Chapter XXXIX.

Other Graces Bestowed on the Saint. The Promises of Our Lord

to Her. Divine Locutions and Visions.

1. I was once importuning our Lord exceedingly to restore the

sight of a person who had claims upon me, and who was almost

wholly blind. I was very sorry for him, and afraid our Lord

would not hear me because of my sins. He appeared to me as at

other times, and began to show the wound in His left hand; with

the other He drew out the great nail that was in it, and it

seemed to me that, in drawing the nail, He tore the flesh.

The greatness of the pain was manifest, and I was very much

distressed thereat. He said to me, that He who had borne that

for my sake would still more readily grant what I asked Him, and

that I was not to have any doubts about it. He promised me there

was nothing I should ask that He would not grant; that He knew I

should ask nothing that was not for His glory, and that He would

grant me what I was now praying for. Even during the time when I

did not serve Him, I should find, if I considered it, I had asked

nothing that He had not granted in an ampler manner than I had

known how to ask; how much more amply still would He grant what I

asked for, now that He knew I loved Him! I was not to doubt.

I do not think that eight days passed before our Lord restored

that person to sight. My confessor knew it forthwith. It might

be that it was not owing to my prayer; but, as I had had the

vision, I have a certain conviction that it was a grace accorded

to me. I gave thanks to His Majesty.

2. Again, a person was exceedingly ill of a most painful disease;

but, as I do not know what it was, I do not describe it by its

name here. What he had gone through for two months was beyond

all endurance; and his pain was so great that he tore his own

flesh. My confessor, the rector of whom I have spoken, [1] went

to see him; he was very sorry for him, and told me that I must

anyhow go myself and visit him; he was one whom I might visit,

for he was my kinsman. I went, and was moved to such a tender

compassion for him that I began, with the utmost importunity, to

ask our Lord to restore him to health. Herein I saw clearly how

gracious our Lord was to me, so far as I could judge; for

immediately, the next day, he was completely rid of that pain.

3. I was once in the deepest distress, because I knew that a

person to whom I was under great obligations was about to commit

an act highly offensive to God and dishonourable to himself.

He was determined upon it. I was so much harassed by this that I

did not know what to do in order to change his purpose; and it

seemed to me as if nothing could be done. I implored God, from

the bottom of my heart, to find a way to hinder it; but till I

found it I could find no relief for the pain I felt. In my

distress, I went to a very lonely hermitage,--one of those

belonging to this monastery,--in which there is a picture of

Christ bound to the pillar; and there, as I was imploring our

Lord to grant me this grace, I heard a voice of exceeding

gentleness, speaking, as it were, in a whisper. [2] My whole

body trembled, for it made me afraid. I wished to understand

what was said, but I could not, for it all passed away in

a moment.

4. When my fears had subsided, and that was immediately, I became

conscious of an inward calmness, a joy and delight, which made me

marvel how the mere hearing a voice,--I heard it with my bodily

ears,--without understanding a word, could have such an effect on

the soul. I saw by this that my prayer was granted; and so it

was; and I was freed from my anxieties about a matter not yet

accomplished, as it afterwards was, as completely as if I saw it

done. I told my confessors of it, for I had two at this time,

both of them learned men, and great servants of God.

5. I knew of a person who had resolved to serve God in all

earnestness, and had for some days given himself to prayer, in

which he bad received many graces from our Lord, but who had

abandoned his good resolutions because of certain occasions of

sin in which he was involved, and which he would not avoid; they

were extremely perilous. This caused me the utmost distress,

because the person was one for whom I had a great affection, and

one to whom I owed much. For more than a month I believe I did

nothing else but pray to God for his conversion. One day, when I

was in prayer, I saw a devil close by in a great rage, tearing to

pieces some paper which he had in his hands. That sight consoled

me greatly, because it seemed that my prayer had been heard.

So it was, as I learnt afterwards; for that person had made his

confession with great contrition, and returned to God so

sincerely, that I trust in His Majesty he will always advance

further and further. May He be blessed for ever! Amen.

