The exercise of the Presence of God in prayer - advice and inspiration for the coming feast of St John of the Crosss

I have changed the mode of this post into expandable one for the readers convenience. The post is updated as often as possible in the month of November, dedicated to Saint John of the Cross. We celebrate his feast-day on 24th of November, therefore, we may reflect on the exercise of the presence of God, the practice of great importance in mental prayer and recollection. Saint John of the Cross and Saint Teresa were expert on the topic. Another Carmelite Saint, Lawrence of the Resurrection, was also renown for his devotion to the practice of the presence of God.

The presence of God is the application of the soul to God, conceived in an intellectual or imaginary manner. Therefore, following this twofold manner of conceiving the thought of God one may distinguish twofold presence of God, imaginary and intellectual. For example, if one should represent to oneself sensible things by means of corporeal images, as are, for example, the circumstances of the Passion of Christ, this would be an imaginary presence of God: but reflecting on on intellectual things, such as the goodness, greatness and justice of God, this would be an intellectual presence of God, as nearly all is accomplished by the understanding without the help of the imagination. The exercise of the presence of God is suitable to all parts of mental prayer; wherefore ascetical authors generally speak of it as the first rule to observe in order to meditate well. St Teresa also recommends it as the first act of mental prayer:

"...After having humbled yourself before God", she says, and made the sign of the cross, try without delay, since you are alone, to find a companion, but what company is more preferable to that of the divine Master?"(Way of perfection, 27).
"The soul may represent to herself Jesus Christ as if He were before her. This is an excellent method to make progress in a very short time. This practice of always having Jesus Christ present to the mind, is useful in all states of prayer. it is sure means by which to derive profit in the first state, to arrive in a short time at the second, and to guard against the illusions of the demon in the last". (Life, 12)
St John of the Cross begins by laying down the dogma of Faith, on which this holy exercise is based: God really dwells in the soul.
"God can be present in the soul in three different ways. First is His essence. This essential presence of of God is the lot not only of holy and virtuous souls, but also of those that are criminal and enslaved in mortal sins, and even of all creatures. God communicates being and life to them all; without Him, they would cease to exist and fall back into nothingness. The soul, therefore, never loses this presence. By the second kind of presence, which is sanctifying grace, God dwells in the soul and takes His delights there. All souls do not enjoy this presence; those that fall into mortal sin are deprived of it, and nobody can know, in a natural and certain manner, that he possesses it. Finally God makes Himself present in the soul by the effects of spiritual love, which become perceptible in pious souls in many different ways, filling them with consolations, delight and joy. Nevertheless, this kind of spiritual presence is veiled, like the preceding kinds, in which God does not show Himself such as He is, because the condition of this miserable life does not permit of it. The essential presence of God endows the soul with natural existence; His spiritual presence raises her to perfection." (Spiritual Canticle, St.I)

The soul is therefore assured that God is always present to her at least by His essence.

