La Santa Madre

I recently read an excellent biography of the great saint and Doctor of the Church, Teresa of Jesus, by Cathleen Medwick. Ms. Medwick, while neither a Spaniard nor a Catholic--she is, in fact, an American Jew--captures perfectly the flavor of 16th century Spain, as well as the wit, determination, and chutzpah of la Santa Madre in Teresa of Avila: The Progress of a Soul.

I must confess that, when it comes to all things Teresian, I am very biased. Teresa is my best friend in heaven, the true companion of my soul. Still, I think that Medwick's book is as thorough and honest a reading of the life of the revered saint as one may find outside of her own autobiography, the Vida de Teresa de Jesus ("Life of Teresa of Jesus"), perhaps more so given Medwick's unique perspective. After all, Teresa was herself ethnically Jewish; her grandparents were conversos, Jews who were baptized in the Reconquista of Ferdinand and Isabella. (In an interesting turn of providence, three great Carmelite saints and spiritual masters, Teresa of Jesus, John of the Cross, co-founder with Teresa of the Discalced Reform, and Teresa Benedicta of the Cross, or Edith Stein, the brilliant philosopher and martyr of Auschwitz, were all ethnically Jewish.) Medwick's Teresa is a sign of contradiction: as a nun, bold yet humble, as a religious superior, firm yet loving, and as a reformer of her Carmelite Order and founder of monasteries, industrious yet completely trusting in God's providence.

For Teresa, the Discalced Reform was, ulltimately, God's own project, and God would see it completed. Perhaps a little context is necessary here. By the 16th century, the Carmelite Order, which has been founded in the Holy Land in the 13th century, had strayed from the austerity and prayerfulness of the primitive Rule, especially in Spain, where noble ladies were permitted to bring lapdogs and servants into the convent, adapt the habit to reflect their superior station, and come and go freely from the convent, to the neglect of their religious duties. Teresa's own convent of La Encarnacion was no exception. Moved by a voice from heaven, she established the first reformed convent, called descalzo ("discalced" from the fact that the nuns wore not shoes but simple hemp sandals), San Jose de Avila in 1562, with many more to follow throughout Castile and Andalusia.

While Teresa authored many books throughout her long life, including her spiritual masterpiece, Las Moradas ("The Mansions", more commonly known in English as The Interior Castle), as many commentators point out, her greatest work was her reform movement, which eventually bore fruit in many communities of strictly enclosed, contemplative nuns, as well as friars who, due to the requirements of their various ministries, were less strictly enclosed, but no less contemplative. To this day, these sons and daughters of Mary, Queen and Beauty of Carmel, live lives of prayer and quiet sacrifice, constantly interceding for the people of God.

A good companion to Medwick's biography is the nine-part Spanish mini-series Teresa de Jesus, directed by Josefina Molina and starring Concha Velasco as Teresa.

Angels With One Wing

I recently finished Anne Rice's Of Love and Evil, the second novel in the Songs of the Seraphim series. Toby O'Dare, a hit man who has known profound grief, is visited by Malchiah, an seraph who bears a message of God's mercy and the need to make reparation for sin. Thus far, that opportunity has involved travelling back in time and space ("Angel Time") to protect God's chosen people, the Jews, from persecution. In the first novel in the series, Angel Time, Malchiah brings Toby to thirteenth century England where, in the guise of a Dominican friar, he defends a Jewish family that has been falsely accused of murdering their young daughter. Similarly, in this second novel, Toby is taken to sixteenth century Rome, where he intervenes in the case of a Jewish physician, who has been falsely accused of poisoning his Christian patient. It is a delightful series, well-grounded in the Catholic theological tradition with much owed to Thomas Aquinas, the "Angelic Doctor", that creatively explores the rapport between angels and humans. One hopes that Ms. Rice's recent defection from the Church (which is a topic for another post) will not adversely impact the series.

Here a just a few things that I love about the series:

It recognizes angels as the personal representatives of God's love and protection. In other words, God could--and often does--protect and guide us humans directly, but His love is such that He creates spiritual beings for the sole purpose of bearing His love to us.

It acknowledges the reality of spiritual warfare. If there are spiritual beings who have chosen from the moment of their creation to love and serve God and to collaborate in our salvation, then there must also be spiritual beings who have chosen to not love and serve God and who work toward our destruction.

It has an historical perspective. There can be no doubt that Ms. Rice is an enthusiastic student of Ancient, Medieval and Renaissance history. I am particularly appreciative of the fact that Rice has chosen neither to defame the Church (in a Dan Brown-esque way) nor to ignore her very real faults and failures through the centuries. Especially heartbreaking is the mistreatment of the Jews in Medieval and Renaissance Europe.

On a final note, I thought that a quotation prefacing the book reflects well the overarching theme of the series:

"We are each of us angels with only one wing; and we can only fly by embracing one another."
--Luciano de Crescenzo

Highly recommended.