MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE AND SIMPLICITY OF FAITH

V/​ I will turn to you O God, 

R/​ to God who gives joy to my youth

V/​ Give me the Wisdom that sits by your throne; 

R/ that I may be counted among your children

Lord, in your all-providential plan, you have led me to this moment to rediscover me in your Word and Wisdom. Aid me to make this time of meditation and prayer enriching, transforming, and liberating for my well-being and others. Amen!

MYSTICAL EXPERIENCE AND SIMPLICITY OF FAITH

By Shawn T. Ellison

Solemnity of St Teresa of Ávila

Romans 8:22-27; Psalm 84(83):2-10; Romans 8:14-17, 26-27; John 15:1-8

15th October 2025

Today, the Church celebrates the feast of St. Teresa of Ávila — reformer, mystic, and Doctor of the Church. Her writings continue to guide the faithful into the depths of prayer, reminding us that true progress lies not in experiences but in intimacy with Christ. St. Teresa of Ávila identifies a perennial problem in the Christian contemplative life — one that still troubles prayerful souls today. She points to the subtle danger of spiritual absorptive states: the unwitting tendency to become attached to “spiritual delights” or exalted states of being. Spiritual delights are mystical intensifications of God’s presence. At times, they overflow into the senses and the inner faculties of memory, intellect, and will. Teresa warns that this state of absorption — which can appear in different degrees — is “extremely dangerous at least for the brain and the head” (p. 289). In such moments, the contemplative enters a blissful, self-satisfying state that weakens the mind’s freedom to reflect on the central mysteries of faith.

            Teresa gradually realised that mystical absorption — and the pursuit of it — led her away from reflecting on the Sacred Humanity of Christ. Spiritual delights are a gratuitous grace of the Holy Spirit, yet our drives for pleasure and gratification cling to them. Teresa even intuited that mystical states have a physical dimension, involving shifts in dopamine, serotonin, endorphins, and oxytocin. Thus, even divine gifts can become habit-forming in our fallen nature. For this reason, Teresa insists that the contemplative “strive to free themselves from this error and avoid such absorption with all their strength” (p. 289).

            Teresa’s warning about spiritual delights and absorptive states is profoundly relevant today. Since the 1960s, New Age spirituality, psychedelic experimentation, and eastern meditation practices have promoted altered states of consciousness as the standard of spiritual progress. Increasingly, spirituality itself is judged by the presence or absence of such experiences. The saint describes such souls as “birds flying about that do not know where to light” (p. 289). In their compulsive seeking, they are blind to the Rock on which to rest: “and that Rock was Christ” (1 Corinthians 10:4). Indeed, the revelation of Jesus Christ — the Word made flesh for our salvation — is infinitely greater than any mystical experience.

            The truth is that our human nature is overly zealous for mystical experiences — absorptions, raptures, visions, locutions, and the rest. Too often this zeal distracts from a living relationship with the Risen Jesus. The evil one tempts us to believe that such experiences can replace meditation on Christ’s humanity. We begin to equate absorption with progress. Teresa knew better. She reminds us that “Jesus is too good a companion for us to turn away from Him and His most Blessed Mother…” (p. 289).

            Therefore, we must place intimacy with Jesus above every mystical experience. The irony is that we may desire or even experience profound absorption, yet still, as Teresa observed, be “losing a lot of time and not making progress in virtue or improving in prayer” (p. 289). Authentic progress is measured by how steadfastly we gaze on Jesus and His holy face in love and obedience. Strikingly, the Seventh Dwelling Place — Teresa’s highest stage of prayer — is marked not by more extraordinary experiences, but fewer. Perhaps mystical experiences are given only to meet our human hunger for the extraordinary. Beyond them, the soul discovers something greater: the luminous simplicity of faith in the Risen Christ, which is in fact the highest mystical experience.

            On this feast of St. Teresa of Ávila, may we receive her timeless wisdom with renewed courage — to set aside the restless search for spiritual experiences and to rest, with simplicity of faith, in Jesus Christ our true Rock and companion.