Teresa of Avila: 500 Years Young

Browsing the spirituality section at any local book store is always interesting. Recently, selections included Spiritual Java, Tattoos on the Heart, Chicken Soup for the Soul in an alarming number of volumes and yes, St. Augustine’s Confessions, along with St. Teresa of Avila’s Interior Castle. I think a few subcategories are in order! If I were asked to choose those categories I would name one “500 years or older.” I have a hunch that the ever growing Chicken Soup series will not be sitting on the bookshelf 500 years from now. However, if the last 500 years are any indication, a 26th century reader may find the Confessions and The Interior Castle on the shelf. Spiritual classics have the power to speak across the ages because they explore the great mystery of God and God’s love for his people and touch on aspects of it that resonate in every age. The church designates some of the greatest spiritual authors as “doctors” because of the timeless value of their teaching, preaching and writing. Today, we celebrate the feast of one of the newest contributors to the “500 shelf” and that is St. Teresa of Avila.

teresaThis year the Church, and particularly the Carmelite family of which Teresa was a member, will celebrate the 500th anniversary of her birth on March 28, 1515 in Avila, Spain. There is so much to like about Teresa. She is described as attractive, with a good sense of humor, loved to sing, deeply mystical and totally practical. When a sister asked her if she could remain behind in chapel because she couldn’t bear to be separated from the Lord, Teresa asked what she would have to give up to remain in chapel. The sister replied preparing the potatoes for dinner. Teresa assured that she need not worry; The Lord could easily find her in the scullery! Teresa was a natural born leader. She entered the convent because she thought her life was going nowhere and that the distractions of the world did not bring out the best in her. She was quite disappointed to discover that life inside the convent looked an awful lot like life outside the convent. She found the sisters lackadaisical in the spiritual life and gossipy about their fellow sisters and life back in the world. She once remarked “Spare me from a faith that is lukewarm!” In this desire was the seed of her own conversion, the reform of the Carmelite way of life, and the birth of one of the Church’s greatest teachers of prayer.

Canonized in 1622 for the holiness of her life, it was Pope Paul VI who (himself to be beatified this week) named her the second woman doctor of the Church in 1970. Her greatest contribution is her ability to describe the practice of prayer; both the levels of prayer from simple to more mature forms of prayer and how a believer can move from a beginner in the life of prayer toward the prayer of the mystic. Her writing is the account of her own experience of realizing that faith becomes lukewarm when it is taken for granted or when one just moves through the motions.

She writes of the experience that made her realize she never really thought seriously about what it meant that Jesus died for her, carrying her sins to his death. In another meditation, she talks about the challenge of paying attention and thinking about what we are praying when we are praying those prayers that are most familiar to us. Her writing, particularly The Way of Perfection, is her teaching on how to make prayer the language of our relationship with Jesus and how to grow that relationship. Teresa is the perfect teacher if you want to learn how to take your prayer to the next level. Why not join the celebration by reading something by Teresa? Follow the celebration here.

Susan Timoney is the Assistant Secretary for Pastoral Ministry and Social Concerns for the Archdiocese of Washington and teaches spirituality for Saint Joseph’s College Online.

Being Teachable

The baby (who is actually 15 months old, but will be “the baby” for approximately forever, since she is probably the caboose on a train of six) uses a pacifier. Exactly half of my children have used a pacifier. Exactly half of my children need braces. They happen to be the same half. Okay, I don’t know yet that the baby will need braces, but the odds aren’t looking good.

So I am trying to wean her from the pacifier. The other day, I put the pacifier on the table and the baby on the floor, and I went about my business. Shortly thereafter I hear the pathetic weeping begin. When I come into the dining room, there is the baby, gazing up through her tears at the pacifier out of reach and making her adorable language-like noises. I try to distract her. Nothing doing. Finally, I give in and give her the pacifier. The tears dry up, and—this is the icing on the cake—she toddles over to me and gives me one of her affectionate hugs.

footThen it hits me: she is positively reinforcing me. Is this how parenting is supposed to work?

In fact, it probably is. A huge part of the spiritual journey for me as a parent has been becoming teachable—allowing the experiences of motherhood to reveal to me where I need to grow and to mold me for the better.

My kids might argue that I don’t this particularly well, and they would probably be right. But motherhood has at least shown me, in glaring relief, how I need to grow (whether or not I accept the invitation). Being teachable is such a challenge, because I am a teacher by profession—and not a student. Both professionally and as a parent, I’m the authority figure. And that is necessary. The spiritual danger comes in whenever I decide I’m the authority figure in all aspects of life, including and especially my own.

But I’m not an authority on my own life, in fact. My plan for my life is pretty small and unadventurous. My plan doesn’t send me far out of my comfort zone. It’s a recipe for ease, not holiness.

Franks kidsGod the Father’s plan for me, on the other hand: now there’s an adventure. God the Father’s plan involved six children for me, something I neeeever considered back in, say, high school or even undergraduate college. And if that plan can’t make me holy, nothing can.

 

Angela Franks teaches theology for Saint Joseph’s College Online.