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Eduardo Agosta Scarel, O.Carm.,

Principles

  1. The roots of the ecological crisis are linked to the way human beings relate both to the Divine and to nature.
  2. The human heart is not satisfied with anything less than the Infinite.
  3. Created things can never take the place of God.
  4. God has created us to live in harmony with all created things and with God the Creator.
  5. Societies with no understanding of this will seek to deal with unlimited human desire by fostering consumerism by every means possible.
  6. The Carmelite call to contemplation presents a path to wisdom that can heal both the human person and the planet on which we live.
  7. The Carmelite path of contemplation re-orders our human desire and helps us attain happiness without constantly feeding every whim.
  8. The Carmelite path can help people appreciate the beauty of Creation and see a way to preserve it for the good of future generations.

Introduction

The gift that Carmel has received from God for the world (the Carmelite charism) is essentially based on three elements: prayer, community, and service. They guide the transforming spiritual journey of Carmelites and come together in contemplation, one of the elements of our charism that dynamically unifies them.

The whole of reality could be regarded from a trinitarian perspective: God, human beings and other created things (both visible and invisible), in mutual interpenetration, held together by the Divine Power, the Spirit of God, the enveloping and sustaining source of reality. The contemplation of such reality is a call to discover or be aware of the empowering love of God within human beings and other created things. Such a process requires a profound transformation. The Carmelite way proposes that this transformation is aided by prayer, community and service that are the paths to contemplation.

Ecology is the human activity concerned with the comprehensive management of nature in order to regulate the relationships within and between all created things on the earth that is home to all. Comprehensive management involves taking into account the oft forgotten divine dimension.  The expression ecological crisis, or environmental crisis, means that the comprehensive management of such relationships is at risk. The crisis arises from a number of factors including the lack of attention to the divine dimension of reality which is apparent in the way we have been behaving in westernized societies. The roots of the ecological crisis can be linked to the human relationship with the Divine and with nature. If this is so, the Carmelite value of contemplation can be regarded as an important way to rediscover the Divine dimension of reality. Therefore prayer, community and service are vital ways towards the healing of nature.

The Spiritual Roots of the Ecological Crisis

Understanding the link between ecology and the Carmelite charism requires understanding contemplation as a spiritual path that is intimately related to the human journey towards an integration of the human personality, both the dark and luminous sides. This is an ongoing journey towards maturity of human affectivity, intellect and sexuality. These three factors of human life can be considered as parts of the human desire dynamism. Carmelites sum up this journey towards integration with the proposal to live in allegiance to Jesus Christ (Constitutions 2). We believe that God has created us for life and to preserve harmonious relationships with all created things and with God. We need to understand that the roots of the current ecological crisis are human and not merely technical or scientific, as if ecological problems were only a matter of some changes in technology. It is not sufficient simply to change to new ‘clean’ technologies. If it were so, we would not be speaking about a crisis.

The current ecological crisis, evidenced by climate change, energy resource depletion, and an increasing gap between the richest and the poorest, seems to have started with a crisis within human beings. During the past century very profound social changes have taken place. Our understanding of what it means to be human has changed considerably. We moved from thinking of ourselves as creatures equipped with reason, self-sufficiency and freedom, able to make choices regarding what we considered to be best and proper for each of us, towards an understanding of the human being as eternally dissatisfied. Now technology, as a caring nanny, is expected to meet every need and desire.

Because of the huge development in technology, we have been able to take some extraordinary strides to transform nature and enhance and embellish the quality of life. However our expectations have risen greatly and we often look to technology to grant us everything we wish without delay. Our lives are now more comfortable and healthier, thanks to growing scientific knowledge. However, technological development has been appropriated by economic and cultural models to consolidate a particular way of living, which is the technocratic westernized lifestyle. Our western societies have various guiding mantras: ‘grow or die’; ‘if you are unhappy go out and buy something’; ‘quantity and acceleration’. Thus the traditional human rhythms and cycles of nature are forgotten.  We seem unaware that the technocracy model of human development is a human construction and is not an uncontrollable natural force before which we must bow.

Conventional economic theory is part of the model of technocratic human development. It is based on the logic of dissatisfaction of desire. Westernized economies empower the rivalry between human desire and greed, by producing an abundance of goods to temporarily alleviate the tension of desire.

In addition, globalized societies, guided by the technocracy laws, have created their own myths. The absence of material goods is seen as the ultimate evil and so human desire and greed are encouraged at every level. Other dangerous mantras of our societies are: ‘full is better than empty’; ‘much is better than little’; ‘big is better than small’. Therefore we must fill everything, have everything, know everything.

We have a developmental model that is based on the dissatisfaction-desire economy. Human desire can be easily manipulated by external factors. This fact is observed within the phenomenon of globalization, where social fragmentation, and the creation of goods and services for consumption induced by advertising, all become external forces that irresistibly control us from within. We no longer consume the things we need but everything we are offered, without distinction. We have new needs that did not exist before. The technological novelties appear to be little paradises of illusion that are updated every day and suited to our increasingly fragmented world. Hence, consumerism has been imposed as the only way for the development of westernized life. It has been imposed by the strong interests in the local economy of global enterprises. The maximization of profit is at the expense of many people’s lives as well as the environment. In the future, there will not be sufficient energy sources for life as we are now consuming many resources at the lowest cost and the maximum gain.

Another dilemma is that human desire is unlimited. According to the Carmelite, Saint John of the Cross, the heart of the human being is not satisfied with less than Infinite (Living Flame of Love, 3, 18). For this reason when desire is given free rein on a global scale, natural resources are insufficient to satisfy it. The earth implodes. The physical limits of the planet are too finite in comparison to unlimited desire.

Apart from unlimited human desire and the economy based on that desire, there exists another human limitation which has a negative influence on the health of the earth. Our daily actions are performed locally, but their effects are global. We seem to be unaware of this fact. This limitation can be seen in the issue of climate change. Global warming is a symptom of the global social-economic model that is ultimately unsustainable. The planetary temperature is increasing because more greenhouse gases (GHGs, such as carbon dioxide, etc.) are constantly emitted. The GHGs emissions increments are due primarily to energy consumption of oil, natural gas and coal. Ninety percent of global energy consumption is provided by non-renewable power sources.  Most of these are starting to disappear. It is said that oil-based energy will be available for another thirty to fifty years. The greater demands for energy come from the highly developed societies, which have 25 percent of the global population, and whose lifestyles are characterized by an excessive consumption. This means that we consume more than we need because of the manipulation of human desire through the latest thing constantly presented to us by means of the mass media.

Moreover, as a consequence of current global patterns of development and consumption, social injustice is prevalent in many parts of the world. Consumerism is a luxurious lifestyle when compared with half of the world’s population, that is to say that few technologically developed societies enjoy high standards by depleting global resources. A quarter of the global population consumes 80 percent of the earth’s resources in order to sustain their lifestyle.

The Path of Healing

The wisdom of the Carmelite tradition takes us on the inner journey towards the maturity of our human desires. It helps us to recognize the priority of God in our lives. Human desire seems to have such unique characteristics that perplex psychologists of all generations. We have immediate wants but often we do not know exactly what it is we really want. The spiritual path for human beings is to pay attention to what really matters. Only when a person is centred and when all the strengths of his/her desire are channelled in and towards God, is it possible to achieve equilibrium and peace. 

