She continues her account of the great favours that God granted her, from some of which excellent lessons can be obtained. For instruction, as she says, after obedience and the recording of such favours as will be of profit to souls, has been her principal motive in writing. With this chapter the account of her life comes to an end. May it be for the glory of the Lord. Amen
ONCE when I was at prayer, I felt such a delight within me that, being unworthy of such a blessing, I began to think how much more I deserved to be in that place I had seen prepared for me in hell. For, as I have said, I never forgot the vision of myself in that place. As I meditated on this, my soul began to take more and more fire, and I was seized with a spiritual rapture such as I cannot describe. My spirit seemed to be plunged into that grandeur which I had felt before, and to be filled with it. In that state a truth was revealed to me which is the fulfilment of all truths. I cannot tell how this was, for I saw nothing. I was told, without seeing by whom, but I clearly understood that it was the Truth itself: ‘This is no small thing that I am doing for you, but one of those things for which you are greatly indebted to Me. For all the harm that befalls the world comes from a failure to understand the truths of Scripture in all their true clarity, of which not one tittle shall fail.’ I thought that I had always believed this, and that all the faithful did so. ‘Ah, daughter,’ He said to me, ‘how few there are that truly love Me, for if they did so I would not hide My secrets from them! Do you know what it is to love Me truly? It is to know that everything which is not pleasing to Me is a lie. You do not realize this yet, but you will come to see it clearly in the profit it brings to your soul.’
I have come to see it, the Lord be praised! For from that day onwards I have looked on everything that is not directed to God’s service as vanity and lies. I could not explain in what way I realize this, or express my pity for those whom I see living in darkness and ignorant of this truth. I have derived other gains from this also, some that I shall describe here and many others that I cannot. At the same time, the Lord said one special thing to me of particular grace. I do not know the manner of it, for I saw nothing. But it gave me a very great fortitude, in a way that I am equally incapable of describing; and so I became firmly resolved to carry out with all my might even the smallest injunction in Holy Scripture. I do not think any obstacle could have been presented to me that I would not have overcome to that end.
Of this divine Truth which was presented to me without my knowing what it was or how it came, one particular truth remains impressed on me, which conveyed to me some notion of God’s majesty and power, and gave me a new reverence for Him. I can say nothing about its nature, but I know that it is something extremely high. After that I felt a very great desire never to speak of anything except the profoundest truths, which go far deeper than the subjects usually discussed in this world; and so living in the world began to be most painful to me. But at the same time I was filled with much tenderness, joy, and humility. It seemed to me that the Lord had granted me a great deal, though I did not understand how; I had not the least fear that it might be an illusion. I saw nothing, but I understood what a great benefit it is to set no store by anything that will not bring us nearer to God. Thus I came to know what it is for a soul to walk in truth, in the presence of Truth itself. What I understood was that the Lord had shown me He is Truth itself.
All that I have described I learned sometimes by locutions and sometimes not; and yet I understood some things that were unspoken more clearly than others that were conveyed in words. I understood very great truths concerning this Truth, and more than if I had been taught by many learned men. I do not think that learned men could possibly have impressed on me so strongly or have shown me so clearly the vanity of this world. This same truth that was taught me is the Truth itself, and is without beginning or end. All other truths depend on this truth, as all other loves depend on this love, and all other greatnesses on this greatness. But this is an obscure way of putting something which the Lord allowed me to be shown in the utmost clarity. How mighty must be the power of the Majesty that brings the soul such great gains in so short a time, and leaves such things imprinted upon it! O my grand Majesty! What are you doing, Almighty Lord? Consider upon whom You are conferring these sovereign mercies. Do You not remember that this soul has been an abyss of lies and an ocean of vanities, and all through my own fault? You gave me a natural hatred of lying, yet I allowed myself in many ways to traffic in lies. How can it appear right and proper that these great favours and mercies should be granted to one who has so ill deserved to receive them from You?
Once when I was reciting the Office with the community, my soul suddenly became recollected, and seemed to me like a clear mirror; there was no part of it – back, sides, top, or bottom – that was not completely bright; and in the middle was a picture of Christ Our Lord as I usually see Him. I seemed to see Him in every part of my soul as clearly as in a mirror, and this mirror – I cannot explain how – was entirely shaped to this same Lord, by a most loving communication which I could not describe. I know the very great benefit which that vision brought me each time that I recall it, and especially after I have taken Communion. It was explained to me that when a soul is in mortal sin this mirror is covered with a thick mist and remains so dark that the Lord cannot be reflected or seen in it, even though He is always present and gives us our being. In the case of heretics, the mirror is much worse than darkened; it has the appearance of being broken. There is a great difference between seeing this and describing it, for it cannot be properly explained. But it has been of great benefit to me, and has also caused me deep regrets when by my own fault I have darkened my soul and been unable to see the Lord.
