“The O of Ecstasy”
The lovely poem on St. Teresa by Richard Wilbur that Bob Imbelli posted earlier today seems to me to have in mind the sculpture of St. Teresa in Ecstasy that was designed and made by Bernini for a chapel in the Church of Santa Maria della Vittoria in Rome. Below are two images, one that show the work in some detail and another that shows it in a larger context in the chapel. The erotic character of the work has often been commented on, and not always reverently, particularly by people who are unfamiliar with the erotically charged imagery of the biblical and Christian tradition, ever since the Song of Songs. Teresa’s own description of the moment Bernini’s work represents makes use of erotic language, and in this she continues a long line of writers who knew that it is not only the body that experiences pleasure and delight. I wonder if the work does not illustrate the line with which John Donne ends his famous sonnet: “Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.”
Pardon the interruption, but which Teresa is this? Avila, Lisieux, Benedicta or Calcutta?
It’s Teresa of Avila.
I am familiar with this particular statue and read where one commentator (a female) talk about how it makes one want to run out and join a Carmelite monastery. I thought it was funny.
On a serious note, there is an important point to be made about ecstasy and union with God and the relationship with the body.
I have read some commentary on the mysticism of Theresa of Avila as compared to other apophatic mystics such as her contemporary John of the Cross. She was adamant that in deep experiences of prayer the soul does not leave the body – that there is a unity always with both. I thought that was very interesting.
I think that mysticism of all stripes including Buddhist, Muslim, Jewish and Christian has had a difficult time with the body and how to integrate that into spiritual experience. At the risk of being chauvinist, I think Christianity does the best at it and Theresa of Avila is the exemplar par excellence of a mysticism of the body.
Fr. K–
Thanks, I tend to get them confused. I thought Avila was the melancholic, dark-night-of-the-soul saint, and Lisieux was the raptured one (with Benedicta being the smart one and Calcutta the short one).
Mark: The dark night of the soul is more usually associated with Teresa of Avila’s contemporary John of the Cross. If you read the autobiographies of the two women, you’ll have to revise your brief characterizations of Teresa and of Thérèse of Lisieux, who was content to be a very little, nearly invisible, flower in God’s garden.
This is such a sad thread.
My kid wasn’t told about any of the saints in catechism or confirmation preparation, no choosing a confirmation name like in the olden days. I was ticked that when was received into the Church I was not encouraged to choose a personal patron saint (I’ve had St. Hilda for years, anyway). I asked for her to be included in the litany on the Vigil, but the Church ladies said no.
I fear that knowledge of the saints is passing away from Catholics, and with it a good deal of the richness, wisdom, and heart of Catholicism.
Jean, I think you’re right — and Benedict XVI’s ongoing Wednesday catecheses on the saints and important Christian thinkers is an attempt to address this failing. I find his talk very accessible, but also insightful and sometimes innovative. The Vatican website publishes them each week, although the English translation is usually very slow in coming. There are also some beautiful illustrated editions of the talks that try to match the beauty of holiness with the beauty of art.
Don’t be too sad, Jean, The concept of the saints was a fourth century creation when the martyrs became important to a now vast church which lost its bearings. I do like Theresa of Avila. Despite the embellishments of hagiographers it is still possible to discern that she was an outstanding person. At any rate if your kid and you were taught the Sermon on the Mount you would have been abundantly blessed. As I see it the emphasis on the Saints has resulted in Christian’s abdication of their responsibility to become saints. As if to be a saint is the exception rather than what is expected of Christians. A real paradox.
“As saints became ubiquitous, they also changed their functions. In the
early Christian community the living faithful prayed to God for their dead;
now the dead saint is asked to pray for the living: a whole new liturgy came
into being. As the martyr is , literally, detached from the place of his
martyrdom and made present wherever his relics have become the center of a
cult, so relics began to be seen in a new way…..relics soon became
themselves, the seats of holy power, God’s preferred channels for miraculous
action. A new nexus of social relationships centered around their shrines;
their cult provided ways of securing social cohesion in the locality, and
one of the means on which bishops depended to consolidate their authority.”