John of the Cross, describes the origin of unlimited human desire. He says that it is as if God wounds the soul and human life is a search for relief. In seeking relief, we can be too demanding, asking things to take the place of God. That is always the temptation: to make created things (either material or spiritual) such as success, pleasure, happiness, sex, power, science, etc., as well as people, our idols or gods and ask them to fulfil our unlimited desires.

However, there is no thing or person that can take the place of God in our lives. The divine wound is only healed by the Spirit of God. John of the Cross teaches that human desire always runs the risk of fragmentation in multiple desires attaching themselves to things and people, seeking from them what they cannot give. The Carmelite tells of the need to direct our desire toward God who alone can bring harmony and peace. Our addictions and unconscious desires are not obstacles to eliminate but to face up to and integrate within the desire for the Infinite. This process does not mean despising things, since we need them, but is a way to bring some order to our desires. Hence, the Carmelite spiritual itinerary regards the interior of the human being as immensely cluttered and therefore needs to be emptied out in order to be filled by God, who is the fulfilment of every human desire.

Our secular societies have no other ways to treat unlimited human desire than to feed them with consumerism. Natural disasters, climate change, air and water pollution, social injustice, impoverishment of many peoples – among other environmental and social issues – are the result of unsustainable development patterns of production and consumption that are supported by economies based on the eternally dissatisfied human desire that has no God.

Concluding Remarks

The Carmelite call to contemplation is an inner journey that leads to our maturity and re-ordering of our human desires. This leads to a healing for people and for the earth. Human beings need to abandon the belief that fulfilment is to be found in amassing material goods. Then we will be able to liberate the earth from the obligation to satisfy this desire for more and more. Such a proposal is certainly not easy because it requires, as a first step, recognition that human desire cannot be satisfied by the material. Opening oneself to experience the empowering love of God can help to re-orient our desires towards a simpler lifestyle. We can then learn that immediate gratification is not always necessary or possible. It requires some sacrifice so that we can receive something greater and better.

The Carmelite contemplative path of transformation by means of prayer, community and service brings about a personal, communitarian and planetary healing, helping us to understand that:

  • Few things are really vital to our lives.
  • Little is often sufficient.
  • Dissatisfaction is part of life.
  • Human aspirations and desires are infinite because they are made for God.

There is no doubt that humanity must face its capacity for self-destruction, which was limited by the sense of the sacred in the past, but now appears to be unlimited. Without a growth in awareness of the divine dimension of reality, an ecological catastrophe seems to be inevitable. It is a time for contemplation so that we might rediscover that all human desire is a manifestation of the profound desire for God.

In our communities we need to recognize that our local actions have global effects. Therefore it is urgent to change our patterns of communitarian life that affect the health of the planet. We need to work for the development of a new economy based on needs, and not to supply a never ending desire for more. We seek to help people become aware of the need to preserve the quality of life for the whole of creation because God has clothed all people and all things with a particular beauty that reflects the beauty of the Creator.


 

Presented by Eduardo Agosta Scarel, O.Carm., to a meeting of the Carmelite NGO. The paper first appeared in ‘Meeting the People in the Marketplace’ produced by the Carmelite NGO and reproduced here with kind permission.

In these most recent years we have been celebrating a number of centenaries that have great importance for the life of our Carmelite family: St Albert of Jerusalem and Jerónimo Gracián, the eighth and fourth centenaries of whose deaths occur respectively; and St Teresa of Jesus, the fifth centenary of whose birth occurs.

We would like to share some reflections on Fr Jerónimo Gracián with the whole Carmelite Family. We begin from the story of his life, not always well known to everybody. It is true that in these last few years, thanks to the publication of a series of bibliographies, studies and the edition of some of his writings, Gracián is beginning to find some space in Carmelite bibliography. It is also worth noting that in this process of recovery, his own La Peregrinación de Anastasio has had an important place.[1]

1.    A Man of his Times – 1545-1572

Jerónimo Gracián was born in the Castilian city of Valladolid, on June 6th, 1545. It was there that he received the imprint that would develop to maturity in later life. Spanish and Polish blood ran through his veins. His father, Diego Gracián de Alderete, was ‘Latin Secretary to his Majesty’, King Philip II, and a humanist worthy of the name. He was distinguished for being an excellent calligrapher, polyglot and a connoisseur of classical culture. He worked as a secretary to bishops and as a translator of books, especially Greek and Latin books. In his youth he had a very close friendship with the one who would become his father-in-law, Juan Dantisco, Polish ambassador to the court of Charles I of Spain, and Charles V of Germany. With the passage of time he became a bishop, first of Culm, and later he was promoted to the Church of Warmia (Poland). Jerónimo Gracián would inherit both from his father and from his maternal grand-father a passion for literature and for classical culture.

Jerónimo Gracián was the third of twenty brothers. Teresa of Jesus used to sing the praises of his mother, Juana Dantisco on account of her deep piety, which she passed on to her children of whom seven entered religious life. The Carmelites were: María de San José, Isabel de Jesús, Juliana de Santa Teresa y Lorenzo Gracián. From his earliest years Jerónimo had a Jesuit as his spiritual director. He studied in the well-known university of Alcalá de Henares. At nineteen years of age, he was already a Master of Arts, a proof of his intelligence and his aptitude for study. He then studied theology, and came very close to the degree of Doctor. He was ordained a priest at twenty four years of age. His love for literature is widely known: “Reading and study of good books (principally from when I began to study Theology, which is my profession) has been something very ordinary, since the time when I was ten years old and I began to study, up to the present day” (PA, c. XV). The light of the Word, the cornerstone of his academic and theological formation, directed his reason and intellect towards the mystery of God (cf. Ps 108,109): “Our Lord helped him to understand that to knowledgeable people, whom he has enlightened through the ordinary pathway of study, it is not necessary to give particular revelations and visions.....” (PA, c. XV). Hence he affirms, “I set about writing” and “I did not hide the talent for writing that the Lord had given me” (PA, c. XV).

2.    His encounter with Saint Teresa of Jesus – 1572-1592

When he was ordained and had finished his studies for a doctorate he began to think about the possibility of joining the Jesuits. In this time of searching he got to know the Carmelite nuns in Pastrana and the prioress of the community, Isabel de Santo Domingo. The life and spirit of these women fascinated him:

I received the habit in Pastrana, in 1572, having fought for a year and a half with this vocation, which was a real torment. All the natural reasons were against me at that point: poor health, natural laziness, study fatigue, obligations towards my parents and brothers (...) All of this, on the one hand, battled against a burning desire to serve our Lord, and, on the other hand, since the reform of this Order was beginning at that time, it seemed to me that my Lord was calling me for that (PA, c. I).

Our Lady of Mount Carmel would be his companion on the journey from the very beginning. Teresa of Jesus attributed his choosing the Carmelite Order to his great devotion to Mary and his great desire to serve her. He said, indeed, that when he was a child, he very often prayed before a statue of Mary, for whom he had a deep devotion and to whom he referred as his “lover”: “I am blinded by the love of such a lady.... I would lose my life, which I would give so willingly to my Lady, the Virgin Mary” (PA, c. I). In the view of Teresa of Jesus, it was the intervention of the Blessed Virgin that led him to choose the Carmelite habit (cf. F 23, 4-8).

His Carmelite adventure began with a lot of responsibilities, even though he was still only a novice. He recounts:

I received the habit, and straightaway the jobs began, and I was soon worn out from preaching and hearing confessions in the Carmelite house and in the town of Pastrana and in the towns and villages round about, where we had benefactors (...) I had to instruct thirty novices that later were the pride of the Order; and we were alone, so alone that we had to be careful that they were not affected by the antics of some of the professed who tried to tell them what to do, so that they would not leave the order, and we had to do no small amount of work in this regard (PA, c. I).