6. In answer to my prayers, our Lord has very often rescued souls

from mortal sins and led others on to greater perfection. But as

to the delivering of souls out of purgatory, and other remarkable

acts, so many are the mercies of our Lord herein, that were I to

speak of them I should only weary myself and my reader. But He

has done more by me for the salvation of souls than for the

health of the body. This is very well known, and there are many

to bear witness to it.

7. At first it made me scrupulous, because I could not help

thinking that our Lord did these things in answer to my prayer; I

say nothing of the chief reason of all--His pure compassion. But

now these graces are so many, and so well known to others, that

it gives me no pain to think so. I bless His Majesty, and abase

myself, because I am still more deeply in His debt; and I believe

that He makes my desire to serve Him grow, and my love revive.

8. But what amazes me most is this: however much I may wish to

pray for those graces which our Lord sees not to be expedient, I

cannot do it; and if I try, I do so with little earnestness,

force, and spirit: it is impossible to do more, even if I would.

But it is not so as to those which His Majesty intends to grant.

These I can pray for constantly, and with great importunity;

though I do not carry them in my memory, they seem to present

themselves to me at once. [3]

9. There is a great difference between these two ways of praying,

and I know not how to explain it. As to the first, when I pray

for those graces which our Lord does not mean to grant,--even

though they concern me very nearly,--I am like one whose tongue

is tied; who, though he would speak, yet cannot; or, if he

speaks, sees that people do not listen to him. And yet I do not

fail to force myself to pray, though not conscious of that

fervour which I have when praying for those graces which our Lord

intends to give. In the second case, I am like one who speaks

clearly and intelligibly to another, whom he sees to be a

willing listener.

10. The prayer that is not to be heard is, so to speak, like

vocal prayer; the other is a prayer of contemplation so high that

our Lord shows Himself in such a way as to make us feel He hears

us, and that He delights in our prayer, and that He is about to

grant our petition. Blessed be He for ever who gives me so much

and to whom I give so little! For what is he worth, O my Lord,

who does not utterly abase himself to nothing for Thee? How

much, how much, how much,--I might say so a thousand times,--I

fall short of this! It is on this account that I do not wish to

live,--though there be other reasons also,--because I do not live

according to the obligations which bind me to Thee.

What imperfections I trace in myself! what remissness in Thy

service! Certainly, I could wish occasionally I had no sense,

that I might be unconscious of the great evil that is in me.

May He who can do all things help me!

11. When I was staying in the house of that lady of whom I have

spoken before, [4] it was necessary for me to be very watchful

over myself, and keep continually in mind the intrinsic vanity of

all the things of this life, because of the great esteem I was

held in, and of the praises bestowed on me. There was much there

to which I might have become attached, if I had looked only to

myself; but I looked to Him who sees things as they really are,

not to let me go out of His hand. Now that I speak of seeing

things as they really are, I remember how great a trial it is for

those to whom God has granted a true insight into the things of

earth to have to discuss them with others. They wear so many

disguises, as our Lord once told me,--and much of what I am

saying of them is not from myself, but rather what my Heavenly

Master has taught me; and therefore, in speaking of them, when I

say distinctly I understood this, or our Lord told me this, I am

very scrupulous neither to add nor to take away one single

syllable; so, when I do not clearly remember everything exactly,

that must be taken as coming from myself, and some things,

perhaps, are so altogether. I do not call mine that which is

good, for I know there is no other good in me but only that which

our Lord gave me when I was so far from deserving it: I call that

mine which I speak without having had it made known to me

by revelation.

12. But, O my God, how is it that we too often judge even

spiritual things, as we do those of the world, by our own

understanding, wresting them grievously from their true meaning?

We think we may measure our progress by the years which we have

given to the exercise of prayer; we even think we can prescribe

limits to Him who bestows His gifts not by measure [5] when He

wills, and who in six months can give to one more than to another

in many years. This is a fact which I have so frequently

observed in many persons, that I am surprised how any of us can

deny it.

