Daily Gospel Reflection
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October 15, 2022
Jesus said to his disciples:
“I tell you,
everyone who acknowledges me before others
the Son of Man will acknowledge before the angels of God.
But whoever denies me before others
will be denied before the angels of God.
“Everyone who speaks a word against the Son of Man will be forgiven,
but the one who blasphemes against the Holy Spirit
will not be forgiven.
When they take you before synagogues and before rulers and authorities,
do not worry about how or what your defense will be
or about what you are to say.
For the Holy Spirit will teach you at that moment what you should say.”
When I was a first-year student at Notre Dame, I was nervous about participating in my classes. If the professor posed a question, I would scribble in my notebook, attempting to concoct the perfect response. Only after would I shoot my hand up in a rush to find the teacher had already called on someone else. While many of my peers volunteered with fearless gusto, defending their points eloquently, I lacked the confidence to own my knowledge.
Thanks to many professors’ intentional, inclusive teaching practices, I gradually learned to trust my instincts and speak up. Slowly, the perfectionist habits I had clung to began to dwindle. In my close-knit, seminar-style English and American studies courses, I learned the value of listening and asking questions—and that I didn’t always have to have the answer.
Later, as a high school educator, I realized just how important it is to create spaces where each student can show up authentically as their whole self—the self that sometimes has the answer and sometimes makes mistakes. This classroom culture starts with building a community that acknowledges each other’s gifts and unique perspectives. With this foundation, we can become more vulnerable and open to expanding our knowledge.
On campus in the heart of God Quad, the Sacred Heart of Jesus statue stands with arms outstretched and open. The inscription reads, “Venite Ad Me Omnes,” which translates as, “Come to me, everyone!”
When we recognize and honor each person, we say to them, as Jesus did, “I acknowledge you.” When we fail to acknowledge someone’s personhood, we deny their humanity. But when we do, we can create more spaces where others feel welcome, seen, and heard.
Today, the gospel reminds us that we never have to show up as perfect; we only have to show up as who God made us.
Prayer
Lord God, when we are in trouble and are without words, and feel our faith trembling under the pressure of those who would lead us away from you, send your Spirit to build up our faith and to give us the words to say and actions to take. We pray through Our Lord Jesus Christ who lives and reigns with you and that same Spirit. Amen.
Saint of the Day
St. Teresa of Avila is one of the Church’s great mystics, and was one of the first two women to be declared a doctor of the Church, due to her work reforming the Carmelite order, her mystical spiritual life and her luminous writing on contemplative prayer.
Teresa was born in Avila, Spain, on the eve of the Protestant Reformation in 1515, to a devoutly Catholic family. Her mother, Beatriz, read her many stories of the saints when she was a young child, and Teresa and her brother Rodrigo were particularly smitten by the stories of the martyrs. Their heads filled with the grandeur of holy self-sacrifice, Rodrigo and Teresa decided to run away to southern Spain where Christians were undergoing persecution. Apprehended by their uncle before they had even made it to the next town, Rodrigo and Teresa reluctantly returned home.
Teresa's mother, Beatriz, died when Teresa was just fourteen. Filled with grief and loneliness, Teresa turned to Mary and asked her to be her mother. From that hour on, Teresa claimed, "I never prayed to the Virgin in vain."
Teresa's natural zeal waned slightly throughout her teenage years. Teresa had charisma and charm in abundance, and she developed a wide circle of friends. Even in the midst of relishing the influence of her great beauty, style, and wit, Teresa felt miserable. When she continued her education at a convent of Carmelites, Teresa's passion for the religious life was reignited.
When Teresa turned twenty, she left home against her father’s wishes to join a Carmelite convent to become a religious sister. When she arrived at the Carmelite Monastery in Avila, she discovered an environment all too similar to the world she had left behind. Carmelite Monasteries by the 16th century had grown generally lax and materialistic. Convents were run on endowments, and the nuns were concerned about their social status and material wealth.
Teresa fell ill for several years—probably with a type of malaria—and dedicated herself to prayer while she lay in bed. When she was restored to health, Teresa became distracted by visitors and neglected her prayer. The death of her father prompted Teresa to begin focusing again on prayer.