He went on to illustrate the rigours and penances that the professed wanted to inflict on the novices. The first novices were young men who could neither read nor write, and had little experience or wisdom..... All of this was the cause of a crisis for Fray Jerónimo: “... I was about to leave the Order and not make my profession on its account”. He persevered in Carmel, however, under the wise direction of Mother Isabel de Santo Domingo (PA, c. I).

His Commitment to the Reform

In Jerónimo Gracián there is a unity in his love for the Rule of Carmel and for the reform that Saint Teresa had begun, for the initial ideals and for the ability to achieve them in ways that were new and renewing. This convergence was an expression of the springtime that the Church was experiencing in the aftermath of the Council of Trent. In a certain sense, it is the same as we see in our own time. The Second Vatican Council reminded us that the Church is faithful to its vocation only by being reformed constantly,[2] and Pope Francis has noted:

There are ecclesial structures which can hamper efforts at evangelization, yet even good structures are only helpful when there is a life constantly driving, sustaining and assessing them. Without new life and an authentic evangelical spirit, without the Church’s ‘fidelity to her own calling’, any new structure will soon prove ineffective.[3]

Teresa was a woman who exercised the gift of friendship intensely. In the first meeting with Fr Jerónimo Gracián de la Madre de Dios, in Beas de Segura in 1575, we find a certain empathy, openness and confidentiality between them:

The master, Gracián, was here for twenty days ... I think well of him, and for us it were best that we ask God for him .... I can now stop worrying about the running of these houses, for such perfection with such gentility, I have never seen” (MC 81, to Mother Isabel de Santo Domingo, May 12th, 1575).

Following his profession, Jerónimo began to carry out tasks of some importance in the newly-born Reform of Carmel. Just a few months after his profession he was appointed Apostolic Visitator of the Carmelites in Andalucia: “Here I am, at 28 years of age, and a half year of profession, appointed the Prelate of the Carmelites in Andalucia, against the will of the General and Protector of the Calced Order” (PA c. I). In 1575, he would become the Apostolic Visitator of all the Carmelites in Andalucia, including the Discalced. At that time, he acted as the head of the Reform, the white-headed boy of Teresa of Jesus, to bring to completion the creation of the Discalced Province. In time, he would find himself in prison. In the end, and with the help of Philip II, a Brief from Rome confirmed the creation of the Discalced Province as part of the Carmelite Order. At the Chapter celebrated in Alcalá de Henares, in March 1581, Fr Jerónimo was elected Provincial of the Reformed Province. This is how he told the story:

The Fathers gathered for the Chapter in Alcalá; the province was set up; the laws were agreed; they elected me as their first Provincial, I governed the Province for my four years, opening houses of friars and nuns in the company of mother Teresa of Jesus, which involved all the ordinary work of travelling, doing business, writing letters, hearing confessions, preaching sermons and studying, etc. (PA, c. III).

On October 4th, 1582, Teresa died in Alba de Tormes: “Blessed be God, for giving me such a great friend, whose love, now in heaven, will not grow cold and I can be sure that it will be a great help to me” (PA, c. XVI). The reformer found in him, providentially, the person who would consolidate and direct all that she had begun. Writing about him, she said that he was “a man who was very well educated, with great understanding and modesty, graced by many virtues all his life, it seems as if Our Lady chose him for the good of this primitive Order”.[4] What was notable, in talking about his style of governing, was the combination of goodness and firmness:

His manner is pleasant which means that for the most part those who deal with him love him (a grace from the Lord), such that he is loved very much by those who are under him, both men and women, and while he does not forgive any fault – because in this he cared very much about the spread of devotion – he was always able to act with such a pleasing gentleness that no one ever had reason to complain about him.[5]

St Teresa confided in him, promising him obedience (CC 30, 3) and, thanks to this vow, Fr Jerónimo could ask her not only to open new monasteries but also to complete the writing of her book on the Foundations and to write about her spiritual life which she did in the Interior Castle. Similarly, out of obedience to him, Teresa posed for her portrait to be painted by Fray Juan de la Miseria, thus leaving behind the well-known portrait which has been handed down to us (cf. PA, c. XIII).

Jerónimo Gracián, for his part, followed the teaching of Teresa of Jesus. This gave him the imprint of the evolving charism, and became a source of great spiritual and human sustenance in his apostolic activity. Teresa’s regard for Jerónimo had many features that covered the spectrum from loving mother to grateful child. The intense correspondence that went between them is legendary (CC 29,1; 30,3) and his friendship provided a valve for Teresa: “I am happy that Fray Antonio is not with you, because, they tell me, when he sees so many letters of mine and none of them for him, he gets upset” (MC 170 to Padre Jerónimo Gracián, around December, 1576). Fr Gracián remembered it as well:

She shared her spirit with me, not hiding anything from me, and I did the same with her, revealing everything I had inside, and in that way we were certain that we were in agreement on everything that had to do with the task in hand and she, as well as her religious vow, made another vow of obedience to me for the rest of her life, because of a particular revelation that she received (PA, c. XIII).

Fr Jerónimo also gave of himself, by accepting all that she taught. Teresa gave him his dreams and, much more, his ideals and his charismatic commitment: that is why, as well as being a friend and confidante for him, she was also ‘mother’. Not only that, he found in her the master that guided him through the pathways of the interior life, inspiring his ministry to the friars and nuns of the Reform.

The Brothers say ‘No’

In Lisbon, in 1585, Fr Nicolas Doria was elected Provincial and Fr Gracián remained as Vicar Provincial. Then, later, he was elected as the Vicar Provincial of the new province of Mexico at the intermediate Chapter that was held in Valladolid in 1587. He could not leave with the fleet that sailed to the so-called West Indies, because in 1587 and in 1588 no fleet set sail. He would instead spend two years in Portugal at the request of Cardinal Alberto, the Viceroy of Portugal, and he became the Apostolic Visitator of the Portuguese Carmelites. He was called to Madrid in 1590 and this was the beginning of his Calvary. He would end up being expelled from the Discalced Carmelites on February 17th, 1592, among whom he had been the first provincial, after being accused of not being strict enough and of devoting more time to the apostolate than to the regular life and of having dishonest dealings with Maria de San José, formerly the prioress of Seville and, at that time, prioress of Lisbon.

They stripped Fr Jerónimo of his discalced habit which he had worn for twenty years, and dressed him in secular attire. “Finally they have taken away my habit, after a long period in prison. I was sorry that then they gave me a mantle and cassock of very good material, that belonged to a novice that had entered” (PA, c. IV). He finished by confessing the pain that he felt: “Only the one who has suffered it can tell what it is like, for one who entered the Discalced Order with the vocation with which I entered, and suffered so much to build the Province, and given the habit to the ones who now have taken it from me” (PA, c. IV). From that moment, he went back to being the priest, Don Jerónimo Gracián.

3.    The test of Fidelity – 1592-1596

The new stage in the life of Fr Jerónimo Gracián runs through a continuous pilgrimage, from one place to another, from one experience to another, passing through the quest for justice, the search for a place where he would be welcomed, and a bitter captivity in a strange land. This was a time of purification that was providential in that it helped him to centre himself in the heart of the Gospel, and in his religious life, helping to confirm his choosing to enter Carmel. In the most adverse situations, when things were falling apart, Fr Jerónimo always managed to look far ahead, by living in allegiance to Jesus Christ (Rule, Ch. 2) and by preaching the Gospel. Perhaps he is a more than significant witness for religious life today, in a time of crisis, and apparent disheartenment.

