Chapter XXVI
Shows how to collect the thoughts,1 suggesting means of doing so. This chapter is useful for those beginning to practise prayer.2
1. The soul should keep close to Christ during prayer. 2. The advantages of doing so. 3. We must gaze on the Bridegroom of our souls. 4. He accommodates Himself to our needs. 5. How we may address Him. 6. We ought to share in His sufferings. 7. As did our Lady and the Magdalen. 8. How to become intimate with Jesus. 9. Aids towards obtaining this habit.
Let us return to speak of mental prayer, in order that we may pray intelligently, and may perform it in such a manner that, without our understanding how, God may give us all the rest. You know that, first of all, you must make your examination of conscience, say the Confiteor and make the sign of the cross — then, my daughters, as you are alone, seek for some companion — and where could you find a better one than the Master Who taught you the prayer you are about to say? Picture this same Lord close beside you. See how lovingly, how humbly He is teaching you — Believe me, you should never be without so good a Friend. If you accustom yourselves to keep Him near you, and He sees that you love to have Him and make every effort to please Him, you will not be able to send Him away. He will never fail you, but will help you in all your troubles and you will find Him everywhere. Do you think it is a small thing to have such a friend at your side?
O my sisters! let those among you who can not pursue a train of thought nor restrain the freaks of your imagination practise it — practise it! I am sure that you can do this, for during many years I bore the trial of being unable to fix my attention on any subject. This is indeed a heavy cross, yet I know that our Lord does not so abandon us as to refuse us His company if we humbly ask Him for it. If we cannot attain to this in one year, let us wait for it many years: do not let us grudge spending our time so well. Who is there to hurry us? We have the power to accustom ourselves to this practice, and to cultivate it, and to keep close beside our dear Master.
I am not now asking you to meditate on Him, nor to produce great thoughts, nor to feel deep devotion: I only ask you to look at Him. Who can prevent your turning the eyes of your soul (but for an instant, if you can do no more) on our Lord? You are able to look on many ugly and vulgar things; then can you not gaze upon the fairest sight imaginable? If He does not appear beautiful to you I give you leave never to think of Him, although, daughters, He never takes His eyes off you! He has borne with many offences and much unworthiness in you, yet these have not sufficed to make Him turn away: is it much to ask that you should sometimes lift your gaze from earth to fix it on Him? See: He is only waiting for us to look on Him, as the bride says.3 You will find that He suits Himself to whatever mood you are in. He longs so keenly for our glance that He will neglect no means to win it.
They say that a wife must do this if she wishes to live happily with her husband. If he is sad, she too must appear unhappy: if he is merry, (although she may be feeling far from cheerful), she must appear light-hearted also: see from what bondage you are freed, sisters! This is what our Lord really does with us. He subjects Himself to us and wishes us to take the command, and He will do our will. If you feel happy, think of Him at His Resurrection, for the very thought of how He rose from the tomb will delight you. How He shone with splendour! How beautiful and majestic, how victorious, how joyful He was! What spoils He brought away from the battle, where He won a glorious kingdom that He wishes to make all your own! Is it much for you to look but once on Him who gives you such riches? If you have trials to bear, if you are sorrowful, watch Him on His way to the garden. What grief must have arisen in His soul to cause Him, Who was patience itself, to manifest it and to complain of it! See Him bound to the column, full of suffering, His flesh all torn to pieces because of His tender love for you — persecuted by some, spat upon by others, denied and deserted by His friends, with none to plead for Him. He is stiff with the cold, and in such utter loneliness that you may well console one another. Or look on Him again — laden with the cross, and not allowed to stay to take breath. He will gaze at you with those beautiful, compassionate eyes, brimming with tears, and will forget His own grief to solace yours, only because you went to comfort Him and turned towards Him.4
'O Prince of all the earth, Thou Who art indeed my Spouse!' you may say, if your heart has been so melted at seeing Him in this state that not only do you look at Him, but you feel delight in speaking to Him, (not in any fixed form of prayer, but out of your compassion, which greatly touches Him): 'art Thou reduced to such sore straits, my Lord, my only Good, that Thou art willing to consort with such a miserable comrade as myself? Yet Thy looks tell me that Thou findest some comfort even in me. How can it be that Thou art forsaken by the angels, and that Thy Father consoles Thee not? If it be Thy will to suffer thus for me, what do I suffer for Thee in return? Of what have I to complain? Shame at seeing Thee in such plight shall make me endure all the trials that may come to me: I will count them gain that I may imitate Thee in something. Let us go together, Lord: "whither Thou goest, I will go", and I will follow where Thou hast passed.'5
Never mind if the Jews trample you under foot, if only you can save Him any pain. Take no notice of what is said to you; shut your ears to all murmurings; stumble and fall with your Spouse, but do not draw back from the cross6 nor abandon it. Often recall His weariness and how much harder His labours were than your own, however great you may fancy these to be and whatever pain they cause you. This will console you: you will go away comforted, seeing that they are but trifles compared with what our Lord bore.