Teresa's mysticism was certainly not instant—she describes a typical hour in meditation when she would fret away the hour wishing it would be over. Gradually, however, through practice and faithfulness, her prayer deepened. As she read the work of other Spanish mystics, Teresa began to develop a more intimate union with God.
Increasingly, she received consolation in prayer and began to experience God's voice and see visions of Christ. Many friends and advisors feared the visions came from the devil, not from God. After consultation with the Jesuit priest who would become her spiritual director, Francis Borgia, all of Teresa's doubts of the origins of these visions were removed.
From then on, she had many experiences of distinctly hearing divine speech, which filled her with peace and joy. Sometimes, even, Teresa's body was levitated during prayer. During these ecstasies, she felt certain that these gifts were from God, as they filled her with consolation: feelings of peace and joy in the overabundance of God’s love.
In one vision, she described an angel visiting her. The angel seemed to be burning with love of God, and pierced her heart with a lance, which caused Teresa physical pain and left Teresa, in her words, “all on fire with the great love of God.”
Just as her contemporary, Ignatius of Loyola, founded the Society of Jesus to reinvigorate the Church of Spain and respond to the Protestant Reformation, Teresa began her own work of reform inside of Carmel. Teresa began her efforts by founding new Carmelite monasteries, known as “discalced” Carmelites because they made it a habit to wear thin sandals instead of shoes. (Those sandals can be seen in the stained glass image of Teresa above.)
She found a partner in her work of reform in Carmel when she became close colleagues with St. John of the Cross, who was seeking similar reforms and a return to a more humble lifestyle in Carmelite monasteries for men. Besides being reformers, John and Teresa were both great mystics and their theological writing and poetry on prayer are spiritual classics.
Their efforts were met with great opposition by the Spanish Inquisition, leading to periods of imprisonment for both Teresa and John; but their work of reform also gained the support of several powerful figures, including King Philip II of Spain. Eventually, Pope Gregory XIII granted her order of the Discalced Carmelites their independence from those older convents who practiced the Mitigated Rule, and Teresa continued to found more communities dedicated to poverty, work, and obedience. By the time she died, Teresa had founded over fifteen new Carmelite communities.
Teresa's confessor requested that she begin to write down her insights from her visions and prayer, and Teresa wrote The Interior Castle, about the journey to mystical, contemplative union with God. Teresa's writings have significantly shaped Carmelite spirituality and broader Christian spirituality, as an indispensable guide to contemplative prayer. Like John of the Cross, Teresa's poetry also resonates with deep spiritual eloquence. Read one of her most famous poetic prayers below:
Nada te turbe,
nada te espante
todo se pasa,
Dios no se muda,
la paciencia
todo lo alcanza,
quien a Dios tiene
nada le falta
solo Dios basta.
Let nothing disturb you,
Let nothing frighten you,
All things pass away:
God never changes.
Patience
obtains all things.
He who has God
Finds he lacks nothing;
God alone suffices.
Teresa's piety did not weaken her of a sense of humor. She was a highly intellectual woman with a quick wit. One of the most famous anecdotes that reveals her sense of humor is Teresa's journey through a rainstorm that left her soaking wet and covered in mud. "If this is how you treat your friends, Lord," quipped Teresa, "it's no wonder you have so few."
Teresa died on October 4 or 15, 1582 and was canonized by Pope Gregory XV in 1622. She was declared a doctor of the Church alongside Catherine of Siena, on October 4, 1970, by Pope Paul VI. Catherine of Siena and Teresa of Avila are the first two women to be promoted to this honor. Some of Teresa's relics rest in the reliquary chapel in the Basilica of the Sacred Heart on Notre Dame's campus. St. Teresa is an intercessor for an eclectic group of causes: for those suffering illnesses—particularly headaches—lacemakers, chess, Croatia, those who are ridiculed for their piety, and Spain.
To learn even more about Saint Teresa of Avila, watch this video lecture from the McGrath Institute for Church Life at the University of Notre Dame.
St. Teresa of Avila, great spiritual doctor of the Church and contemplative mystic—pray for us!