Later he would say that he asked the Lord for the “desire to suffer” and to carry a “naked and shameful cross” because “it appeared to him as the straightest and safest way to reach heaven” (PA, c. VIII). God heard his prayer. In time, he would say that the Lord did not delay in granting him what he had asked with such insistence: “Not long after this prayer I began to see that God was giving me his grace and was granting me all that I asked” (PA, c. VIII). Indeed, he came to know persecutions, displacement, fears, dangers, insults and other labours, that taught him a very sweet science: “that every virtue comes from the love of God and of neighbour and every virtue has that same love as its ultimate aim” (PA, c. XV). Fr Jerónimo discovered that we cannot decaffeinate the Gospel, and that anyone “who does not love the one who hates him is not a Christian,[6] because love for enemies is a fundamental law”[7] and “the supreme quintessence of virtue”.[8] In his Peregrinación he illustrates this with an example:

I thought of my adversaries as images of Christ .... If a tabernacle or a pyx of poor stone can contain the Most Blessed Sacrament, I would never not want to adore him and reverence him, even though I might like to see him dressed in gold and fine clothing. I know that God is in essence, presence and power in the one who persecutes me. Yes, I would love the tabernacle to be more beautiful, but I close my eyes to all that is outside and not to what is contained within (PA, c. XI).

Fr Jerónimo Gracián did not share the view of those who made a virtue out of strictness of observance, the banner of the reform and an end in itself. The conflict that led to his expulsion could be summed up in a paragraph that he left us in his writings:

Because there are spirits to whom it seems that all Carmelite perfection lies in not leaving their cell, or in never missing choir, even though the whole world may have gone up in flames, and that the good of the Order consisted in multiplying houses in the small towns and villages in Spain, and leaving the rest, and that think that every other way of thinking is restlessness and laxity. God did not lead me by this route, but rather by the way of saving souls; and in relation to the people that we employ in small places, we should begin with them to found houses in the more important cities in the different kingdoms for the real spread and benefit of the Order. And, as I talked about this many times and in great detail with Mother Teresa of Jesus, whose zeal was for the conversion of the whole world, this way of doing things stuck to me even more (PA, c. III).

One question went round and round in Gracián’s head: “Where is God?” The answer was clear: “there where love is uppermost” (PA, c. X). Gracián was faithful to the premise that “flexibility” is a good companion on the journey, that love is “creative” and that the one who does good is never lost.

Perseverance in the test: “Adam’s habit”

“Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine or nakedness or peril, or sword?” (Romans 8:35). Gracián’s pilgrimage continued with his journey to Rome to seek the protection of the Pope and he succeeded in speaking to Clement VIII. The Pontiff, through his secretaries, expressed the view that he should join another religious Order. He asked to join “the Capuchins, the Cistercians, the Discalced Franciscans, and all the other orders, asking to receive their habit: none would give it to me, and I saw myself rejected by every Order, as if I was the most despicable religious that you could find on the earth” (PA, c. V). He passed through Naples, and Sicily (where he stayed for eight months, helping out and hearing confessions in a hospital). On January 27th, 1593, the Pope wrote a Brief, Uberes fructus, in which he confirmed Fr Gracián’s expulsion from the Discalced Carmelites, ordering him to join the Augustinians or some other observant Order. He left the port of Gaeta to travel to Rome:

As I came to the end of Mass, in which – against the interior pressure that came from the Virgin Mary and from Teresa of Jesus never to leave their Order – I decided to join the Discalced Augustinians, as the wind began to die down, the ships, on account of that, began to slow (PA, c. V).

The Gospel proclaimed, by one in chains

God worked hard on Fr Jerónimo Gracián. He asked God for “humility” and life offered him more than enough “humiliations” and opportunities to demonstrate how right his petition was. One more episode was added to his turbulent biography: his captivity in Argel. In his Peregrinación, Gracián writes about his ups and downs, his interest in evangelising and, finally, his freedom. More than once, while spending a long spell in prison he was sure that he was going to be executed. Gracián, zealous as ever for the salvation of souls, did not waste time. He writes about the conversations he had, how he preached, heard confessions and helped in getting release for people in prison. In the midst of the torment and restrictions of his own imprisonment he recounts:

I heard the confessions of my captive Christians ... comforting them when they were beaten with a stick, pacifying their quarrels and visiting them when they were sick. If they wanted to cut somebody’s nose or ears, I would manage to get forgiveness with a little money, which I got faithfully from the same Christians (PA, c. VI).

In many ways, throughout his whole life, Jerónimo was devoted to the mission of evangelisation. During his four years as Provincial he gave a missionary and expansionary slant to the Province that he governed: thus he had houses opened in Genoa (1584), the Congo (1584) and in Mexico (1585). Despite being held in captivity, he still managed to preach the Gospel to his companions and his captors. Returning to the Order he was at the Pope’s disposal to take on any missionary expedition and he dedicated some of his writings to this. This missionary zeal came out of his great desire to “save souls” and to bring the Gospel to the ends of the earth. He said to Teresa that

sometimes it seemed to him that (a statue of the Blessed Virgin) had eyes that were swollen from weeping over the many offenses committed against her Son. As a result there arose in him a strong impulse and desire to help souls, and he felt it very deeply when he saw offenses committed against God. He has so great an inclination toward the good of souls that any hardship becomes small to him if he thinks that through it he can produce some fruit. I have seen this myself in the many trials that he has undergone.[9]

Teresa, evidently, did not imagine that still more trials awaited him, nor the greatness of spirit that he would show in them.

4.    In Mary’s Habit – 1596-1614

On April 11th, 1595, the Bajá of Tunisia signed his letter of freedom. He arrived in Genoa where began a new and final stage in his life which covered the last eighteen years, as a Carmelite (O.Carm.). Gracián himself recounts that he arrived in Rome, threw himself at the feet of the Pope and got his permission to return to wearing the Carmelite habit. That is what Gracián tells us, as he summed up in just a few lines all that happened in his life until he got to Belgium:

He ordered me to put on the habit of the (calced) Carmelites despite the fact that the conclusion of the Consultation was that I was not to wear any habit, neither Carmelite nor Discalced Carmelite. I spent a short time in San Martin in Montibus (sic) with the (calced) Carmelites. From there the Protector of my Order sent me to the home of Cardenal Deza, the protector in Spain. I worked for him for five years as a theologian, writing and printing books. From the memos that I had written to the Pope it emerged that to the Congregation of Cardinals of Propaganda Fide De and to the Pope it seemed that I should return to Africa with a mission that they gave me to bring the Jubilee of the Holy Year to the Christians in those places. I had letters from the King for the guards at the borders that they should afford me safe passage. I was present for my mother’s death. I went to Cueta, and from there to Tetuan: I accomplished my mission; I returned with orders to make peace between our King and the Jarife; it didn’t work. I came to the house in Madrid: from there I went to Valencia and Alicante and then back to Rome to report to Pope Clement VIII: God took him to himself; I remained preaching and printing books in Valencia. They sent me to Pamplona to preach for Lent. From there I came to Flanders (PA, c. VIII).