13. I am certainly convinced that he will not remain under this

delusion who possesses the gift of discerning spirits, and to

whom our Lord has given real humility; for such a one will judge

of them by the fruits, by the good resolutions and love,--and our

Lord gives him light to understand the matter; and herein He

regards the progress and advancement of souls, not the years they

may have spent in prayer; for one person may make greater

progress in six months than another in twenty years, because, as

I said before, our Lord gives to whom He will, particularly to

him who is best disposed.

14. I see this in certain persons of tender years who have come

to this monastery,--God touches their hearts, and gives them a

little light and love. I speak of that brief interval in which

He gives them sweetness in prayer, and then they wait for nothing

further, and make light of every difficulty, forgetting the

necessity even of food; for they shut themselves up for ever in a

house that is unendowed, as persons who make no account of their

life, for His sake, who, they know, loves them. They give up

everything, even their own will; and it never enters into their

mind that they might be discontented in so small a house, and

where enclosure is so strictly observed. They offer themselves

wholly in sacrifice to God.

15. Oh, how willingly do I admit that they are better than I am!

and how I ought to be ashamed of myself before God! What His

Majesty has not been able to accomplish in me in so many

years,--it is long ago since I began to pray, and He to bestow

His graces upon me,--He accomplished in them in three months, and

in some of them even in three days, though he gives them much

fewer graces than He gave to me: and yet His Majesty rewards them

well; most assuredly they are not sorry for what they have done

for Him.

16. I wish, therefore, we reminded ourselves of those long years

which have gone by since we made our religious profession. I say

this to those persons, also, who have given themselves long ago

to prayer, but not for the purpose of distressing those who in a

short time have made greater progress than we have made, by

making them retrace their steps, so that they may proceed only as

we do ourselves. We must not desire those who, because of the

graces God has given them, are flying like eagles, to become like

chickens whose feet are tied. Let us rather look to His Majesty,

and give these souls the reins, if we see that they are humble;

for our Lord, who has had such compassion upon them, will not let

them fall into the abyss.

17. These souls trust themselves in the hands of God, for the

truth, which they learn by faith, helps them to do it; and shall

not we also trust them to Him, without seeking to measure them by

our measure which is that of our meanness of spirit? We must not

do it; for if we cannot ascend to the heights of their great love

and courage,--without experience none can comprehend them--let us

humble ourselves, and not condemn them; for, by this seeming

regard to their progress, we hinder our own, and miss the

opportunity our Lord gives us to humble ourselves, to ascertain

our own shortcomings, and learn how much more detached and more

near to God these souls must be than we are, seeing that His

Majesty draws so near to them Himself.

18. I have no other intention here, and I wish to have no other,

than to express my preference for the prayer that in a short time

results in these great effects, which show themselves at once;

for it is impossible they should enable us to leave all things

only to please God, if they were not accompanied with a vehement

love. I would rather have that prayer than that which lasted

many years, but which at the end of the time, as well as at the

beginning, never issued in a resolution to do anything for God,

with the exception of some trifling services, like a grain of

salt, without weight or bulk, and which a bird might carry away

in its mouth. Is it not a serious and mortifying thought that we

are making much of certain services which we render our Lord, but

which are too pitiable to be considered, even if they were many

in number? This is my case, and I am forgetting every moment the

mercies of our Lord. I do not mean that His Majesty will not

make much of them Himself, for He is good; but I wish I made no

account of them myself, or even perceived that I did them, for

they are nothing worth.

19. But, O my Lord, do Thou forgive me, and blame me not, if I

try to console myself a little with the little I do, seeing that

I do not serve Thee at all; for if I rendered Thee any great

services, I should not think of these trifles. Blessed are they

who serve Thee in great deeds; if envying these, and desiring to

do what they do, were of any help to me, I should not be so far

behind them as I am in pleasing Thee; but I am nothing worth, O

my Lord; do Thou make me of some worth, Thou who lovest me

so much.