This vision seems to me very profitable to recollected persons, for it teaches them to think of the Lord as being in the very innermost part of the soul. This is a meditation which penetrates most deeply and, as I have previously said, is much more fruitful than the thought of Him as outside us, which one finds in certain books about prayer that tell us where we are to seek God. The glorious St Augustine puts this particularly well1 when he says that neither in the cities, nor in pleasures, nor in any other place where he sought Him, did he find Him as he did within himself. This is quite clearly the best way. There is no need to climb up to Heaven, nor to go any farther than to our own selves; to do so troubles the spirit, distracts the soul, and brings but little fruit.
Here I should like to give a warning to such as experience deep rapture of one thing that occurs in the course of it. When the time is over during which the soul has been in complete union and its faculties have been wholly absorbed – and this time, as I have said, is short – the soul is still recollected and unable, even in outward things, to return to itself. But the two faculties of memory and reason will be almost frenziedly distracted. This, as I say, happens at times, especially at the beginning. I think that it may arise from the inability of our weak natures to endure such vehemence of spirit, and from the enfeeblement of the imagination. I know that it happens to some people. I think it would be a good thing if they were to force themselves to give up prayer for a time, and take it up again later, when they may recover what they have lost by being disunited. Otherwise they may come to great harm. I have experience of this, also of the wisdom of considering what our health will bear.
In all this we need experience and a master. For when the soul has reached this point, many things occur that need to be discussed with somebody. But if one seeks guidance and does not find it, then the Lord will not fail one. For even though I am what I am, He has not failed me. I believe there are few who have acquired experience of all these things, and without experience it is useless to treat a soul – one will only bring it trouble and distress. But the Lord will also take account of this; it is better, therefore, to refer one’s experiences to a confessor. I have said this on other occasions. Indeed everything that I am saying now I have said before. But I do not remember it very well. I am certain, however, that the choice and character of a confessor is a very important matter, especially for a woman. The Lord grants these favours to many more women than men, as I have heard from the saintly friar Peter of Alcántara, and have also observed for myself. He used to say that women made much more progress on this path than men, and he gave excellent reasons for it, which there is no reason to repeat here, all in women’s favour.
Once when I was at prayer, I saw for a brief moment, without distinctness of form but with complete clarity, how all things are seen in God and how He contains all things within Him. I have no idea how to express this vision in writing; but it remained deeply impressed in my soul, and is one of those great favours which God granted me and which make me confused and ashamed when I remember the sins I have committed. I believe that if the Lord had been pleased that I should see this vision earlier, and if it had been seen by those who sin against Him, we should have had neither the heart nor the boldness to offend. This vision appeared to me, I repeat, but I cannot affirm that I saw anything. I must have seen something, however, since I am able to make this comparison. But it came in such a subtle and delicate way that the intellect cannot touch it. It may be that I cannot understand these visions, which do not seem to be imaginary, though there must be an imaginary element in some of them. But as, during the rapture, the faculties are in suspense, they cannot afterwards reproduce the picture which the Lord has revealed to them, and in which he wishes them to rejoice.
Let us say that the Divinity is like a very clear diamond, much larger than the whole world, or a mirror, according to my description of the soul in my former vision, except that it is of so sublime a kind that I cannot find words to express it. Then let us suppose that all we do is seen in this diamond, which is so formed as to contain everything within itself, for there is nothing that can lie outside its greatness. It was a terrifying thing for me to see so many things together and in so short a time in this diamond, and it is very distressing, each time I remember it, to think that I saw such ugly things as my own sins reflected in that clearness and purity. In fact when I remember it, I do not know how to bear it, and at that time I felt such a deep shame that I did not seem to know where to hide. If only someone could explain this to those who commit the most ugly and dishonourable sins, they might realize that such deeds are not hidden; that as they are committed in His Majesty’s presence, He is justly grieved by them, and that we behave most irreverently before God! I saw the way in which hell is actually earned by a single mortal sin, and the impossibility of understanding what a very grave thing it is to commit such a sin before so exalted a Majesty, and I saw how alien to His nature such deeds are. All this gives an increasingly clear demonstration of His mercy, in that He knows we are behaving like this and bears with us all the same.
All this made me consider whether an experience of that nature may not fill the soul with such terror of the Judgement Day that it asks: ‘How will it be on that day, when His Majesty will reveal Himself to us clearly and we shall see the offences we have committed?’ God help me, I have indeed walked in blindness! I have often been surprised by what I have written, but your Reverence must only be surprised at one thing: at my still being alive when I see all this and consider what I am. May He who has borne with me for so long be blessed for ever.