The Oxford History of Christianity.pg90.
At the end of his life Bernini completed a similar sculptural scene: Blessed Ludovica Albertoni at the church of San Francesco a Ripa in Trastevere.
http://www.backtoclassics.com/gallery/gianlorenzobernini/beataludovicaalbertoni/
This post reminded me of an incident here at Notre Dame. Michael Buckley, S.J. taught a course on Saint John of the Cross. I asked a student how the course was going. The student replied that Buckley had spent a whole hour discoursing on John’s exclamation “O” at the beginnng of one of the saint’s poems. I asked Mike if that was the case. He replied in his inimitable fashion: “Stuff and nonsense; it was only thirty minutes.”
PS: Neither John nor Teresa ever used the phrase “dark night of the soul” – John did speak of the dark night of the senses and the dark night of faith.
PS #2: Teresa was not gloomy; in fact, she is famous for having prayed to be spared from gloomy saints.
My favorite of Teresa’s works is her Foundations. She gets into the details of her lived experience of working for God, Wilbur’s “God’s barefoot errands in the rocks of Spain.” It reads like Don Quixote, with its characters and shenanigans.
One of the many experiences the Foundations describes with candor is her mix of boldness and fear. She sets out confidently, something goes wrong, she is beset with doubts:
“It seemed impossible to go forward with what I had begun: because, just as up till now all had appeared easy, since it was for God that it was done, so now I was tempted to think so little of His power that it seemed as if I had never received any grace from Him: my own littleness and impotence was all that was present to my mind; and when success depended on such a wretched creature, what could be hoped for? I think I could have borne it better had I been alone; but what was so dreadful was to think of my companions having to go home after the opposition which their departure had raised. It seemed to me too, that now this beginning had gone wrong, there was no possibility of all that I had understood our Lord meant to do further. And an added fear at once arose that what I had understood in my prayer was a delusion. this was not my least distress, but my greatest; because it made me exceedingly afraid that the devil had deceived me. Oh my God! what a thing it is to see a soul whom Thou art pleased to leave to suffer! Certainly, when I remember this misery and some others which I have suffered in these foundations, it seems to me that the bodily sufferings, severe though these have been, were nothing to be compared to them.”
Bill:
Good points. I like to explore the human dimension of saints as well and I think that perhaps modern scholarship and hagiography should include this. I read some time ago “Teresa of Avila and the politcs of sanctity” and it was interesting to read how shrewd she had to be in terms of framing her spiritual message in such a fashion so as not to run afoul of the Inquisition. I think many post-Tridentine saints including St. Ignatius who was right at the cusp struggled with it.
The interesting point is the mistrust of individual and charismatic experience that drove the inquisition process and to a certain extent is still a component of the magisterium’s discernment process.
I am in the process of reading the Autobiograpy of St Ignatius and what leaps out is how difficult in fact it would be for there to be a latter day St Ignatius to emerge in today’s ecclesial climate. Ignatius began his mission as an intinerant lay person learing from mistakes and whoever he encountered. Only later did he seek “official” status. He was under the radar for some time. And there also seemed to be more of an openness to experimentation from the leadership. Additionally, how far removed the actual order is, at least in terms of its reputation in the popular Catholic mind, and Ignatius as an individual.
Is it true that before the Council, the saints of the day were commemorated on Sundays? A homily, then, might include a reference to the saint of the day. Not to decry the emphasis on Sunday, but I wonder if a commemoration of the saints on Sunday–remembering those who already enjoy the Sabbath rest–might add rather than detract from the Paschal character of the Sunday Mass.
Kathy: That’s a good idea. Perhaps there could be some announcement, at least, of the saints whose feastdays would be coming up in the following week, and whose presence we might have in mind when we join in singing the Holy! Holy! Holy! they and the angels are already triumphantly singing.
But I can’t think of any saint’s feast that would have taken the place of a Sunday liturgy, not even with a second oration.