20. During one of those days, when this monastery, which seems to

have cost me some labour, was fully founded by the arrival of the

Brief from Rome, which empowered us to live without an

endowment; [6] and I was comforting myself at seeing the whole

affair concluded, and thinking of all the trouble I had had, and

giving thanks to our Lord for having been pleased to make some

use of me,--it happened that I began to consider all that we had

gone through. Well, so it was; in every one of my actions, which

I thought were of some service, I traced so many faults and

imperfections, now and then but little courage, very frequently a

want of faith; for until this moment, when I see everything

accomplished, I never absolutely believed; neither, however, on

the other hand, could I doubt what our Lord said to me about the

foundation of this house. I cannot tell how it was; very often

the matter seemed to me, on the one hand, impossible; and, on the

other hand, I could not be in doubt; I mean, I could not believe

that it would not be accomplished. In short, I find that our

Lord Himself, on His part, did all the good that was done, while

I did all the evil. I therefore ceased to think of the matter,

and wished never to be reminded of it again, lest I should do

myself some harm by dwelling on my many faults. Blessed be He

who, when He pleases, draws good out of all my failings! Amen.

21. I say, then, there is danger in counting the years we have

given to prayer; for, granting that there is nothing in it

against humility, it seems to me to imply something like an

appearance of thinking that we have merited, in some degree, by

the service rendered. I do not mean that there is no merit in it

at all, nor that it will not be well rewarded; yet if any

spiritual person thinks, because he has given himself to prayer

for many years, that he deserves any spiritual consolations, I am

sure he will never attain to spiritual perfection. Is it not

enough that a man has merited the protection of God, which keeps

him from committing those sins into which he fell before he began

to pray, but he must also, as they say, sue God for His

own money?

22. This does not seem to me to be deep humility, and yet it may

be that it is; however, I look on it as great boldness, for I,

who have very little humility, have never ventured upon it.

It may be that I never asked for it, because I had never served

Him; perhaps, if I had served Him, I should have been more

importunate than all others with our Lord for my reward.

23. I do not mean that the soul makes no progress in time, or

that God will not reward it, if its prayer has been humble; but I

do mean that we should forget the number of years we have been

praying, because all that we can do is utterly worthless in

comparison with one drop of blood out of those which our Lord

shed for us. And if the more we serve Him, the more we become

His debtors, what is it, then, we are asking for? for, if we pay

one farthing of the debt, He gives us back a thousand ducats.

For the love of God, let us leave these questions alone, for they

belong to Him. Comparisons are always bad, even in earthly

things; what, then, must they be in that, the knowledge of which

God has reserved to Himself? His Majesty showed this clearly

enough, when those who came late and those who came early to His

vineyard received the same wages. [7]

24. I have sat down so often to write, and have been so many days

writing these three leaves,--for, as I have said, [8] I had, and

have still, but few opportunities,--that I forgot what I had

begun with, namely, the following vision. [9]

25. I was in prayer, and saw myself on a wide plain all alone.

Round about me stood a great multitude of all kinds of people,

who hemmed me in on every side; all of them seemed to have

weapons of war in their hands, to hurt me; some had spears,

others swords; some had daggers, and others very long rapiers.

In short, I could not move away in any direction without exposing

myself to the hazard of death, and I was alone, without any one

to take my part. In this my distress of mind, not knowing what

to do, I lifted up my eyes to heaven, and saw Christ, not in

heaven, but high above me in the air, holding out His hand to me,

and there protecting me in such a way that I was no longer afraid

of all that multitude, neither could they, though they wished it,

do me any harm.

26. At first the vision seemed to have no results; but it has

been of the greatest help to me, since I understood what it

meant. Not long afterwards, I saw myself, as it were, exposed to

the like assault, and I saw that the vision represented the

world, because everything in it takes up arms against the poor

soul. We need not speak of those who are not great servants of

our Lord, nor of honours, possessions, and pleasures, with other

things of the same nature; for it is clear that the soul, if it

be not watchful, will find itself caught in a net,--at least, all

these things labour to ensnare it; more than this, so also do

friends and relatives, and--what frightens me most--even good

people. I found myself afterwards so beset on all sides, good

people thinking they were doing good, and I knowing not how to

defend myself, nor what to do.