Perhaps you will ask me, sisters, how you are to do this now, though if you had lived while Christ was on earth and had seen Him with your bodily eyes, you would willingly have done it and would have watched Him constantly. Do not believe this; if you will not use a little self-constraint now,7 in order to recollect yourselves and to picture our Lord in your mind (which may be done without danger and solely by a slight effort), much less would you have stood at the foot of the cross with the Magdalen, who had the risk of death before her eyes. What must have been the sufferings of the glorious Virgin and of this blessed saint! What threats, what evil words, what insolence, what shocks and pain! The rude populace they had to deal with were truly fiendish, being the devil's own instruments. Terrible must have been their ordeal, yet it was effaced by a still more bitter pain.8 Therefore, sisters, do not imagine that you would have endured these heavy trials, seeing that you cannot bear the light ones you meet with now: practise patience with these, and you may receive greater crosses later on. You can believe what I say, for I am speaking from personal experience.
It would be very helpful if you wore a medal or some picture of our Lord that pleases you. Do not merely hang it round your neck never to look at it, but often speak to it: He will teach you what to say. If you can find words for other people, why can you not speak to God? Do not fancy that you are unable. I, at least, will not believe that you cannot do so if only you endeavour to accustom yourselves to it. Unless you do this, you will find nothing to say. When we never talk to people we become estranged from them and do not know how to address them: even if they are relations they seem like strangers, for kinsfolk and friends become lost to us if we keep aloof from them.
It is very helpful to read a book of devotion9 in the vulgar tongue, so as to learn how to collect the thoughts and to pray well vocally, thus, little by little, enticing the soul by coaxing and persuasion, so that it may not take alarm. Be wary, for it has deserted its Lover many years ago, and needs very careful management to induce it to return to its home. We sinners have so accustomed ourselves and our thoughts to run after pleasure (or pain, as it might more fitly be called), that the poor soul no longer understands itself, and needs many stratagems to make it stay with its Bridegroom; yet, unless we succeed in doing this, we shall accomplish nothing. Once again do I assure you that if you carefully practise what I have taught you — that is, if you consider in Whose company you are, and if you speak to your Saviour — your reward will be too great for me to describe even if I wished. Keep close beside this kind Master10 and firmly resolve to learn all that He teaches you.11 He will ensure your proving good scholars, and will never leave you unless you first desert Him. Meditate on the words those divine lips uttered: you will at once realise what love He bears you, and it is no small gain and joy for the pupil to feel sure of his Tutor's affection.
Footnotes
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The word used is pensamiento sometimes used by the Saint for the imagination and sometimes for wandering thoughts. Hugh of St. Victor and Francis of St. Thomas define it as 'a wandering of the mind, aimless and useless, in which the thoughts roam hither and thither.' Perhaps 'idle fancies' would sometimes be the right interpretation, ↩
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Valladolid edition, ch. xxviii.; Escorial, ch. xlii. ↩
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Cant. vii. 10: 'Ego dilecto meo, et ad me conversio ejus.' ↩
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St. Teresa wrote here in the margin of the Escorial MS.: 'Exclamations.' ↩
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Ruth i. 16: 'Quocumque enim perrexeris, pergam.' ↩
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Life, ch. xi. 15; ch. xxii. 18. ↩
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'Our good Jesus and His most blessed Mother are too good company to be left, and He is well pleased if we grieve at His pains, even though sometimes at the cost of our own comfort and pleasure.' (Castle, M. vi. ch. vii. 16). ↩
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Escorial, ch. xliii. Continuation of the same subject. Commences to explain a devout and pleasant way of reciting the Pater Noster, ↩
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Life, ch. iv. 13. ↩
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Life, ch. xii. 3, 4. ↩
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A confessor of the Saint, who was extremely learned, one day asked what she did when she had finished her prayer. He supposed that she gave her thoughts to other matters, but she replied: 'Imagine a person so deeply in love that it is impossible for him to live apart from the object of his affection for a moment. Yet his love could not be compared with that I feel for our Lord, which prevents my quitting Him for an instant, either consoling myself with His Presence, or speaking with Him or about Him.' (Ribera, bk. iv. ch. x.) ↩
Chapter 27 of 43