"In truth, the Word, the Son of God, dwells essentially with the Father and the Holy Ghost in the most intimate depth of the soul, where He hides Himself. The Prophet Isaiah addressing himself to the Lord, says: 'Thou art truly a hidden God' (45:15), God therefore dwells in secret in every soul, hidden in their substance. But He dwells there under very different conditions. He is in solitude with some, while with others He is not alone: He abides with pleasure here, but there He remains only with repugnance; with the one He is in His own house where He both reigns and governs at the same time, while with others He is as a stranger, in the house of another, in which He is not given the right to command or to act.
It is in the soul that has retained the least sensible appetites and natural taste that God dwells more perfectly alone, that he enjoys most consolation, and that He is more really as in His own house, where He directs and governs all things according to His good pleasure. He dwells there in a secrecy the more absolute as He is there more alone. Thus in that soul in which there are neither appetites, nor imaginations, nor forms of creatures, the Well-Beloved dwells in impenetrable secrecy. he causes her to enjoy a union closer and more intimate in proportion as she is more perfectly purified, more wholly disengaged from all that is not God. " (Flame of Love, St 4)
Thus the soul that wishes to find God, must separate herself from all that is created, by her affection and will, and enter into herself by a recollection so profound that all creatures may be to her as if they did not exist. This is the reason why St Augustine (Sol. 40:31) speaking to God, as we read in the book of his Soliloquies, says: "I found Thee not, O Lord, outside myself: I was deceived in thus seeking Thee: I sought Thee not aright, since Thou wast in my interior". God is therefore hidden in the soul; it is there we must seek Him, with faith and with love, without wishing to find either satisfaction or joy in any created thing. Faith and love will be your guides; they will guide you by unknown paths, to the retreat where God dwells. (Spiritual Canticle, St I)
O most beautiful of the creatures of God, who desires so ardently to know the place where your Beloved is, in order to seek for Him and to unite yourself to Him, you are yourself the retreat where He shelters, the dwelling place where he hides Himself: a thing most consoling and calculating to fill with joy; your Beloved, your treasure, your only hope is so near you that he dwells with in you, and, in truth, you cannot be without Him. has not the divine Spouse declared: "The kingdom of God is within you'? (St Luke 17:21). And His servant St Paul adds: "You are the temple of god (2Cor 6:16). No, God never goes away from the soul, even when she is in mortal sin, much less when she is in the state of grace. How advantageous it is for her to understand this consoling truth! What more can you wish for or seek outside yourself, O Soul, since you possess in yourself your riches, your pleasures, your satisfactions, your satiety, your kingdom, that is to say, your Beloved, the object of your desires and search? Be glad and rejoice wit Him in your interior recollection, since He is so near you. Love Him, desire Him, adore Him and go not outside yourself to seek Him; that would distract you and fatigue you in vain, and you would not enjoy Him more certainly, more promptly, nor more intimately. (Flame of Love, St 4:3)

A sublime vision with which God favoured St Teresa, confirms the doctrine of Saint John of the Cross.

One day, while we were all assembled in the choir for the minor Hours, it pleased God to favour me with the following grace. Being profoundly recollected, I saw on a sudden my soul under the form of a bright mirror, without sides, without back, top to bottom, but brilliant in every part. In the centre our Lord Jesus appeared to me, as He usually does; yet I saw Him in all the parts of my soul as if He were there reflected; and this mirror of my soul, in its turn, I know not how, imprinted itself wholly in our Lord by an ineffable communication, but all full of love. I can affirm that this vision was very advantageous to me, and is still does me the greatest good every time I recall it, especially after communion. By means of the light that was given me, I saw how, from the moment a soul commits a mortal sin, this mirror is covered with a thick cloud and remains extremely black; so that our Lord cannot be represented nor seen therein, although He is always present in as much as He gives it existence. As to heretics, it is as if the mirror were broken, an incomparably greater misfortune than if it were merely obscured. There is a great difference between seeing this and saying it: one can only with great difficulty explain such a thing. I repeat, I have derived the most precious advantages from it; but how often also have I not been penetrated with sorrow, by the remembrance of the offences by which I have so often obscured my soul, and deprived myself of the sight of so good a Master.
This union is excellent, in my opinion, to teach persons who are habitually recollected, to consider our Lord in the most intimate part of their soul. The advantage of such a method is visible: it makes us find God in ourselves, without its being necessary to raise ourselves by our thoughts to heaven, thus sparing us an effort which fatigues the mind, distracts the soul, and makes us gather less fruit. (St Teresa Life Ch 40).

Saint John of the Cross and Saint Teresa add that there are souls arrived at a very high perfection, who constantly feel within them this real presence of God.

To the soul that has reached this high perfection, God is not hidden; she has perfect consciousness of Him, and ordinarily finds in Him ineffable delights. God resides without repugnance with those others, who are not yet arrived at perfect union; but as they are not yet entirely disposed for this eminent  favour, He dwells in the secretly. Moreover, ordinarily, they do not feel His presence, which is manifested only at certain intervals. (St John of the Cross 'Flame of Love' St 4, v3)

The first time that Saint Teresa experienced this presence of God in her soul, she was seized with astonishment, because she was ignorant of this doctrine of the real presence of God in us, and yet she could not doubt that she truly felt God in her soul. This is how she relates it:

I know a person (the Saint alludes to herself) who knew not that God was in all things by His essence, presence and power, and who, after being favoured by the grace of which I speak, believed it in the most unshaken manner. In vain did one of these half-learned men, of whom she asked who God was in us, and who knew not more than she herself before she was enlightened, asnswer her that God was in us only by His grace; she would not at all believe this answer, so sure was she of the truth. Afterwards she enquired of truly learned people, and as they confirmed her in her belief, she was very much consoled by it. (St Teresa, Interior Castle, 5th Mansion, Ch. I).

