Progressing in Prayer
Share
Have you ever sat with someone you love so deeply that words seemed unnecessary? Perhaps it was beside a hospital bed, holding the hand of someone dear, or watching a sunset with your spouse of many years, or simply being present with a friend in their grief. In those moments, the most profound communication often happens in silence—a squeeze of the hand saying more than a thousand words, a knowing glance conveying volumes of understanding. If human love can transcend the need for words, how much more can our communication with the Divine move beyond the boundaries of verbal expression?
This question brings us to one of the most practical yet profound discussions in spiritual literature: the nature of prayer itself. St. Teresa of Ávila, the 16th-century Spanish mystic and Doctor of the Church, offers us a revolutionary understanding of prayer that challenges our common assumptions and opens doorways to depths of spiritual intimacy many never knew existed.
The Democracy of Prayer
Teresa begins with a startling assertion in her masterwork, The Interior Castle: mental prayer is not some advanced technique reserved for cloistered religious, but rather the birthright of every Christian. She writes, “Mental prayer, in my opinion, is nothing else than an intimate sharing between friends; it means taking time frequently to be alone with Him who we know loves us” (The Way of Perfection, 8.5).
Notice the simplicity of her definition—prayer as intimate sharing between friends. Yet Teresa recognizes that many souls remain trapped in purely verbal prayer, reciting words without engagement of the heart or mind. She observes with characteristic directness: "It is one thing to pray vocally... and another to understand with whom we are speaking, and who we are who dare to speak so much with so great a Lord" (The Interior Castle, First Mansions, 1.7).
This distinction strikes at the heart of a common spiritual malady. How often do we rush through our prayers, our lips moving while our minds wander to tomorrow's meeting or yesterday's argument? The prophet Isaiah’s words echo across the centuries: "This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me" (Isaiah 29:13, ESV). Teresa understood that such prayer, while perhaps satisfying a sense of duty, fails to cultivate the transformative relationship with God that lies at the heart of Christian life.
The Architecture of the Soul
To understand Teresa's vision of prayer's progression, we must enter her Interior Castle, that magnificent allegory of the soul's journey toward divine union. She envisions the soul as a crystal castle with seven mansions or dwelling places, each representing a deeper level of spiritual intimacy and self-knowledge.
In the First Mansions, souls practice primarily vocal prayer, which is often mechanical, distracted by what Teresa calls "the reptiles and vermin" outside the castle. As souls progress to the Second and Third Mansions, mental prayer becomes more prominent. Here, Christians begin to practice what Teresa calls "recollection"—the gentle gathering of our scattered faculties to focus on God's presence. In these mansions, active meditation on Scripture and divine truths becomes central.
The Transition to Contemplation
The revolutionary moment in Teresa's schema comes in the Fourth Mansions, where the soul transitions from active mental prayer to the beginnings of infused contemplation. Here, human effort begins to give way to divine action. Teresa uses the famous analogy of two fountains:
The Aqueduct: Water filled through elaborate systems, requiring human effort (representing active meditation).
The Spring: Water fed directly by its own source, which is God (representing contemplative prayer where God acts directly upon the soul).
"The water which comes through aqueducts," she explains, "corresponds to the spiritual consolations which... are drawn from meditation... But with [contemplative prayer], the water comes from its own source, which is God" (Interior Castle, Fourth Mansions, 2.4). This transition challenges the common assumption that effort equals advancement. As we progress, our prayer often becomes simpler, less wordy, and more receptive. The Psalmist captured this truth: "Be still, and know that I am God" (Psalm 46:10, ESV).
The Higher Mansions: When Love Transcends Words
In the Fifth, Sixth, and Seventh Mansions, the soul enters increasingly profound states of union with God. Here, verbal prayer often ceases entirely, not from laziness but because the soul is so absorbed in God's presence that words become superfluous, even obstructive. Teresa describes experiences of spiritual betrothal and marriage, where the human faculties—memory, understanding, and will—are suspended, completely absorbed in God.
She writes of the prayer of union: "The soul is fully awake as regards God, but wholly asleep regarding things of this world and to itself" (Interior Castle, Fifth Mansions, 1.4). Though this may seem esoteric, Teresa insists these experiences represent the natural flowering of a prayer life faithfully cultivated, fulfilling Jesus’ promise: "If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him" (John 14:23, ESV).
The Integration of Mental and Verbal Prayer
Crucially, Teresa never suggests abandoning vocal prayer entirely. Even souls in the highest mansions return to it, but their prayers are transformed. The Our Father, prayed by someone who has experienced divine union, becomes a completely different reality than the same words recited mechanically. Teresa dedicates extensive sections of The Way of Perfection to the Our Father, showing that its phrases contain depths that can occupy a soul for a lifetime.
Augustine captured this truth centuries earlier: "When we pray to God with words, we must not think that we are informing Him of something He does not know... Rather, we are disposing ourselves to receive what He is always ready to give" (Letter 130, to Proba). The difference lies not in the words, but in the disposition of the soul speaking them.
Practical Applications for Modern Christians
How can Teresa's profound insights transform our daily spiritual practice?
Begin Where You Are: Start with faithful, attentive vocal prayer. Choose one prayer—perhaps the Our Father—and pray it slowly, pausing to consider what each phrase means, to whom you're speaking, and who you are in relation to this God.
Practice Daily Recollection: Set aside even ten minutes daily for mental prayer. Begin by placing yourself in God's presence, perhaps imagining Christ beside you or within you. Then, simply speak to Him as a friend, sharing your concerns, your joys, and your struggles honestly, avoiding flowery language.
Embrace Sacred Reading (Lectio Divina): Mental prayer feeds on content. Regular reading of Scripture, particularly the Gospels, provides material for meditation. As you read, pause when a word or phrase strikes you, turning it over in your mind like a jewel.
Welcome Simplicity: If you find yourself drawn to simply rest in God's presence without words or thoughts, don't resist. This might be God's invitation to a simpler, more contemplative mode of prayer. Let go of the need to "work" at prayer and practice "just being" with the One who loves you.
Conclusion
The great lesson of St. Teresa of Ávila is that prayer is not a performance; it is a relationship. It is a journey from the outer chambers of mere duty and words to the innermost chamber where we discover that the King already resides. Our spiritual growth is marked not by the quantity of our petitions, but by the quality of our presence.
The ultimate goal of the spiritual life is a friendship so intimate that words become redundant, replaced by the profound, transformative language of the heart. By faithfully cultivating mental prayer, we move from reciting words about God to resting in God, preparing our souls for the silent, eternal conversation of love that awaits us.
Dare to enter the castle. Dare to be alone with the One who loves you, and let your heart speak when your words fail.