of the Carmelite order, would eventually become the first female Doctor of the Church and one of the most beloved and respected mystical writers of all time.
You might be wondering how someone so knowledgeable when it comes to Christ and the mysteries of our faith can also engage anyone at any level of belief, even to the point of bringing pots and pans into the conversation? Her gift of being able to bring deep theological truths down to a level that can be understood by just about anyone is why so many have come to know and love Saint Teresa of Avila, myself included. And it’s why you shouldn’t be at all intimidated by her or her work — including this book.
Yes, she challenges each of us in our relationship with God. But when we read her work, we know we aren’t going it alone. We have a great teacher with us every step of the way. In the Interior Castle, Teresa describes the human soul as a crystal globe containing seven mansions or dwelling places. Each mansion represents steps we take or places we experience through prayer as we move toward a closer and more profound union with God; the first mansion is our beginning in the spiritual life, and the seventh mansion our greatest union with God this side of heaven. Teresa describes the many challenges and obstacles each of us faces on the path to holiness, some coming from the devil and others from our own weaknesses. All along the way, Teresa cheers us on and encourages us not to deprive ourselves of the One who is waiting for us in the deepest part of the castle.
Once you start making your way through the seven mansions you will find that even though Saint Teresa wrote Interior Castle more than four centuries ago, she dealt with challenges much like those we face today when it comes to growing closer to God. What are some of these challenges? Our lack of concentration in prayer; our busyness; the concerns stemming from our work, our loved ones, or the bills that have to be paid; the items on our never-ending to-do list that need to get done. All of these things can keep us from going deeper in our prayer life. Saint Teresa had plenty of her own distractions to deal with as she worked to start new convents in Spain, as well as challenges from inside and outside the Church that came with reforming a religious order. While she obviously didn’t have today’s modern-day media interferences we’re bombarded with (such as TV, radio, cellphones, the internet, social media, and umpteen other distractions that interfere in our spiritual lives), she is the first to tell us what a challenge it was for her to concentrate in prayer.
She even struggled to concentrate when writing. You’ll find numerous times as you read Interior Castle that she admits to her readers that her mind is wandering. She often goes off in a slightly different direction to make another point and has to ask herself what point she was trying to make in the first place. Her candor and humility make her more lovable and relatable. Her humility also helps us recognize one of her other great gifts: the gift of true knowledge of who the Lord is and who we are not. Where we often like to see ourselves as sitting in the driver’s seat with God as our copilot, Teresa has no doubt about who is truly behind the wheel, as her writing makes clear.
Here are just a few of her words of wisdom that apply so well to our lives today:
It would be very presumptuous of me to choose a way for myself without knowing what is good for me. I should leave our Lord, Who knows my soul, to guide me as is best for me so that His will may be done in all things.
So many of us have our own goals and dreams, and that’s all well and good. The true desires of our hearts are put there by God as gifts to lead us into the life he has in mind for us. But speaking from personal experience, it can take us a while to figure that out. How often in my own life have I taken my plan to God and explained to him that if he would just bless my very bright ideas for my life and allow everything to fall into place the way I see fit, then he and I will be as close as two peas in a pod? Too many times, I’m afraid. However, as Teresa explains in this book, we never truly come to understand who we are and what we’re supposed to be until we acknowledge who God is:
I believe we shall never learn to know ourselves except by endeavoring to know God, for, beholding His greatness we are struck by our own wickedness, His purity shows our foulness, and by meditating on His humility we find how very far we are from being humble.
Teresa even goes so far as to refer to herself more than once as a “worm.” In other words, she has a very direct way of showing us how to get over ourselves and give all glory to God. It’s difficult when reading Interior Castle to think too highly of our own reflection in the mirror. Yes, Teresa would definitely agree that we always need to recognize the dignity of each human person and remember that we are all beloved daughters and sons of God, created in his image and likeness. But this should only reinforce our ability to appreciate that everything we are is because God first loved us, not because of anything we’ve done.
I was reminded of Teresa’s great humility when I came across some advice from one of her confessors, Saint Peter of Alcantara. Coincidentally (or maybe not so coincidentally), I came across Saint Peter’s observations about the glory of God while I was preparing this introduction. Peter writes:
After this it will be very useful to fix your eyes on the study of your own nothingness.
Of yourself, you hold nothing at all except sin; all the rest comes from God. It is clear that the gifts of nature and those of grace (which are the greater) are wholly His: to Him belongs the grace of predestination (which is the source of all other graces), to Him the grace of vocation, to Him concomitant grace (that assists us all the while we are performing a good action), to Him the grace of perseverance, to Him the grace of eternal life.
What have you then in which to glory but your nothingness and sin? Rest a while in the consideration of this nothingness — for this is all you have — the remainder is all God’s — that thus you may see plainly and distinctly what you are and what He is, your poverty, and His riches, and how little in consequence, you should trust in yourself and esteem yourself, and much you should trust in Him and love Him and glorify yourself in Him.
We can imagine Peter sharing these insights with Teresa, seeing her as a student who, by her own admission, was stubborn and often impatient. Yet she eventually allowed her confessor’s advice, through the work of the Holy Spirit, to sink in. The student became the teacher who passed on words of wisdom to her sisters and to the world.
As you embark on this special spiritual path, keep in mind the recent words of Pope Francis about the importance of maintaining a healthy desire to go deeper and not to be satisfied with the status quo:
There are so many Christians who are stopped, who don’t continue on the journey; Christians who have run aground on the concerns of daily life — good things in themselves! — but they don’t grow, they remain small. Parked Christians: they’ve parked. Caged Christians who don’t know how to fly with the dream to this beautiful thing to which the Lord calls us. What do I really desire? Do I really desire God, and seek to be with Him? Or am I afraid? Am I mediocre? … Go forward a little bit, take risks…. The true Christian takes risks, he goes out of his comfort zone.
As Saint Teresa describes in her Interior Castle, parked Christians are those who can’t move forward because they are either too comfortable, too frightened, or too distracted. No matter where we are in our spiritual journey, we should always be seeking to move ahead, confident that God’s grace is there to help us when we feel weak. As Teresa encourages her readers, regardless of how far we think we’ve come, we must always seek to “begin again.”
Wherever you are in your walk with God, enjoy the journey.
Saint Teresa of Avila, pray for us.
This Treatise, Interior Castle, was written by Teresa of Jesus, nun of Our Lady of Carmel, for her sisters and daughters, the discalced Carmelite nuns.
Rarely has obedience laid upon me so difficult a task as this of writing about prayer; for one reason, because I do not feel that God has given me either the power or the desire for it, besides which, during the last three months I have suffered from noises and a great weakness in my head that have made it painful for me to write even on necessary business.1
However, as I know the power obedience has of making things easy which seem impossible, my will submits with a good