What exactly is praise? What does good praise look like? Is there such a thing as bad praise? Can we praise wrong? We might find some clarity by listening to Teresa of Avila, a 16th century nun and mystic. She wanted to help people deepen their spiritual lives, to journey as “servants of love.” She compares our spiritual life to a garden. It starts out full of weeds with difficult soil. It is Jesus who pulls the weeds and who plants the good seed. Our task is to cultivate the garden so that the good seed sprouts and grows.1
Teresa focuses on the task of watering the garden. I know all you gardeners are familiar with how vital, how time consuming, and how complicated that can get. Teresa says that there are four different ways to water the garden and she compares these to four degrees of prayer. Even though she was talking about prayer, it can apply it to praise, too.
First, you can draw water from a well. It takes a lot of work travelling, getting water from deep down, raising it up, carrying it to the garden, and repeating the process (especially when the well runs dry). Teresa says this is like all the work it takes to find the words to pray and praise when your mind is filled with distractions, either of what’s happening around you or of thoughts of your past. Your focus shifts so often that it can even be painful. When we keep praying, when we keep praising even though it’s hard, God supports us in every step we take.
In the second degree of prayer and praise, you use a water wheel and aqueducts. This requires the gardener to turn a crank to get the water going, but it doesn’t require constant work. You end up with more water for less effort. Teresa calls this “the prayer of quiet.” Now we find joy simply in the calm and solitude in God’s presence. Rather than pouring out words, we aren’t preoccupied with saying “yes” and “no” to different thoughts. We simply say “yes” to God in silence. We may even long for God to prune away flowers so better ones can blossom.
In the third degree of prayer and praise, you find water in a nearby stream. Here, with irrigation, still less work is required to water the garden. Teresa calls this prayer “a sleep of the faculties.” Your intellect, your will, your memory – it’s not that they stop working or stop existing. They just stand in awe of God. Things of this world that once seemed tempting pale in comparison with this praise, this closeness, this communion. It’s not about speaking or being silent. Teresa describes this time as “glorious foolishness, a heavenly madness where the true wisdom is learned.” This praise is as giddy in God’s love as a giggling schoolgirl. She says you, “utter many words here in praise of God without thinking them up.” You want to praise so much that your voice longs to join others. Joy resounds in works of service. It’s a “union of the whole soul with God” that lets your sense of reason, your will, your self engage some of what’s happening so you can rejoice in what God is doing.
In the fourth degree, the garden is watered by rain. Each of the other kinds of prayer involved some work on our part, but this one doesn’t. The much-needed water comes as an outpouring of God’s grace. Teresa reminds us that our souls are citizens of heaven – that we are forever sojourning on earth. Our souls feel a pain, a homesickness of longing to be in heaven. In this fourth degree, the homesickness is gone. The senses are completely overcome by the moment. It’s a communion with God’s glory – feeling as one with God. This is joy beyond understanding, beyond words. Teresa doesn’t even pretend to understand what kind of prayer brings us to this holy place. But she is confident that, “this heavenly water, this magnificent favor from the Lord, always leaves great fruits in the soul.”2
[i] https://archive.org/stream/SantaTeresaDeAvilaWorksComplete/SaintTeresaOfAvilaCollectedWorksComplete_djvu.txt
[ii] https://archive.org/stream/SantaTeresaDeAvilaWorksComplete/SaintTeresaOfAvilaCollectedWorksComplete_djvu.txt