I try to remember to mention the saints whose feasts are being celebrated the coming week during the Eucharistic prayer on Sunday: “together with Mary, the virgin Mother of God, the apostles, the martyrs, Saints NN …”
“Surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us persevere in running the race that lies before us.”
Are people still taught about the communion of saints? To me it’s one of the most powerful of domas. It’s easy to see how devotion to saints can turn into superstition, but some superstitions have their merits. For instance, educated folk will talk about the “symbolic value” of pictures and symbols, while the less sophisticated see them as containing heavenly powers. Is that so far off? And don’t the Orthodox believe that their icons actually contain the spirits of those pictured, that somehow the spirit is immanent in the icon?
Anyway, I think it’s human nature to value communication with loved ones, alive or dead, and to to be inclined to think that they are present somehow among us. You can get too soophisticated.
Did/do the saints pray to the saints?
Two points. First, for those who fear that too much attention paid to the saints can degenerate into superstition, try Robert Ellsberg’s All Saints: Daily Reflections on Saints, Prophets, and Witnesses for Our Time, which includes not only such old favorites as SS. Perpetua and Felicity, but also such as Danilo Dolci, Alfred Delp, Gandhi, Galileo, Flanery O’Connor, John Donne, etc. etc.
Second, I can’t answer Ann Olivier’s question about whether people are still taught about the communion of the saints. I hope so, but I can’t remember when (if ever) I last heard about it in church, apart from the perfunctory mention in the creed. As she does, I’ve always found it a powerful and inspiring belief, and one that is particularly strong and helpful after the death of those we love, in its reminder that our community is a real one that exists not simply in this world.
I like the idea of mentioning the coming week’s saints at Sunday mass.
I am delighted that George noted Teresa’s “shrewdness” in framing her spiritual message with the Inquisition out and about doing its dark work. I would also note that it was not only to God that Teresa decried her littleness and her mistakes, but also to members of the hierarchy. She frequently stroked them with words about their intellectual and spiritual gifts that she assured them were so much more then her own humble offerings. Teresa is a saint for all times.
Fr. K-Thanks for the paternal correction.
Richard–Do you happen to have a link to PBXVI’s Wednesday talks?
Mr.C–Teresa did not have time for the perpetually gloomy among us? I’m liking her even more.
I like the idea of mentioning the coming week’s saints too.
I’m almost afraid to ask, but the “O” of ecstasy refers to what, exactly?
Richard, I, too, like Pope Benedict’s talks on the saints. Early in his papacy he talked about evangelization, noting that the Church’s art and its saints were not only its treasures but its attractions. It’s nice when priests mention feast days (they rarely do), but it would be nice to see an adult study class on the saints. A Melkite friend had such a study at his Church. I attended on session on Mary of Egypt that was fascinating.
Ann, yes, ironic that we believe in the communion of saints (collectively), but are collectively losing the stories of individual saints.
Bill, I have few illusions about embellishments to the lives of the saints; my advanced degree was in Anglo-Saxon hagiography. But I think the lives often transcend the embellishments, and they have been important guides in my own struggles of faith (though I’m sure that, given how badly I’ve turned out, they’d rather not be mentioned by name here!).
Jean said: “I fear that knowledge of the saints is passing away from Catholics –”
Considering the “wealth” of questionable “saints” made by JPII and now B16 (JPII fer instance), maybe that is a good thing!
In the course of my life I have met more than a few saints, and none of them were dead nor were they so anointed by HMTC.
I often mention the communion of saints in homilies or during the liturgy, and not just on the feasts of All Saints and All Souls. I think it’s an important aspect of our Catholic faith, a sense that the communion that is the Church expands beyond us wanderers to include those whose journey is done and those yet to begin theirs, down to the last of the just.
