him as the Dominican she had cited.
  10. 10 ↩pareceres rendered as counsel (the supporting judgments she had gathered). vivir de por amor de Dios taken as resolve to live for love of God in poverty without endowment; source phrasing is slightly elliptical.
  11. 11 ↩Spanish perlada is the historical form of prelada, the convent office of prioress.
  12. 12 ↩muy muchas is elliptical in the source; the implied referent is the large community whose governance would make the office heavy labor.
  13. 13 ↩Spanish perlada is the early-modern form of prelada, "prioress" / superior; rendered "prioress" from neighboring context about election to that office.
  14. 14 ↩todo era palabras con Dios rendered as "it was all mere words with God": self-rebuke that comfortable talk with God was empty while she refused the harder path.
  15. 15 ↩húbose de hacer taken as "it had to be done / He had His way"—the Lord's prior ordering prevailed.
  16. 16 ↩Sentence is artificially truncated mid-clause; continuation is TeresaVida.1.36.9.s4.
  17. 17 ↩Normalized 'crus' as 'cruz' (cross) and split 'fla queza' as 'flaqueza' (weakness).
  18. 18 ↩"confusion" rendered as deep shame/abashment (Golden Age spiritual sense of humbling unworthiness), not mere bewilderment.
  19. 19 ↩Source finjís is Golden-Age fingís: 'You pretend / make a show of.' Rendered as 'pretend' for the irony that God's law only seems hard.
  20. 20 ↩camino real is the king's highway / main road, contrasted with senda (a narrow footpath).
  21. 21 ↩puertos here means mountain passes (road hazards), not seaports; ocasiones are occasions that lead to a fall.
  22. 22 ↩no se han descuidado, cuando se despeñan: rendered as barely growing careless before a catastrophic fall; the clause can also be read as ironic understatement about how quickly ruin follows on that path.
  23. 23 ↩por quien es: Teresa's intensifying formula, rendered as for His sake (appealing to who the Lord is).
  24. 24 ↩andar con el hilo de la gente: idiom for going with the current/thread of the crowd.
  25. 25 ↩musarañas: literally shrews; idiomatically trifling bogeys. Kept as shrews to preserve Teresa's concrete contrast with lions.
  26. 26 ↩Source reading 'primita' treated as 'permita' (may He not allow); clear early-modern spelling/corruption.

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