Fr Jerónimo – in his Peregrinación – never ceases to express his joy and contentment with the treatment he received in the Carmelite Order.

They showed great pleasure in seeing me wearing their habit. The General soon made me Master of the Order and they gave me the seniority that I would have had if I had made my profession with them when I made my profession with the Discalced, and I have held on to that always, which is no small thing for which to be thankful (PA, c. XIV).

While the time he spent with the Reform was particularly fruitful in terms of his work in governing, his time with the Ancient Observance was distinguished for his gifts as a preacher and prolific writer.[10] Jerónimo now wrote on behalf of prelates and of the Prior General of the Order and his works include everything from missionary activity to the history and spirituality of Carmel. On the instructions of Fr Enrique Silvio, then Prior General of the Order, elected in Rome in 1598, he wrote his famous commentary on the Rule of the Order – Della disciplina regolare[11] – to stimulate the members of the Order towards greater observance. At that time he was also working tirelessly on printing the writings of St Teresa into other languages and on promoting her beatification. Flanders was the last stop on his journey. There he finished the writing of his Peregrinación de Anastasio, Dialogues of the persecutions, works, tribulations and crosses that Fr Jerónimo Graacian de la Madre de Dios suffered.

Gracián arrived in Brussels in 1607. He would spend the next years alternating an eremitical life, in a hermitage in the garden of the house, with his preaching and hearing confessions and working with the Discalced Carmelites who were beginning to open houses in that country. He had the joy of being alive when Mother Teresa of Jesus was beatified on April 24th, 1614, by Paul V. On September 21st, 1614, at six o’clock in the evening of that Sunday, Jerónimo Gracián died, a Carmelite. We have to include in his missionary activities the publication of the works of Teresa in Protestant areas, as well as his own works: Diez lamentaciones del miserable estado de los ateístas[12] (Ten Lamentations of the Miserable Condition of Atheists) and Leviatán engañoso, suma de algunos engaños[13] (The Deceitful Leviathan: an Account of Some Deceits). Just like Teresa, he wanted to respond, in a certain sense, to the schism that was created in the Church by the Lutheran separation, by opening monasteries in which there would be faithful and joyful witness to the Gospel. Jerónimo, through the diffusion of Teresa’s teaching, had the intention of offering a model of life transfigured by the Gospel and at the service of the Church.

Conclusion: victoria amoris – the victory of love (PA, c. x)

Clothe the naked is the first work of mercy according to the Hebrew tradition (cf. Matthew 25:36). Fr Jerónimo Gracián spent his whole life looking for clothes to put on: “I received the Discalced habit”; “they dressed me up in secular dress”; “they gave me a cloak and cassock of the finest material”; “they made me wear the habit of wretchedness”; “I saw that I was naked and I put on my new Adam’s suit”; “they gave me once again the calced habit”, etc. At the end of his life, with wisdom and discernment, he was able to say: God is well able to see that there is as much fruit from one habit as from another, as my own experience has shown me (PA, c. XVI). The ‘habit’ that he received went beyond his expectations: it was not an external garment, but an interior one. Gracián, just like Joseph in the book of Genesis, was stripped of his cloak (Genesis 37:3, 23, 31; 39:12; 41:14) in order to put on the “cloak of fine linen” (cf. Genesis 41:42) Linen, in order to be woven and become softer and more bright and luminous, has to be beaten and pounded. The linens are the good works of the saints ... (Acts 19:8). The epitaph of a Jewish rabbi illustrates what Jerónimo Gracián went through: “For every good work that a man does on the earth, a thread of light lights up in the heavens. Many good works make many threads. Why? In order to weave a garment of light. A garment of light that gives glory to the Master of the works”. A ‘garment of light’ made from threads of mercy, goodness, humility, meekness, patience, forgiveness, peace, and the love which binds everything together in perfect harmony (cf. Colossians 3:12-15).

Fr Jerónimo Gracián invites us to become craftsmen and craftswomen of peace and reconciliation, so that, seeing our good works, the Father who is in heaven may be glorified (Matthew 5:16). Gracián’s peregrinación (pilgrimage) is the expression of a deeper spiritual journey, which is a response to the love that God poured into his heart through our Blessed Mother, in his desire to take on the Rule of Carmel in accordance with the teachings of Teresa of Jesus and his passionate desire to give himself to others for their salvation. This victoria amoris – victory of love – (PA c. X) lived, above all, in moments of tension, was an ecstasy of love for him, but not in the sense of a momentary flash, but as something permanent, a going out from the “I” closed in on itself, towards the liberation that comes from committing oneself and by so doing comes to find oneself again, and even more, to find God.[14] In Gracián’s pilgrimage we begin to see the pilgrimage of every disciple, and for that reason, our pilgrimage too, as we endeavour to follow that same path marked out by Jesus “which, through the cross brings him to the resurrection; the route of the grain of wheat that falls on the ground and dies, and so gives abundant fruit.”[15] We give thanks to God because we can reap the fruit of the witness and the message that our brother Jerónimo Gracián has left us.

Fernando Millán Romeral, O.Carm., Prior General

Saverio Cannistrà, O.C.D., Provost General

 


[1]     Jerónimo Gracián de la Madre de Dios: Peregrinación de Anastasio. Ed. Juan Luis Astigarraga. Roma: 2001. Hereafter: PA with the number of the chapter.

[2]     Cf. Unitatis Redintegratio, 6; Lumen Gentium, 8; Gaudium et Spes, 21.

[3]     Pope Francis: Evangelii Gaudium, 26.

[4]     Teresa de Jesús: Foundations 23, 1.

[5]     Ibid, Foundations 23, 7.

[6]     2 Epistle of Clement, 13ss.

[7]     Tertulian: Tract on Patience, 6.

[8]     John Chrysostom: Sermons on the Gospel according to Matthew, 18, 3.

[9]     Teresa de Jesús: Foundations 23, 5.

[10]    Nicolás Antonio: Bibliotheca Nova Hispana. Madrid: 1684.

[11]    Fr Jerónimo Gracián: Della Disciplina Regolare. Venice: 1600.

[12]    Fr Jerónimo Gracián: Diez lamentaciones del miserable estado de los ateístas. Brussels: 1611.

[13]    Fr Jerónimo Gracián: Leviathan engañoso, suma de algunos engaños. Brussels: 1614.

[14]    Pope Benedict XVI: Deus caritas est, 6.

[15]    Ibid, 6.

Sunday, 25 October 2015 18:34

Rediscovering Teresa of Avila: A Lay Perspective

Written by

Angela Blardony Ureta, A.O.Carm

Today, we commemorate the feast day of one of the most remarkable women to have ever walked the earth, a Spanish contemplative nun who lived and died well over four centuries ago but whose words and deeds continue to impact us, especially those who have chosen to heed the silent call of Carmel.

Much had been said about Teresa of Avila – the great leader, mystic and reformer of the fifteenth century. Renowned scholars have written volumes of books and papers over the centuries about the depth of her theology and the complexity of her spiritual life. As one of the Church’s most popular and influential saints, she has inspired men and women to enter the religious life – particularly the monasteries and cloisters of Carmel – and to pursue a life dedicated to intimately knowing God. And from these followers of the great Teresa, there have been many martyrs, beatos and saints whom we now look up to as models of faith.

For us who are lay Carmelites, Teresa seems to be a more distant and looming figure than the “little flower” Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, who is certainly a favourite patroness of millions all over the world, or perhaps the more contemporary personages like twentieth century Carmelites Blessed Titus Brandsma and Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross (Edith Stein).