Once when I was at prayer, deep in recollection, sweetness and quiet, I seemed to be surrounded by angels and very close to God. I began to pray to His Majesty for the Church. Then I was shown the great benefit that was to come to it in future days from a certain Order,1 and from the fortitude with which its members would uphold the Faith.
Again, when I was praying beside the Most Holy Sacrament, there appeared to me a saint2 whose Order has been in some decline. In his hands he held a book, which he opened, telling me to read a few words which were in large and very legible print. ‘In times to come,’ they said, ‘this Order will flourish and have many martyrs.’
On another occasion, when I was in the choir at Matins, I saw standing before me six or seven figures, who seemed to be members of this same Order, with swords in their hands. The meaning of this is, I think, that they will defend the Faith. At another time, when I was at prayer and my spirit was carried away, I seemed to be in a great field where many people were fighting, and members of this Order were struggling most heatedly. Their faces were beautiful and all on fire. Many were thrown to the ground defeated, and others were killed. I thought that this was a battle against the heretics.
I have seen this glorious saint several times, and he has told me various things. He has thanked me for my prayers on behalf of his Order, and has promised to commend me to the Lord. I do not say what Orders I am speaking of. If the Lord wishes their names to be known, He will declare them, in which case the others will not be offended. Each Order, and every member of each Order, should endeavour to be an instrument of the Lord. Then He will bless the Order by allowing it to serve Him in the Church’s present great need. Blessed are those whose lives are spent in this cause.
Someone once asked me to enquire of God whether He would be serving Him by accepting a bishopric. After Communion, the Lord said to me: ‘Tell him that when he truly and clearly understands that true dominion consists in possessing nothing, then he can accept it.’ By this he meant that anyone who is to assume authority must be very far from desiring to do so. At least he must never strive to obtain office.
These and many other favours the Lord has given, and continues to give to this sinner. But I do not think I need describe any more of them, because I have said enough to show the progress my soul is making, and the spirituality which the Lord has granted me. Blessed be He for ever who has taken such care of me.
Once He told me consolingly that I must not worry – he spoke most lovingly – for in this life we cannot always remain in the same state. Sometimes we are fervent, and at other times not; sometimes we are restless and at other times calm in spite of temptations. He told me to trust Him and not be afraid.
One day I asked myself whether it showed a lack of detachment in me to rejoice in the conversation of the people with whom I talk about my soul, and to love them. For I always find comfort in the company of those whom I see to be true servants of God. The Lord said to me in reply that if a man who had been in peril of death were to attribute his recovery to a physician, it would be no virtue in him to withhold his thanks and to refuse him his love. For what would have happened to me but for these persons? He told me that conversation with good people was never a bad thing, and that provided what I said was always well considered and virtuous I should not abstain from their company. It would do me more good than harm. This gave me a great deal of comfort, for sometimes I used to think that I was not sufficiently detached, and then I wanted to give up seeing these people altogether. The Lord always gave me advice about everything, even to the extent of telling me how to deal with certain weak persons and with others. He never ceases to take care of me. But I am sometimes distressed to see how little I do in His service, and how I am forced to spend so much more time than I would wish in a body as weak and miserable as mine.
One night I was at prayer when the time came for me to go to bed. I was in considerable pain, and my usual sickness was coming on. When I saw how bound I was to my body and how my spirit, on the other hand, demanded time for itself, I became so depressed that I burst into floods of tears and was thoroughly upset. This was not the only time that I felt exasperated with myself. It happens frequently, as I have said, and when it does I look on myself like this. But I never fail to do what I see to be necessary for my life. Pray God I do not often do more than is essential. No doubt I do. On the occasion of which I am speaking, when I was so distressed, the Lord appeared to me, comforted me greatly, and told me that I must do these things for love of Him, and endure everything since my life was at present necessary. I do not think I was ever distressed again, once I had resolved to serve my Lord and Consoler with all my strength. Although He has let me suffer a little, He has so comforted me that it is nothing to me to desire trials. I seem now to have no other reason for living, and it is for trials that I pray God most fervently. Sometimes I say to Him with my whole will: ‘Death or suffering, Lord, that is all that I ask of You for myself’. It comforts me to hear the clock strike, for then another hour of my life has passed away, and I seem to be a little nearer to seeing God.