27. O my God, if I were to say in what way, and in how many ways,

I was tried at that time, even after that trial of which I have

just spoken, what a warning I should be giving to men to hate the

whole world utterly! It was the greatest of all the persecutions

I had to undergo. I saw myself occasionally so hemmed in on

every side, that I could do nothing else but lift up my eyes to

heaven, and cry unto God. [10] I recollected well what I had seen

in the vision, and it helped me greatly not to trust much in any

one, for there is no one that can be relied on except God.

In all my great trials, our Lord--He showed it to me--sent always

some one on His part to hold out his hand to help me, as it was

shown to me in the vision, so that I might attach myself to

nothing, but only please our Lord; and this has been enough to

sustain the little virtue I have in desiring to serve Thee: be

Thou blessed for evermore!

28. On one occasion I was exceedingly disquieted and troubled,

unable to recollect myself, fighting and struggling with my

thoughts, running upon matters which did not relate to

perfection; and, moreover, I did not think I was so detached from

all things as I used to be. When I found myself in this wretched

state, I was afraid that the graces I had received from our Lord

were illusions, and the end was that a great darkness covered my

soul. In this my distress our Lord began to speak to me: He bade

me not to harass myself, but learn, from the consideration of my

misery, what it would be if He withdrew Himself from me, and that

we were never safe while living in the flesh. It was given me to

understand how this fighting and struggling are profitable to us,

because of the reward, and it seemed to me as if our Lord were

sorry for us who live in the world. Moreover, He bade me not to

suppose that He had forgotten me; He would never abandon me, but

it was necessary I should do all that I could myself.

29. Our Lord said all this with great tenderness and sweetness;

He also spoke other most gracious words, which I need not repeat.

His Majesty, further showing His great love for me, said to me

very often: "Thou art Mine, and I am thine." I am in the habit

of saying myself, and I believe in all sincerity: "What do I care

for myself?--I care only for Thee, O my Lord."

30. These words of our Lord, and the consolation He gives me,

fill me with the utmost shame, when I remember what I am. I have

said it before, I think, [11] and I still say now and then to my

confessor, that it requires greater courage to receive these

graces than to endure the heaviest trials. When they come, I

forget, as it were, all I have done, and there is nothing before

me but a picture of my wretchedness, and my understanding can

make no reflections; this, also, seems to me at times to

be supernatural.

31. Sometimes I have such a vehement longing for Communion; I do

not think it can be expressed. One morning it happened to rain

so much as to make it seem impossible to leave the house. When I

had gone out, I was so beside myself with that longing, that if

spears had been pointed at my heart, I should have rushed upon

them; the rain was nothing. When I entered the church I fell

into a deep trance, and saw heaven open--not a door only, as I

used to see at other times. I beheld the throne which, as I have

told you, my father, I saw at other times, with another throne

above it, whereon, though I saw not, I understood by a certain

inexplicable knowledge that the Godhead dwelt.

32. The throne seemed to me to be supported by certain animals; I

believe I saw the form of them: I thought they might be the

Evangelists. But how the throne was arrayed, and Him who sat on

it I did not see, but only an exceedingly great multitude of

angels, who seemed to me more beautiful, beyond all comparison,

than those I had seen in heaven. I thought they were, perhaps,

the seraphim or cherubim, for they were very different in their

glory, and seemingly all on fire. The difference is great, as I

said before; [12] and the joy I then felt cannot be described,

either in writing or by word of mouth; it is inconceivable to any

one what has not had experience of it. I felt that everything man

can desire was all there together, and I saw nothing; they told

me, but I know not who, that all I could do there was to

understand that I could understand nothing, and see how

everything was nothing in comparison with that. So it was; my

soul afterwards was vexed to see that it could rest on any

created thing: how much more, then, if it had any affection

thereto; for everything seemed to me but an ant-hill.

I communicated, and remained during Mass. I know not how it was:

I thought I had been but a few minutes, and was amazed when the

clock struck; I had been two hours in that trance and joy.

