St. Teresa of Avila believed that God could be found in everyday and rather ordinary activities as well as in the silence of prayer said in church or some special place.
Though she herself had experienced deep mystical experiences she was down-to-earth and practical.
When it was reported to her that a sister was having an extreme religious experience which threatened to overwhelm her, Teresa advised that she should eat marmalade. (she knew the value of sugar as a way of bringing things under control.)
She was born in the 16th century in 1515 and her feast day is today October 15th. At an early age she was fired up by the lives of the saints and she was particularly taken by the martyrs and their complete self-offering to God.
When she was about 12 she decided that she would leave home and travel to where there were enemies of Christ who would, she confidently believed, behead her! Then she would immediately enter heaven! She took her younger brother Rodrigo with her but fortunately for them, they were apprehended by an uncle before they had reached the outskirts of the town. He noted that the ever-practical Teresa had remembered to pack the sandwiches!
Though she failed to receive the martyrs crown, she responded to the call from God which was to be total and life-long. Entering a Carmelite convent at the age of 21, she was to be dogged by ill health for many years, even to the point of death. It was then that she experienced a mystical visitation from God which left her heart trembling after which she was “left completely afire with a great love for God.” She knew then that her soul would “never be content with anything less than God.”
At this time in Spain, convent life was one of luxury. Nuns even had their own personal maids! Teresa received a call from God to restore a sense of sacrifice and simplicity to the Carmelite order. With thirteen other nuns, she left the security of her convent and for the rest of her life she founded a different sort of convent. Throughout Spain she introduced reforms, some of which she had to argue for in front of prelates and even a Pope but she was not afraid of anything that she saw as standing in the way of God. Simple convents for a simple Godly way of life was her aim. The nuns went barefoot (discalced) as they trod gently but purposefully towards God and His Kingdom.
Teresa herself rushed all over Spain founding convents, and earning the nickname of ‘God’s Gadabout’. Yet in the midst of all this activity was a soul stilled into prayer. She remained close to God in the silence of true prayer.
Her spiritual guides insisted that she wrote down her thoughts about prayer and they are, to this day, among the great spiritual classics. They reflect her holiness, wisdom and sense of humour. Through them she has become a favourite teacher of prayer to many, many people. Her teaching was recognized by the Church when shortly after her death she was made a saint (no less than a ‘Doctor’ of the Church) who was truly a ‘teacher of the faith’
A good part of that teaching is that God is close to us in the midst of ordinarinessof life. As we go about our business prayerfully, we walk with Jesus through whom we walk in the joy of heaven on earth.
We find God in the everyday, and if we train ourselves to recognize that, we shall meet Him in the events of our lives and in the people we meet. This is about finding Heaven in Ordinary.
Teresa reminds us also, that God was within us as well as beside us, and here she takes up our Lord’s own teaching that the Kingdom of God is within us. We encounter Him in the silent depths of our hearts.
“You know that God is everywhere,”she says, “which is a great truth; wherever God dwells there is heaven, and you may feel sure that all which is glorious is near His Majesty.” Always practical and pragmatic, she insisted that is where we are close to God or as she liked to put it, “God walks among the pots and pans.”
Let nothing disturb you, Let nothing frighten you, All things pass away: God never changes, Patience obtains all things. Whoever has God finds they lack nothing. God alone suffices.
The prayer by Teresa found in her prayer book after her death.
(Saint Francis – from a poster in Santiago de Compostello)
God rebuilds the spiritual heart of St Francis. The start of a Saints journey to the Kingdom of heaven, as we commorate the 800th anniversary of his pilgrimage this weekend.
When Francis gave up his life as a kind of lad about – when he turned away from drinking, fighting, leading a pack of rebels, it was because he had been brought up sharp by Jesus. Not for the first time or the last, God had visited the soul of one whose life was going in entirely the wrong direction. Francis’s soul was sick and needed healing. So God drew him away to a derelict church of San. Damiano on the edge of Assisi. There he knelt in prayer and looked at the faded crucifix still hanging over the altar. Francis insists that the voice of Christ came to him at that moment. The words he heard were: Francis,rebuild my church, which you see is falling down. The derelict Church certainly needed repairing, just as Francis’s soul needed rebuilding. Francis was about to begin his ministry and service for God. The words of Jesus to him from the cross where his ‘call’ ~ his response was to be his vocation, not just to physically rebuild the Church of San Damiano, but much more, a renewal of the Church in need of a deeper vision of God.
First, though, he had to get to know the One who called him to this service and to know the love of God flowing into him and through him to others. As he knelt in that place of meeting with Jesus, he formed this prayer which was to remain with him throughout the rest of his life.
The Prayer before the Crucifix
Most High, glorious God, enlighten the darkness of my heart and give me true faith, certain hope, and perfect charity, sense and knowledge, Lord, that I may carry out Your holy and true command
Another prayer which was to become food for his soul is one in which he prays that the love of the Lord Jesus should enter his heart and absorb him with its fire and sweetness. It is known as the Absorbeat because God’s loving Spirit possesses him.
May the power of your love, Lord Christ, fiery and sweet as honey, so absorb our hearts as to withdraw them from all that is under heaven. Grant that we may be ready to die for love of your love, as you died for love of our love. Amen
A simple, yet deeply profound prayer was one that he is said to have dictated as he lay dying. It was a prayer which he had used often and wasn’t original but it was so important to him that it was his deathbed prayer. Many will know it in some form.
We adore you, most holy Lord Jesus Christ, here, and in all your churches throughout all the world; and we bless you, because, by your holy cross, you have redeemed the world.
For Francis his spirituality was totally bound up with the Crucifixion. He is said to be responsible for encouraging the devotion known as The Stations of the Cross, the 14 meditations on our Lord’s journey to His Crucifixion. He himself was to be granted the gift of thestigmata when, after a vision of Christ crucified, the wounds of Jesus, in the form, of scars like nail wounds on his hands, feet and right side appeared on his body and remained with him until his death 2 years later.
A spider rests after web weaving. Photo of spider in Garden of number 18. Photo by Mr. G.
Thank you for those who took the time to respond to the blog about the spiders in the Lake District. It was lovely to get responses.
As I visited the web in my garden I marvelled at what might be called Industrial artistry. You can just make out the intricate and beautiful web she is making. I then remembered a poem I wrote about another spider, which made its appearance at a concert in Paris. I was there as a ‘groupie’ to the Felicitas Choir of Essex. The particular concert took place at the church of St Germain des prés and as the voices soared, I noticed the spider working itself down from heady heights, to hover over the sopranos. It was obviously an appreciator of music because it was clearly entranced by human voices in harmony, weaving song from a gossamer score.
Here’s the poem.
A Spider listens to a concert.
Down came the Spider Abseiling intrepidly, hanging by its own thread, precariously from the church roof. It stops; hovering over music ascending from collective voices. Sounds made by practiced singers. “Look, a Spider”, a soprano points out between pieces. but the Concert builds to its final crescendo. Hearts of all soar with joy’
As the music fades and the concert ends, the Spider is gone. Not just a Spider at all, but perhaps an Angel, now taking up the music to heaven, for God to enjoy!