At other times I am in a state in which I do not feel I am alive and seem to have no longing for death. I am lukewarm and in complete darkness, as I have said I often am after great trials. When the Lord was pleased that these favours which He is granting me should be publicly known, as He told me some years ago they would be, I was greatly troubled; and to this day I have suffered quite a little on that account, as your Reverence knows, since everyone interprets them in his own way. It has been a comfort to me, however, that they have not become public through any fault of mine, for I have always been very careful and taken great pains never to speak of them to anyone but my confessors or those to whom I knew they had spoken about them. This was not out of humility but because, as I have said, it distressed me to discuss these matters even with my confessors. But now – glory be to God ! – though many still speak ill of me out of their zeal for righteousness, and others are afraid to talk to me or to hear my confession, and others say all kinds of things to my face, I care very little, because I believe the Lord has chosen this means of benefiting some souls, and I clearly see and remember how much the Lord Himself would suffer on behalf of just one. I do not know whether it is for this reason that His Majesty has placed me in this retired place, where I am so strictly enclosed and where I am so much like a dead thing that I once thought no one would remember me again. But I am not as much forgotten as I wish, since there are certain persons to whom I am obliged to speak. As I am not in a place where I can be visited, however, it seems that the Lord has at last been pleased to bring me to a haven, which I trust in His Majesty will be secure. As I am now out of the world, and in a small and saintly society, I look down on things as from a height and care very little what people say or know about me. I care more about a single soul’s slightest advancement than for all that people may say about me; and since I have been here, it has been the Lord’s will that my desires shall be limited to this. He has given me a life that is a kind of sleep, for I almost always seem to be dreaming what I see. I find in myself no great happiness or unhappiness. If some things make me feel a little of either, it passes so swiftly that I am amazed, and the feeling that it leaves behind is as of something met with in a dream. It is really true that if afterwards I want to glory in that pleasure or to grieve for that pain, I am no more capable of doing so than an intelligent person would be either of grieving or glorying over something that occurred in a dream. For the Lord has awakened my soul from that state in which, being neither mortified nor dead to the things of this world, I used to have such feelings; and His Majesty will not let me become blind again.
This, my dear Father, is how I live now. Your Reverence must pray God either to take me to Him or to give me the means of serving Him. May it please His Majesty that what is written here may be of some benefit to your Reverence, since my lack of opportunities for writing has made it a hard task for me. But it will have been a blessed task if I have succeeded in saying anything which will bring to the Lord even a single act of praise. With that I should feel myself amply rewarded, even if your Reverence were to burn my writings immediately.
I should not like them to be burnt, however, before they have been seen by three persons known to your Reverence, who are or have been my confessors.1 For if what I say is wrong, it would be well that they should lose the good opinion they have of me; and if it is good, I know that, being pious and learned men, they will see whence it comes and praise Him who has spoken through me. May His Majesty always protect Your Reverence and make you so great a saint that your spirituality and light may be shed on this miserable creature, who is so lacking in humility and so presumptuous as to have ventured to write on these sublime subjects. May it please the Lord that I have fallen into no errors, for my intention and wish have been to be accurate and obedient, so that through me the Lord may receive some praise. This is what for many years I have been praying for. As the works I have performed are not sufficient to gain this end, I have ventured to put together this story of my unruly life, though I have wasted no more time or trouble on it than has been necessary for the writing of it. I have merely set down what has happened to me in all possible simplicity and truth.
May it please the Lord, since He is powerful and can do what He will, that I may succeed in doing His will in all things. May He not allow this soul to be lost which He has, by so many artifices, in so many ways and on so many occasions, rescued from hell and drawn to Himself. Amen.
LETTER ADDRESSED TO FRIAR GARCIA DE TOLEDO AND ACCOMPANYING THE LIFE
IHS
MAY the Holy Spirit be ever with your Reverence. Amen. It would be no bad thing, sir, if I were to exaggerate the difficulty of this task so that you might feel obliged to commend me most earnestly to Our Lord; and I might well do so, considering what I have suffered when I have found myself writing down and calling attention to all my miserable deeds. Still I can truly say that I have felt worse when recording the favours that the Lord has done me than when noting down the offences that I have committed against His Majesty. In writing at some length, I have fulfilled your Reverence’s commands, but I have done so on condition that you fulfil your promise to me and tear up any part that seems to you wrong. I had not finished reading through what I have written when your Reverence sent for it. Some things, therefore, may be badly expressed, and others put down twice, for I have had so little time for the task that I have not been able to reread what I have written. I beg your Reverence to correct my mistakes and, if this is to be sent on to Father Ávila, to have a fresh copy made; otherwise someone may recognize my hand.
I very much hope that Father Ávila will be ordered to read this, since it was for this purpose that I began to write. Then if he thinks I am on the right road I shall be greatly comforted, for I have done all that it is in me to do. Your Reverence must act in all respects as you think best, and will realize your obligation to one who thus entrusts her soul to you.
I shall commend your Reverence’s soul to Our Lord so long as I live. Be diligent, therefore, in serving His Majesty, in order to help me. For your Reverence will see from these writings how profitable it is to give oneself entirely, as you yourself have begun to do, to Him who gives Himself to us without stint.
May He be blessed for ever. I trust in His mercy that your Reverence and I will meet in a place where we shall see more clearly what great things He has done for us, and where we shall praise Him for ever and ever. Amen.
This book was finished in June of the year MDLXII.1