CASTLES IN THE AIR: LITURGIES WITHOUT LOVE

In The Interior Castle, Theresa of Avila establishes an ascetical framework of monastic life centered on drawing proper attention to spiritual formation as the basis for acts of piety. In the selection under study here, from chapter twelve, Theresa highlights the dichotomy of human insufficiency when compared with divine sufficiency. Proceeding from here, Theresa ushers her audience into a meditation on the life of prayer directed at mortification and ultimately at self-giving, such that the practitioner comes to experience in their ordered interior life the virtue of charity and in so doing is firmly rooted in the love of God, thus to avoid the creation of what she terms a “castle in the air.”

Theresa initiates her discussion of “castles in the air” by discussing its opposite in the practice of diligence: “First, we must always ask God in prayer to sustain us, and very often think that if He abandons us we will soon end in the abyss, as is true; and we must never trust in ourselves since it would be foolish to do so” (155). One observes in both clauses the same thought expressed in both positive and negative form. First, Theresa exhorts her audience to trust in God as though He were one’s only hope. This is contrasted, in the second clause, with trust in oneself. Structurally, this binary of the sufficiency of God on the one hand, and the insufficiency of the self on the other, gives shape to the remainder of the discourse. 

Theresa continues: “Then, we should walk with special care and attention, observing how we are proceeding in the practice of virtue: whether we are getting better or worse in some areas, especially in love for one another, in the desire to be considered the least among the Sisters, and in the performance of ordinary tasks. For if we look out for these things and ask the Lord to enlighten us, we will soon see the gain or the loss” (155-6). Swiftly proceeding from her theological-anthropological principle, Theresa establishes its ethical implications in the disciplines of vigilance, self-examination, charity, humility, and good works. For Theresa, progress in love is ever the goal: “Let this, in sum, be the conclusion: that we strive always to advance. And if we don’t advance, let us walk with great fear” (156). Spiritual progress is the end-goal of her ethics, which are entirely subjected to this end.

It is against the backdrop of this ethics of spiritual movement that one more clearly sees the metaphorical framework of Theresa’s ensuing focus on the interiority of the Christian life: “Let us desire and be occupied in prayer not for the sake of our enjoyment but so as to have this strength to serve. Let’s refuse to take an unfamiliar path, for we shall get lost at the most opportune time. It would indeed be novel to think of having these favors from God through a path other than the one He took and the one followed by all His saints.” (156). At the heart of her exhortation is the mortification of sensuality, as reflected in her use of “enjoyment.” The practice of prayer, so central to her ethics, is not to be an avenue for gratification but rather takes on a concern for efficiency in assisting one’s self-giving. Moreover, one observes the mortification of innovation as well, urging instead the configuration of one’s habit of prayer to the example of the Lord and His saints. In so doing, Theresa strips her ascetical program of any sense of performance. Seen in context of realizing the insufficiency of self, this self-emptying restricts one’s attention to exterior forms and thus underscores interior motivations. 

Theresa continues to define proper prayer: “Apart from the fact that by prayer you will be helping greatly, you need not be desiring to benefit the whole world but must concentrate on those who are in your company, and thus your deed will be greater since you are more obliged toward them” (156). One observes Theresa setting limits to the habit of prayer, this time restricting one’s attention to the effective nature of the prayer, or any delusions of grandeur that might arise as one grows in their habit. In so doing, one is again forced away from outward rubrics of growth so as to focus on the interiority of the one praying. She continues: “Do you think such deep humility, your mortification, service of all and great charity toward them, and love of the Lord is of little benefit? This fire of love in you enkindles their souls, and with every other virtue you will be always awakening them. Such service will not be small but very great and very pleasing to the Lord” (156). Through the mortification of the desires for enjoyment, innovation, and effectiveness, one finally arrives at the place where prayer can begin because the soul is then motivated not extrinsically but by a growth of charity, love that serves. 

One observes as well that through mortification one arrives at service to the Lord for His own sake, which mirrors Theresa’s initial counsel to realize the sufficiency of God and the insufficiency of the self. She then concludes: “In sum, my Sisters, what I conclude with is that we shouldn’t build castles in the air. The Lord doesn’t look so much at the greatness of our works as at the love with which they are done...let us offer the Lord interiorly and exteriorly the sacrifice we can” (157). In privileging the interior life, Theresa orders notions of habit and form so that they are seen to proceed from a motive of love. To build a “castle in the air,” then, is understood in context to mean one that lacks the substance and grounding of charity and mortification, the only reliable rubrics for assessing spiritual progress. Instead, one is left to ponder the castle that ought to be built, which seems--again in context, to be the practice of self-emptying through a vigilant habit of prayer that gives way to humility and service. Per the title of the work, this would be to form one’s “interior castle.”