What Saint Thérèse of the Child Jesus, Blessed Titus Brandsma and Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross have in common is that they were all great admirers of Teresa of Avila, whose impassioned writings had greatly influenced their own vocation and spirituality.

From a lay perspective, especially for us who are neither scholars nor theologians, who is Teresa of Avila? How do we demystify her? How do we make her accessible and relevant to our daily lives?

As a media practitioner, I believe that the biggest challenge we face when introducing a subject is making our topic understood by all – because the nature of mass media is that you cannot choose your audience.

So how do we propose to speak about Teresa of Avila today? By talking less about the illustrious and lofty saint, and more about the witty and sensible woman who was, by and large, a product of her times. We have to see Teresa from the background of her historical, social, cultural and political milieu in order to understand her better and appreciate her spirituality, which ripened over time in the context of her personal human experiences.

Teresa in history: Born at a crossroads of time

Teresa Sánchez de Cepeda y Ahumada was born within the fabled walls of Avila on March 28, 1515. At that time, Europe ruled the world and the Holy Roman Empire ruled the crowned heads of the continent. The West was expanding into Asia and the Americas, hoisting the cross on one hand and the sword on the other.

The person that was Teresa had been shaped primarily by the historical, political, cultural and religious landscape in which she lived. She was born at a crossroads in history, when the world teetered between the Renaissance Period and the Age of Discovery and Exploration. Like the promise of springtime after the long winter that was the Dark Ages, the Renaissance signified ‘rebirth’, a widespread reform in intellectual and artistic pursuits, which saw the historical world move from darkness to light, from ignorance to enlightenment. Emboldened by their newfound skills and knowledge, the kingdoms of Europe ventured into distant territories in a zealous (and often brutal) mission to claim souls for Christ and gold for the crown.

During this period, Spain and Portugal led Europe in exploring the world’s seas and in opening oceanic trade routes. Large parts of the New World became Spanish and Portuguese colonies. Meanwhile, the Protestant Reformation gave a major blow to the authority of the Papacy and the Roman Catholic Church, as religious conflicts came to dominate politics. In the Middle East, the Ottoman Empire continued to expand, threatening the Christian colonizers. In the world of arts and sciences, the prodigious Italian painter Michaelangelo finished painting the Sistine Chapel, while Polish astronomer Nicolaus Copernicus proposed a ‘heliocentric’ (sun-centred) universe but was met with strong resistance, although later proven to be correct.

Teresa was a product of this scholarly period; she could read and write, rare for women of her time. Born only 23 years after Christopher Columbus’ sail to Hispaniola under the Spanish flag, her life was in many ways intertwined with the early history of the Hispanic New World. She had at least two brothers who served as conquistadores in Peru, conquered by Francisco Pizzaro in 1533. And growing up hearing stories about the quest for gold and adventure in the New World, she harboured an intense desire to learn, to explore, to conquer the infidels and to die for the faith.

In 1542, the Roman Inquisition began, the same year that both Juan de Yepes y Alvarez (later known as John of the Cross) and Leonardo da Vinci were born. Teresa was then 27. (Two years earlier, the Society of Jesus was founded by her fellow Spaniard, Ignatius of Loyola, and in England, the apostate Henry VIII was king.)

Also in 1542, Conquistador Ruy Lopez de Villalobos sailed from Mexico on the route of Ferdinand Magellan, and reached land on the other side of the globe four months later; he named the new colony ‘Las Islas Filipinas’ in honour of the prince, Don Felipe de Asturias.

By 1562, Teresa had begun reforming Carmel with John of the Cross – just two years before, Galileo Galilei and William Shakespeare were born. In 1582, the year she died at Alba de Tormes, Pope Gregory XIII introduced the new Christian Calendar. The day she passed away – October 4 – was the last Julian day in pontifical states, including Spain. This is why we now celebrate her Feast Day on October 15.

From these few examples we can see that throughout her entire life, Teresa lived in a world that was changing rapidly, even if societies and cultures struggled against transformation. Despite the world opening up around them, she lived in a land where social customs and religious traditions continued to be inflexible, and where she was often criticized for her non-conformist ways and revolutionary thinking. If not for her inborn charisma and irrepressible wit, this feisty nun would have ended up in the unforgiving flames of the Inquisition instead of founding convents. But such was not her fate.

In 1622, forty years after her death, she was canonized by Pope Gregory XV, and in 1970 named the first female Doctor of the Church by Pope Paul VI. She wrote books which include her autobiography, The Life of Teresa of Jesus, and her seminal work, El Castillo Interior (The Interior Castle) – now integral components of Spanish Renaissance literature as well as of Christian mysticism and Christian meditation practices, as she teaches us in her other important work Camino de Perfección (The Way of Perfection).

She is one of the patron saints of Spain and is the special protector of people with bodily ills and headaches, of lace makers, orphans, people in need of grace, women in Religious Orders, and individuals who are ridiculed for their piety.

A saint but not an angel

Many accounts on her life and works describe Teresa as an astute religious reformer and administrator, an inspired spiritual director, and an extraordinary mystical writer. Truly, she was a saint… but definitely, she was no angel.

The first forty years of Teresa’s life give no clue to the rich depth and productivity of the second half of her life. Her grandfather was a converted Jew who climbed his way into the aristocracy by marrying well; so did her own father. Motherless at age 14 and spoiled by a doting father, she was a vain, vivacious, exquisitely stylish young lady who was the centre of attention of any social function. She was known to be an excellent singer and dancer, and held everyone enthralled by her smart conversation. As she herself admitted in her later writings, she also liked to flirt with the young men who paid her court, so much so that she became so infatuated with a handsome cousin at age 16, prompting her father to pack her off to an Augustinian convent where she had limited access to male company.

Teresa was certainly unlike most privileged young ladies of her time. Raised at par with her male siblings, she was given basic education and was allowed to think for herself. Early on, she was able to make life choices that determined her future – a concession not available to the average sixteenth century woman. She knew she did not want to enter into an arranged marriage (as was the custom then) but neither did she wish to become a sorry spinster. So at age 21, against her father’s wishes, she professed vows as a Carmelite at the Convent of the Incarnation in Avila.

The convent was known for its leniency, permitting close personal relationships with those outside the convent and allowing worldly possessions within. Being overpopulated but penniless, the convent encouraged contact with the outside world, so as to bring in donations and alms for the nuns. At its parlour the lively aristocrat from Avila was, of course, one of those often called to amuse guests or to console capricious matrons.

Even inside the Incarnation, she used her noble title ‘Dona Teresa de Ahumada’. Enjoying the convent’s indulgences, she waned in her Christian devotion. Then she was forced by a serious, prolonged illness (worsened by partial paralysis from an attempted cure) to spend three years in relative quiet. She read books on the spiritual life. When she recovered and returned to the convent she resumed what to her later seemed only a half-hearted spirituality. Of these years, she wrote in her autobiography, “I voyaged on this tempestuous sea for almost twenty years with these fallings and risings”.[1]

When she was nearly 40, Teresa – who had found it hard to pray for the last two decades – had a profound religious experience. One day, while walking down a hallway in the convent, her glance fell on an image of Christ being scourged at the pillar. Almost instantly, her heart was pierced by the vision of his constant love throughout her desert period of infidelity.