You must not think that this certitude has anything corporeal for its object, as in the case of the real though invisible body of our Lord Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. No, nothing of the kind; there is question here only of the Divinty. But how, you may ask me, can we have so great a certitude of what we do not see? To that, I can only answer: it is one of the secret of the Omnipotence of God into which it is not for me to penetrate. Yet I am sure I speak the truth. Regarding these spiritual things, we are not to seek for reasons to know how they happen. Our mind not being capable of understanding them, we should torment ourselves uselessly. Let it suffice us to consider that the power of Him who works these wonders is infinite.
On this subject, I call to mind what the Spouse of the Canticle says: "The King introduced me into his cellars of wine". You see she does not say she entered them of herself. She again says "that she went everywhere seeking her Beloved." In my opinion, this mysterious winecellar is the centre of our soul, into which God introduces us when He pleases, but into which all our efforts could never give us entrance. I repeat that it belongs only to God to bring us there. The only concurrence He asks of us is, a will entirely submissive to His. O my daughters, what great things we should see, if we always kept our eyes open to our vileness and our misery, and if we learned to understand to understand that we are not worthy to be the servants of this great God whose perfections and marvels overwhelm our understandings! May He be praised for ever! Amen (St John of the Cross, 'Flame of Love', St 4, 2).

In her commentaries upon the "Our Father", at these words: "Who art in heaven", Saint Teresa develops admirably the doctrine of Saint John of the Cross.

"Let us follow the lesson of our divine Master, and see what he understands by these words: "Who art in heaven." Take great care, my daughters, not to think that it is of little importance to know what is in heaven, and where we must go to seek our tender and adorable Father. It is on the contrary of the greatest importance for those of distracted minds, not only to believe the truth contained in these words, but also to neglect nothing in order to have an experimental knowledge of it; for it is one of the considerations most apt to arrest the understanding and to bring the soul to recollection.
You already know that God is in every place: now, as wherever the king is, there is the court, so wherever God is, there is heaven. You can receive as an undoubted truth, that where His divine Majesty is, there will be found also all glory.
St Augustine tells us that after having long sought for God in the objects that surrounded him, he found Him at last within himself. Meditate upon this saying profoundly; for it is eminently useful to a soul that has difficulty in recollection, to understand such a truth: - to know that it is not necessary for her to rise herself to heaven to commune with her divine Father, and to find near Him her delights, nor to speak loudly to be heard by Him. He is so near to us that he hears the least movement of our lips, even the most secret word. We have no need of wings to seek Him; let us go into solitude and enter into ourselves; it is there He dwells. (St Teresa, "Way of perfection" Ch 29)
...more to follow...

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Why men do not pray, several most common excuses re-visited - click to read

"And very often, for some years, I was more anxious that the hour I had determined to spend in prayer be over than I was to remain there, and more anxious to listen for the striking of the clock than to attend to other good things. And I don’t know what heavy penance could have come to mind that frequently I would not have gladly undertaken rather than recollect myself in the practice of prayer" (St. Teresa of Avila 'The Autobiography', pp. 97-98).

...Far from being a dreamer’s escape, prayer requires a good deal of mettle, which many of us lack. Again, without courage we won’t get very far in the Christian life, even in something as basic as prayer.

Prayer is a Christian duty, to be sure, but even more it is a privilege. Our God is not an unapproachable legislator or a distant, indifferent watchmaker, but a Father personally interested in his children. Christ revealed to us a God who listens, a God who has counted every hair on your head, a God who hastens to give good things to those who ask him. The same almighty Lord who spoke a single word and all things came to be, now bends his ear to listen to every word that you utter. Let us take to heart the words so often repeated in the liturgy: Let us pray! There is simply no better use of our time....
 

Diptych of young man praying before the image of Our Lady with the Infant Jesus who is blessing him, by unknown Flemish master.