33. I was afterwards amazed at this fire, which seems to spring

forth out of the true love of God; for though I might long for

it, labour for it, and annihilate myself in the effort to obtain

it, I can do nothing towards procuring a single spark of it

myself, because it all comes of the good pleasure of His Majesty,

as I said on another occasion. [13] It seems to burn up the old

man, with his faults, his lukewarmness, and misery; so that it is

like the phoenix, of which I have read that it comes forth, after

being burnt, out of its own ashes into a new life. Thus it is

with the soul: it is changed into another, whose desires are

different, and whose strength is great. It seems to be no longer

what it was before, and begins to walk renewed in purity in the

ways of our Lord. When I was praying to Him that thus it might

be with me, and that I might begin His service anew, He said to

me: "The comparison thou hast made is good; take care never to

forget it, that thou mayest always labour to advance."

34. Once, when I was doubting, as I said just now, [14] whether

these visions came from God or not, our Lord appeared, and, with

some severity, said to me: "O children of men, how long will you

remain hard of heart!" I was to examine myself carefully on one

subject,--whether I had given myself up wholly to Him, or not.

If I had,--and it was so,--I was to believe that He would not

suffer me to perish. I was very much afflicted when He spoke

thus, but He turned to me with great tenderness and sweetness,

and bade me not to distress myself, for He knew already that, so

far as it lay in my power, I would not fail in anything that was

for His service; that He Himself would do what I wished,--and so

He did grant what I was then praying for; that I was to consider

my love for Him, which was daily growing in me, for I should see

by this that these visions did not come from Satan; that I must

not imagine that God would ever allow the devil to have so much

power over the souls of His servants as to give them such

clearness of understanding and such peace as I had.

35. He gave me also to understand that, when such and so many

persons had told me the visions were from God, I should do wrong

if I did not believe them. [15]

36. Once, when I was reciting the psalm Quicumque vult, [16] I

was given to understand the mystery of One God and Three Persons

with so much clearness, that I was greatly astonished and

consoled at the same time. This was of the greatest help to me,

for it enabled me to know more of the greatness and marvels of

God; and when I think of the most Holy Trinity, or hear It spoken

of, I seem to understand the mystery, and a great joy it is.

37. One day--it was the Feast of the Assumption of the Queen of

the Angels, and our Lady--our Lord was pleased to grant me this

grace. In a trance He made me behold her going up to heaven, the

joy and solemnity of her reception there, as well as the place

where she now is. To describe it is more than I can do; the joy

that filled my soul at the sight of such great glory was

excessive. The effects of the vision were great; it made me long

to endure still greater trials: and I had a vehement desire to

serve our Lady, because of her great merits.

38. Once, in one of the colleges of the Society of Jesus, when

the brothers of the house were communicating, I saw an

exceedingly rich canopy above their heads. I saw this twice; but

I never saw it when others were receiving Communion.

1. Ch. xxxiii. § 10. F. Gaspar de Salazar.

2. 3 Kings xix. 12: "Sibilus auræ tenuis."

3. See St. John of the Cross, Ascent of Mount Carmel,

bk. iii. ch. i, p. 210).

4. Ch. xxxiv. § 1.

5. St. John iii. 34: "Non enim ad mensuram dat Deus spiritum."

6. See ch. xxxiii. § 15.

7. St. Matt. xx. 9-14: "Volo autem et huic novissimo dare sicut

et tibi."

8. Ch. xiv. § 12.

9. The Saint had this vision when she was in the house of Doña

Luisa de la Cerda in Toledo, and it was fulfilled in the

opposition she met with in the foundation of St. Joseph of Avila.

See ch. xxxvi. § 18.

10. 2 Paralip. xx. 12: "Hoc solum habemus residui, ut oculos

nostros dirigamus ad Te."

11. Ch. xx. § 4.

12. Ch. xxix. § 16.

13. Ch. xxix. § 13.

14. § 28.

15. See ch. xxviii. §§ 19, 20.

16. Commonly called the Creed of St. Athanasius.

The Life of St. Teresa of Jesus, of the Order of Our Lady of Carmel · 第 39 / 41 章