As she said later, Jesus gently but powerfully revealed the cause of her spiritual collapse: her daily exposure to the trivial yet burdensome delights of sin. She wept all night and immediately broke with her past, undergoing a final conversion. After this, she began experiencing the profound mystical raptures that would cause her so much pain and ridicule, but at the same time, would bring her unspeakable joy and ecstasy as her existence became increasingly difficult.

In the last 20 years of her life, Teresa gave herself completely to personal spiritual growth and the renewal of the Carmelite monasteries. She spent her last years traveling the countryside establishing reformed (or ‘discalced’, meaning ‘unshod’, that is, ‘more simple’) Carmelite convents. She founded fourteen monasteries and died, quite literally, in the line of duty. On yet another mission of service at Alba de Tormes, her body exhausted and worn out by a lingering illness that led to profuse bleeding, Madre Teresa de Jesus died reciting verses from the Song of Songs.

 

Teresa in relation to other saints and great thinkers          

In 1562, Teresa met Fray Pedro de Alcántara, a Franciscan reformer whose saintliness inspired her to confide in him as her spiritual guide. Inspired by his attempt to restore his Order to its original barefoot poverty, Teresa took it upon herself to reform the Carmelites along similar lines.

In Salamanca she chose Padre Domingo de Bañez, an eminent Dominican theologian and an exponent and defender of Thomistic doctrine, as her director and confessor, showing her acute intellect and confidence even in the company of learned men.

In 1567, she met the young John of the Cross, whom she enlisted to extend her reform into the male side of the Carmelite Order. Inspired by the Spirit, she immediately talked to him about her reformation projects even if he was then just newly ordained and almost three decades her junior. She asked him to give up his entry into the Carthusians.

Meanwhile, saints from future generations like Francis de Sales and Alphonsus Liguori, both Doctors of the Church, not only greatly admired Teresa, but turned to her works for enlightenment and inspiration.

Philosopher Edith Stein went from being born a Jew to becoming an atheist and eventually, to conversion to the Roman Catholic Church after reading Saint Teresa’s autobiography. Stein became a Carmelite nun but was murdered by Nazis for her Jewish heritage in the gas chambers of Auschwitz during World War II. We now know her as Saint Teresa Benedicta of the Cross.

 

Teresa and the gift of ‘holy wit’

“From silly devotions and sour-faced saints, O Lord, deliver us!” This is probably one of the most popular quotes attributed to Teresa, one that tells us in one humorous yet evocative line her philosophy for life and faith.

Teresa mastered the art of living lightly and well; her devotion to Jesus Christ was matched only by her zest for life and her unbridled sense of humour. She prayed a lot, she laughed a lot.

Once when praying about her many trials and sufferings, she thought she heard God say, “But this is how I treat my friends.” With characteristic petulance, Teresa replied, “No wonder you have so few...”

A healthy sense of humour allows us to break but not shatter. Teresa had many outstanding qualities as a religious reformer and spiritual director, but for this lecture we narrow our focus in order to enjoy and profit from one of her most outstanding – though often overlooked – gifts: the ability to live by ‘holy wit’.

Teresa had her eyes focused on heaven while her feet remained firmly planted on the ground. She exhibited the twin qualities of humility and humour – a woman of many healthy contradictions that made her whole. She believed that finding the lighter side of things can also be holy if you are doing it to achieve God’s work.

Doing God’s work requires hard work and virtue: concern for others expressed in deeds and not mere talk; ego annihilation through a hardy obedience and detachment from self-satisfaction; trust and humility “in the presence of infinite Wisdom”. We must have a good sense of humour as well as a healthy dose of common sense.

     Indulgent yet austere, Teresa knew both pleasure and penance. She loved giving and receiving gifts, but also lived very simply in daily life. The story is told of her being invited to dinner at a patron’s house and of a guest making a snide remark about the nun enthusiastically devouring a partridge. She was said to have exclaimed: “When I fast, I fast; and when I eat partridge, I eat partridge!”

Yet Teresa was very vigilant against being selfish and self-indulgent, fussing about her health, her need for rest, her desire for tranquillity and order. She advised her young nuns to take care of their health but not to give in to every little malady, or else “the body grows fat and the soul weakens”.

She was idealistic, but also very practical, sensible and down to earth. “God deliver me from people so spiritual they want to turn everything into perfect contemplation,” she once said in relation to the extreme discipline and lack of mirth of a young friar.

Teresa, who dreamed big and always saw the positive side of any situation, also knew how to lighten the load by not taking everything seriously. As she quipped to a young nun who wanted to stifle any entertaining comments that occurred to her during recreation time: “It is bad enough… to be stupid by nature without trying to be stupid by grace.”

She had a romantic nature that was tempered by a clear and rational mind… and also a sharp tongue. To a prioress who complained of a nun’s love for books, her spiky reply was, “Better a bookworm than a fool!” On another occasion, when some of her contemplative nuns complained about doing manual work, she gave her now famous quotation: “Know that if it (the work) is in the kitchen, the Lord walks among the pots and pans.”

And in The Way of Perfection, she gives a clear example on why sensible action is just as important as pious contemplation:

“Saint Martha was holy, but we are not told that she was a contemplative. If she had been absorbed in devotion all the time, as Magdalene was, there would have been no one to prepare a meal for the Divine Guest.”

Teresa and prayer

Prayer, for Teresa, is a “solitary converse, with Him who we know loves us”. She was a renowned mystic, yet remained pragmatic.  She took supernatural occurrence with down-to-earth humour and slight scepticism of the ‘here and now’.

Teresa underlined the need to cultivate lofty thoughts, which are greatly helped by spiritual guidance from a suitable confessor, reading spiritual books, and the regular practice of prayer. She saw prayer not as a passive activity but as a rugged and robust exercise. And like any exercise, you have to do it religiously and without fail, whether you like it or not. For those times when we feel empty or unsure, she recommends a simple and highly personal method: “Look at Christ who is looking at you.”

Although she was the life of any conversation, Teresa was known to spend long hours in prayer and silence. On one occasion, she heard how some of her nuns were warned by hostile priests not to engage in deep contemplation as they may be “tricked by the enemy”. To this, the unfazed foundress retorted: “Prayer is the duty of the religious, God forbid that it should be dangerous. Cease troubling about these fears. This is not the time to believe everyone; believe only those whom you see modelling their lives on the life of Christ.”

For Teresa, prayer is the source of Christian life and the wellspring of all moral virtues. Prayer is not everything, but without prayer, nothing else is possible. Under this umbrella of prayer, God works in mysterious, often unpredictable, ways, and the soul works strongly.

Her understanding of disengagement from the world is not necessarily ascetic. On the contrary, her idea of genuine suffering comes from being fully present in the world and serving others. Spiritual progress is measured neither by self-imposed penance nor by the sweetest pleasures of mystical experiences but by growth in constant love for others and an increasing desire within for the will of God.[2]

As she wrote in Life:

“God and the soul understand each other… It’s like the experience of two persons here on earth who love each other deeply and understand each other well.”

Keeping our gaze on God

Like men and women of our generation, Teresa of Avila suffered from bouts of despair, especially as she was forced by age to weaken and slow down. “There come days in which one word alone distresses me, and I would want to leave the world because it seems everything is a bother to me,” she confesses in her memoirs.

Despite the eminent stature she occupies in the Church today, we have to remember that while she was founding her reformed convents, Teresa was actually a sickly old woman who travelled great lengths on rough roads and bad weather, often with little food and even less sleep.