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Holy Communion unites you with Christ - a chapter from "The meaning of Life" by Archb AS Goodier

In the moments of preparation, receiving and thanksgiving for the Holy Communion, we have unique opportunity to develop the custom of genuine and spontaneous contemplation while adoring the Lord who comes to be united with us. The examples cited are all no more than suggestions to follow, so as the author says, "every soul is different, so will each have its own form of self-expression. Let it choose as it will and pray in the way it finds best."

St Teresa thoughts on Holy Communion:

I cannot say this without tears and great joy of soul! How You desire, Lord, thus to be with us and to be present in the Sacrament...You would be glad to be with us since You say that Your delight is to be with children of the earth. (1:138)

Sometimes...after receiving Communion I was at peace. And sometimes in approaching the Sacrament I felt at once so good in soul and body that I was surprised. It seems that in only a moment all the darkness of the soul disperse. (I:260)

When I approached to receive Communion and recalled the extraordinary majesty I had seen and considered that it was present in the Blessed Sacrament (the Lord often desires that I behold it in the host),....the whole experience seemed to annihilate me. (I:337)

O Wealth of the poor, how admirably You know how to sustain souls!...When I behold majesty as extraordinary as this concealed in something as small as the host, it happens afterward that I marvel at wisdom so wonderful. (I:337)

There is an instinct in us all, no matter how unaccustomed we may be to pray, that seems to tell us that if ever our prayer should be real and from the depth of the soul, it should be at the moment of Holy Communion. If the Blessed Sacrament is that which, on the authority of our Lord's own words, we believe it to be, His own true Body and Blood Soul and Divinity, there must no imitation, there must be a strong soul's genuine expression of itself, whenever we receive it into ourselves. Hence, the universal custom of regular preparation for Communion and regular thanksgiving after it, which in practice are made of almost as much account as the receiving of the Sacrament itself. Hence, too, the further common custom of spending the first moments after Communion in intent contemplation, as if we feared that the use of a book or anything else that might help our prayer might be almost a desecration of a moment so solemn.

Undoubtedly, the instinct is a good one, and both the resulting practices are good. At the same time, as with all things good, the importance of both can be exaggerated: preparation and thanksgiving are very often far from being the sacrament itself. To one who is wholly unaccustomed to contemplation, a book may help prayer when without it the soul will be wholly distracted, but not on that account should we decline to make the effort. Rightly understood, contemplation is less beyond our range than is sometimes assumed, and there are none who may not attain to it in some degree.
The following method of preparation and thanksgiving for Holy Communion is built upon this first principle. It is an easy form of contemplation . It is drawn from the three most elementary facts of Holy Communion. It is intended to be going on, no matter at what moment Communion is received, so that it is at once preparation and thanksgiving. It is reduced to be fewest possible words, for by many words, contemplation is often distracted. Instead, it endeavors to take the affections that are immediately suggested, crystallizes them in a single sentence, and offers them to the communicant to be held in the mind and meant by the heart for so long as mind and heart are able to retain them.
What, then, is the Holy Communion? It contains three facts: the fact of Jesus Christ, its Substance; the fact of myself, its recipient; the fact of the union between Him and myself, from which Communion takes its name. These three facts make three points, and they contain enough, for they suggest affections that will stay.

The fact of Jesus Christ. The moment I say this to myself, meaning it, I make an act of faith. Hence, with St John in the boat on Lake Tiberias I say, and repeat with even more realized meaning, "It is the Lord" (John 21:7). Or with the poor man appealing for his cure: "Lord, I believe, help Thou my unbelief."(Mark 9:23). Or with St Peter, I can cry with my whole heart, "Thou art Christ, the Son of the living God." (Matt 16:16)
Knowledge is the forerunner of love. Of how many men and women is it said that to know them is to love them! And if this is true for ordinary mortals, how much more truer it be for our Lord!
The act of faith, then, persisted in and meant, insensibly develops into an act of love. If we go on saying and meaning, "Lord, I believe," we shall soon find ourselves saying: "Lord, I love." So in the words of Peter let my thoughts express themselves: "Lord, Thou knowest that I love Thou. Thou knowest all things: Thou knowest that I love Thou."(John 21:16, 17). Or with the spouse in the Canticle: "I to my Beloved, and my Beloved to me." (Cant. 6:2; or RSV = Song of Sol. 6:2). Or I can keep the words of a Kempis echoing in my heart: "Love Him, and keep Him for thy friend who, when all leave thee, will not forsake thee, nor suffer thee to perish in the end." (Thomas a Kempis, Imitation of Christ, Bk 2. ch.7).
But when I say this, I find that my act of love is insensibly going a step further. As knowledge leads to love, so love expresses itself in confidence and trust. As, then, an act of faith leads insensibly to an act of love, so an act of love falls naturally into an act of hope. Hence, once again with St Peter we say: "Lord, to whom shall we go? Thou hast the words of eternal life." (John 6:69; or RSV = John 6:68), or with the psalmist, "The Lord is my Shepherd; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the keeper of my soul; before whom shall I tremble?" (Ps 22:1, 26: 1; or RSV = Ps. 23:1, 27:1). Or with the writer of Te Deum: "In Thee, O Lord, I have hoped; I shall not be confounded forever."

