While doing some work for a presentation, I thought of these words from the sixteenth saint, Teresa of Avila. Early in her story about her life she comments on experiencing God. Listen to how she puts it. “I used sometimes, as I have said, to experience in an elementary form, and very fleetingly, what I shall now describe. When picturing Christ in the way I have mentioned, and sometimes even when reading, I used unexpectedly to experience a consciousness of the presence of God of such a kind that I could not possibly doubt that he was within me or that I was wholly engulfed in him.” There is much here to unpack.
The first thing Teresa tells us is this experience is an elementary form. I take this to mean it is a sophisticated theological thing. Teresa is certainly capable of theologizing and doing that in a profound way. But here she wants us to know how God comes to her. It is simple. And it is fleeting. I smile at this because how much I know the human temptation to want good things to last---we want to hang on to things like this. Maybe Teresa wanted it to last, too.
On the other hand, if God wants to show up in our lives, we should take it as we get it and be grateful. What difference does it really matter if it lasts one minute or one hour? I know enough about greed to figure if God comes to me, I want it for longer than a minute! I can come up with some good reasons why that should be true for God, too. Stepping back, however, I realize there are some traps here.
If God experientially shows up in my life, like God did for Teresa, then I might begin to feel a little self-important. It is easy to wander into the territory of thinking perhaps I deserved God’s presence. Of all the folks to whom God might show up, God chose me. Maybe I am special. And if God were to hang around for an hour or so, then I must be really important and special. That would give me much to talk about to my other friends who likely are not as deserving. They will have to take my word about God.
I suspect God always know that the opportunity to experience the divine presence requires some humility to go with it. Otherwise, we mess up things and set ourselves up to do some bad theology out of our experience. Perhaps this is why Teresa wants us to know her experience is fleeting. I don’t get the sense she is all puffed up about it. She is rather matter of fact and talks more from the perspective of having been privileged with the experience. And from that experience comes a sense that she needs to share it and help other folks know how to deal with the divinity.
Teresa proceeds to describe the experience. She identifies the experience with Christ. She knows she is working with a picture of Christ in her mind. And she knows the picture is not really the real thing. Experience puts her in touch with the real thing. I value how she talks about the experience itself. She says it is a consciousness of God’s presence. This provokes me first to ponder the nature of consciousness.
Consciousness is a biological and psychological aspect of human beings. It basically means being aware of yourself and your environment. It is a mental capacity. It presupposes our ability to respond to the various stimuli in our environment. We know there are levels of consciousness. We can be dulled and apathetic. Or we can be sharp and focused. When Teresa had her experience, I assume she was alert and very aware.
What intrigues me about her description is how nondescript it really is. There are not details; she does not elaborate. She simply admits the consciousness of God’s presence is so pronounced, she has no doubts. Furthermore, she says that she feels fully engulfed by that presence. If you are like me, there are all sorts of questions tumbling through my head. What was it like? What did you feel? And so many more, I want to pose.
But I can imagine her smiling and saying, “I don’t know any more. I was just in the presence of God. That is how it felt---engulfed. I was wrapped in that presence. I was “in” in.” Maybe it is like being in a cloud, I think? I am impressed that this experience was such and, yet, Teresa had no doubt about its authenticity. While I have questions, apparently she does not question it. She accepts it---on faith. I want to do that, too.
The last thing she says it, “This was in no sense a vision: I believe that it is called mystical theology.” Fair enough. She did not “see” things; she just experiences them. She calls it mystical theology. In today’s language, we might call this a unitive contemplative experience. She thinks all of us can experience God in this way, too. In fact, if we are truly conscious or aware, we might come to realize God is all around quite a bit. The key is learning to be conscious in a way that makes this presence of God available to our experience and knowing.
As usual, we typically are the blockers of this experience, not God. Theologically, we can say that God is available all the time. We simply need to be conscious of the ongoing gift of that presence.
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