Jimmy, perhaps it’s worthwhile remembering that many of the saints could hardly be called toadies to the hierarchs. And, of course, in the very old days, saints were declared by popular acclaim, by those who knew them best. Certainly there are–and were–political aspects to many canonizations. But the example of the saints–and how they were canonized–is an important part of the Church’s history. To forget the saints is to lose important examples of sanctity.
Very minor point of interest, I’ve been corresponding with some nice ladies at St. Werburgh’s Catholic Church in Chester, UK. I’ve been trying to discover at what point in history her mantle or girdle, used to help women in childbirth, disappeared–or whether it ever existed. St. W. was a real person, and her achievements well known. There are some spurious aspect in her vita, but even these are important. Hagiographical legend accrues like layers in an archaeological site. To throw these stories away because they are not literally true is to ignore important beliefs and attitudes of our ancestors in the faith.
OK, sorry for rambling.
When teaching about the church I like to talk about the Communion of Saints to help erase the idea that the church is merely a sociological reality of those who are counted as Catholic in the here and now. The Roman Eucharistic canon is a wonderful resource for getting that larger sense of communion with its rollcall of saints venerated in Rome and its invocation of the memory of both the living and the dead.
The communion of saints is a solid idea. We should remember and celebrate those who have gone before us. But we should see that the naming of saints is deeply flawed as we can too easily see in our own times. There is just no room for doubt about this.
Lawrence, I like your approach. Too bad you can’t get that sort of thing outside of academia.
Bill, I don’t follow you. Doubt about what? Why do you think the naming of saints is deeply flawed? Are you objecting to the previous papacy’s high volume canonizations? Or something flawed in the whole idea of naming any saints?
It seems to me that when you start ditching elements of your holy tradition you run the risk of becoming just another do-gooder club. As Lent approaches, the local parish’s Men’s Club is already planning its fish frys with the attendant debates about whether to put the seasonings in the BOTTOM of the baking pan or on TOP of the cod; how to tell one of the members that he may NOT bring his bossy wife into the kitchen to supervise (no, said wife is NOT me); and, of course, whether to bring back the crowd-pleasing but expensive hush puppies.
Honestly, if there is a patron saint of fish frys, someone please let me know, and I’ll start up a perpetual novena and try to get this controversies ironed out.
Jean, not the previous papacy. All of them. Even the suggestion of papal infallibility is so foreign a thought to the gospels. I like your example of the fish frys. That is exactly what makes saints popular. We can act like that as long as we have such intercessors. To speak clearly, many of those named saints do not deserve the name. Pope Damasus is one. Nor is Augustine a saint. To name someone a saint who ordered soldiers to use force Christians is as contrary to the gospel as one can get. His eastern counterpart, Athanasius is also quite questionable. Study the words of Marcus which I quote above. That might help you follow me.
I had no idea hush puppies were expensive!
Bill, I would wager none of us DESERVES to go to heaven, and that would include the saints. And, yes, I have saints of whom I’m dubious, but I don’t pray to them.
Kathy, when you buy your fish fry supplies in bulk from a single food supplier, the costs are lower. This particular has not raised food prices, but has dropped the hush puppies.
A majority faction in the Men’s Club argues that getting only hush pupplies from another supplier that charges more, or purchasing the hush puppies separately would add expense and reduce profits, ergo the fish fry is puppy-less.
A minority faction argues that the hush puppies bring in more diners and so would be worth the extra money.
A few who suggested the prices be raised to accommodate the hush puppies were shouted down b/c the cost is already $8, and you can get an all-you-can eat deal on Fridays at the Big Boy for just $6.99.
The hated bossy wife of one of the members could come in and make them from scratch–she is an excellent cook–but then half the Men’s Club would quit.
The priest, who has suffered many health problems and depression ever since he was transferred here from a parish he served for 30 years, has refused to arbitrate in the dispute, possibly to sow enough discontent in the ranks of the Men’s Club to weaken it.
There is a continuing undercurrent of resentment between the club and the priest b/c the club keeps its funds in a separate account and forces the priest to come a-begging when he needs funds.