In her writings Teresa openly talked about her failing health, her memory loss, her inability to do what she was instructed, even her shortcomings as an author. As she narrates and itemizes her own weakness, she calls herself “gloomy” and “ill-tempered” and admits that she often gets so angry she wants to “eat everyone up, without being able to help it”. As her disillusionment grows, she describes herself as a “helpless little bird with broken wings” or “a stupid little donkey grazing”.

Whether lay or religious, we are likely to reach a stage in our lives and in our work when we no longer feel as capable or as effective as we were years back. Or, we begin to question why we are doing these things in the first place – what have we accomplished that is of any relevance to the world?

Discouragement quickly follows, as we no longer understand ourselves and our real motivations. We become weak and cowardly on the moral level and see that “our natural bent is toward the worst rather than the best”. We find ourselves so physically limited and incapable of greatness that we are even greatly affected by “changes in the weather and the rotating of the bodily humours”.

All around us and in ourselves we see deception, duplicity, and lies. As Teresa notes, the world is a mockery, a joke, “as good as a play”. We are stunned by our experience of impermanence, instability and insecurity. We try to protect ourselves because we are afraid of the truth that haunts our sleeping and sometimes even our waking hours, the truth that the Buddhist and Hindu traditions call samsara: Everything changes, passes, and dies—and so will we. But as Teresa wrote in her famous bookmark prayer: “Todo se pasa” – all things are passing. “Solo Dios basta” – God alone suffices!

Teresa continues to inspire us even four centuries after her death. Her teaching has the power to see us through a lifetime and will endure hundreds of years after us, because the wisdom she shares is timeless and perennial.

Wherever you find yourself today, whether you are delighted or disillusioned, filled with wonder or wounded, shining or shattered in this modern world that is constantly changing and moving rapidly towards its own destruction, Teresa has a word of wisdom just for you: “All our troubles come from not keeping our eyes on Christ!”

 

References

Auclair, M.: Teresa of Avila. New York: Pantheon Books. 2004.

Hutchison, G.: Teresa of Avila: Living by Holy Wit. Cincinnati: St. Anthony Messenger Press. 1999.

Smith, J.V.: The Way of Perfection: A Simplified Version. Manila: National Book Store Publishers. 1977.

ChristianHistory.net: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ch/131christians/innertravelers/avila.html?start=2

 


[1]        http://www.christianitytoday.com/ch/131christians/innertravelers/

         avila.html

[2]        http://www.christianitytoday.com/ch/131christians/innertravelers/

         avila.html?start=2

Sunday, 25 October 2015 18:02

The Closing of St. Teresa’s Centenary

Written by
No:
83/2015-21-10

On the 15th of October, the feast of St. Teresa, a solemn Eucharist was celebrated in Avila to mark the closing of the 5th Centenary of the birth of the Carmelite saint. The Archbishop of Valladolid and President of the Spanish Bishops’ Conference, Ricardo Blásquez, led the celebration, with many bishops and priests concelebrating. The concelebrants included the Prior General, Fr. Fernando Millán Romeral, O.Carm., and the Superior General of the Discalced Carmelites, Fr. Saverio Cannistrà, O.C.D., Following the Eucharist, the participants walked in procession with the statue of St.Teresa to the church on the site where she was born. 

Among the many participants there was a group of pilgrims from Australia, led by Dennis Andrews, O.Carm, the Provincial of Australia and Timor Leste, Fr. Greg Burke. O.C.D. and Paul Sireh, O.Carm.

While the Prior General was in Avila he took time out to visit the Monastery of Fontiveros (John of the Cross’ birthplace) and the interprovincial novitiate community in Salamanca, where he gave a talk on what is happening in the Order, to a very sizeable group of novices.  The previous evening the novices led a prayer vigil in the church of the Discalced Carmelites in Salamanca.

As well as that, in the monastery of the Discalced nuns in Alba de Tormes, on the 14th of October a solemn novena began to mark the closing of the Centenary. Fr. Alejandro López-Lapuente, O.Carm., from the community in Salamanca, led the celebration of the Eucharist and preached on the 14th and 16th of October. 

Thursday, 15 October 2015 21:37

Electoral Chapter of the Monastery of Paranavaí, Brazil

Written by
No:
82/2015-14-10

The Elective Chapter of the Carmelite Monastery of Paranavaí, Brazil, was held 10 October 2015. The following were elected:

  • Prioress:  Sr. Derly de Paula Moreira, O.Carm.
  • 1st Councilor:   Sr. Edna Maria Lopes de Sousa, O.Carm.
  • 2nd Councilor:  Sr. Maria do Carmo da Conceição , O.Carm.
  • Director of Novices:  Sr. Edna Maria Lopes de Sousa, O.Carm.
  • Treasurer:  Sr. Edna Maria Lopes de Sousa, O.Carm.
  • Sacristan:  Sr. Derly de Paula Moreira, O.Carm.
Wednesday, 07 October 2015 09:29

Formation Activities In The Americas

Written by
No:
79/2015-05-10

From July 23 to August 9 in Lima, Peru, a formation course was carried out for students and young formators in the Americas. The meeting covered issues in the field of academics, spirituality and psychology, as well as workshops on leadership, several pastoral experiences in poor areas of Lima and some cultural visits. Keynote speakers were John Welch, O. Carm., USA; and Carlos Mesters, O.Carm., Brazil, who spoke of the great Carmelite saints and the great figures of Mary, Elijah and Elisha. This first course was organized by Raul Maraví, O. Carm., General Councilor of the Americas, at the request of superiors, commissaries and delegates from the Americas. This meeting was attended by 23 friars from 10 different nations in the hemisphere, who enjoyed the internationality of the Order and a great fraternal atmosphere.

Also, from 26 to 31 October, the IV ALACAR Congress will be held in San Salvador, El Salvador (Central America), bringing together representatives of the O.Carm. and OCD families of Latin America: friars, nuns, religious and laity. The conference will focus in Saint Teresa of  Jesus on the occasion of the V centenary of her birth. Both Fr. Fernando Millán Romeral, O.Carm., Prior General of the Carmelite Order, and Fr. Saverio Cannistrà, OCD, Superior General of the Discalced Carmelites, will be speakers at this important gathering.

Sunday, 04 October 2015 18:14

Lectio Divina October 2015

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Pope’s Prayer Intentions for October 2015

Universal: Human trafficking - That human trafficking, the modern form of slavery, may be eradicated.

Evangelization: Mission in Asia - That with a missionary spirit the Christian communities of Asia may announce the Gospel to those who are still awaiting it.

Lectio Divina October - Octubre - Ottobre 2015

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Monday, 28 September 2015 09:50

Electoral Chapter of the Monastery of Carpineto Romano, Italy

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No:
77/2015-22-09

The Elective Chapter of the Carmelite Monastery of Carpineto Romano, Italy, was held 21 September 2015. The following were elected:

  • Prioress:  Sr. M. Noemi Malagesi, O.Carm.
  • 1st Councilor:   Sr. M. Paola Ricci, O.Carm.
  • 2nd Councilor:  Sr. M. Valentina Rossin, O.Carm.
  • 3rd Councilor:   Sr. M. Rosa Fois, O.Carm.
  • 4th Couniclor:   Sr. M. Carla Zinno, O.Carm.
  • Director of Novices:  Sr. M. Valentina Rossin, O.Carm.
  • Treasurer:  Sr. Anna Luisa Voltazza, O.Carm.
  • Sacristan:  Sr. M. Mihaela Catana, O.Carm.
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