The fact of myself. What a contrast! What an opposite extreme! In circumstances such as these, in associations such as these, how inevitable is the act of humility, the act of self-abasement, whether we are saying with St Elizabeth, "Whence is this to me that my Lord should come to me?" (Luke 1:43) or with the soldier, "Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst enter under my roof," (Matt 8:8), or with the psalmist, "What is man that Thou shouldst be mindful of him or the son of man that Thou shouldst visit him?" (Ps. 8:5 (RSV = Ps 8:4). Not only of my nature am I, who am but dust and ashes, even at my best, but the work of His hands, compelled to humble myself before our Lord. I am lower down than that. I have lowered myself still more by misuse of that which He has made, by infidelity to Him, by sinfulness. In this way and that I have offended Him and soiled myself. So, as I approached Him, I can only say, "Lord, be merciful to me a sinner" (Luke 18:13). Or with the prodigal, "Father, I have sinned against Heaven and in Thy sight, I am no longer worthy to be called Thy son." (Luke 15:21). Or, in the words of the Miserere, "have mercy on me, O God, according to Thy great mercy." (Ps 50:3, RSV = Ps 51:1)
And yet, even while I speak, "While I am yet a great way off," (Luke 15:20), He, like the father of the prodigal, comes to me and embraces me. This is the matter of fact; unworthy as I am, stained as I am and in rags, He will take me as I am if I will come. So I cannot refuse, I can only say, "take, O Lord, and receive all my liberty." (Prayer of St Ignatius of Loyola). I can only cry, "Into Thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit." (Luke 23:46). I can only plead, offering myself to Him in the meantime: "Lord, he whom Thou lovest is sick." (John 11:3)

The fact of the union. This is the climax. My Lord and I are brought together, made actually one, so far as that is possible. It is not to be wondered at that, at that moment, words seem to fail us. We can only adore, and adoration is best expressed by silence. Our thoughts can only repeat with St Thomas, "My Lord and my God", (John 2:28) or the words of the Te Deum: "Thou, O Christ, art the King of Glory," or with the other St Thomas: "Hidden Godhead, devoutly I adore Thee."
When at length, as it were, I recover my power of speech, and my heart longs to express itself, what else can it do but break out in words of thanksgiving? It says with the priest in the Mass, "What return shall I make to the Lord for all He had given to me?" (Ps 115:12 RSV = Ps 116:12). Or, "We praise Thee; we bless Thee; we adore Thee; we glorify Thee; we give Thee thanks." Or, again, in the words of St Paul: "Christ loved me, and gave Himself up for me," (Gal. 2 :20). But there is no gratitude, no proof of confidence, greater than that which makes further appeals; and even while I thank Him for all that He is, and for all that He has done, I seem to hear Him say, "Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name. Ask and you shall receive, that your joy may be filled." (John 16:24). So I turn my prayer, or my prayer turns itself, to one of petition - that I myself may do His will: "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" (Acts 9:6); that His will may be done in and by all His creatures: "Hallowed be Thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven"; and that if this thing or that, dear to my heart, for myself or for another, is in accordance with His will, it may be granted.
This is, of course, no more than a suggestion and a guide. The variety of acts that each might make for himself is very great; the brief prayers that might be given are infinite. And as every soul is different, so will each have its own form of self-expression. Let it choose as it will and pray in the way it finds best.

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