Anyway, he rarely attends the fish frys due to the fact that Michigan law no longer allows smoking in the parish hall, and he goes to Vegas for two weeks during Lent to rest up for the big Holy Week-Easter observances.
I know people hate it when I post this type of thing because it drags down the whole tone of the thread, and it always seems like my totally irrelevant personal problem. But the parable of the hush puppies plays out in parishes around the world (“The Little World of Don Camillo” is full of such squabbles), and, in my view, anybody who can serve on a parish board or other committee without losing his or her faith ought to be automatically canonized.
To dismiss the veneration of the saints tout court is just silly. It is part of the heritage of both the churches of the East and the West. Is it too vain of me to suggest that in addition to the late Robert Markus (whom I knew well; he was a visiting professor here at Notre Dame) one might consult my little contribution to the subject in my book A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE SAINTS (Oxford: Blackwell, 2005)? I realize that in responding to Bill M.
is something I will most likely rue.
Teresa of Avila is one of my favorites. Her student/protege John of the Cross gets more ink, but she has a delightful no-nonsense quality, even with her frequent self-disparagement, perhaps intended to deflect the attention of the prideful and powerful. For example she remarks that God may be teaching “some old woman” secrets of mystical prayer beyond the imaginations of her ecclesiastical higher-ups–thus wrapping an authority claim in the mantle of humility.
Humility isn’t just a rhetorical defense-strategy, though–for her it is a true marker of progress in prayer. But there is such a thing as false humility that undercuts the essence of prayer. She writes:
“Avoid being bashful with God, as some people are, in the belief that they are being humble. . . . A fine humility it would be, if I had the emperor of heaven and earth in my house, coming to it to do me a favor and to delight in my company, and I were so humble that I would not answer his questions, nor remain with him, nor accept what he gave me, but left him alone. . . . Have nothing to do with that kind of humility, daughters, but speak with him as a father, a brother, a Lord and a spouse.”
Lisa — St. Teresa is one of a kind in many ways:-) Even some of the ultra[feminists are giving her a hearing.
Jean — Funny:-) St. Teresa would approve.
How about this multiplicity of saints:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calendar_of_saints_(Church_of_England)
or these names:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saints_in_Anglicanism#Modern_Anglican_Saints
or this stripped-down version:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Calendar_of_Saints_(Lutheran)
and then there is this approach:
“Presbyterians believe that all saved people are saints and we are not saved by what we do but by what Christ has done for us.” http://en.allexperts.com/q/Presbyterians-959/Catholicism-vs-Presbyterianism.htm
I will NOT, however, go for the Latter Day Saints approach!
Jimmy Mac ==
I just scanned them quickly, but those lists of feast days are fascinating. The Church of England one has very few pre-Reformation Catholics, especially medieval ones and non-English ones, though Aquinas, Francis of Assissi, Teresa of Avila, Catherine of Siena, and Ignatius of Loyola and a few others are included. Amazingly Thomas a Becket and Thomas More are included.
Though the Lutheran one has a lot of blank days, I think the list is more interesting. Abraham, Isaac, David — I wish we celebrated them. Some great medievals are included (e.g., Benedict, Dominic, and Aquinas), Their saints are mostly Germans, but they also include MLK,Jr, Seattle (an Indian chief), St. Patrick, and Oscar Romero. (A bit ahead of us there, I’d say.)
Given how many Protestants protest veneration of saints, i think that these lists reveal something about human nature — the impulse to celebrate individual saints within a communion of saints is very powerful.
I know people hate it when I post this type of thing because it drags down the whole tone of the thread…
Not me. I’m a J. F. Powers fan.
Jimmy, I go here when I need to find a saint:
http://saints.sqpn.com/
Speaking of Presbyterians, possibly St. Pascal Baylon could help out those folks struggling with dissent in the ranks of the fish fryers. (St. Pascal had an altercation with some Calvinists about the doctrine of the real presence, and so would be good at intervening on behalf of squabbling factions.)
http://saints.sqpn.com/saint-pascal-baylon/
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