I can't remember exactly when I picked up a book by St. Teresa of Avila, but I was too young in faith to understand it. It was The Interior Castle, and I definitely thought she was nuts. The spiritual life goes forward, and then things become clearer. I had another book by a British nun named Ruth. I guess one feels more freedom to speak plainly in the same spiritual family. Sr. Ruth definitely didn't agree all the time with St. Teresa.
What follows is some speculation based in my reading and direct experience.
I think physical suffering is to separate the soul from the world. I use "the world" in the negative sense that St. John the Evangelist does when he refers to "the world, the flesh, and the devil." That is, everything opposed to God. Everything in normal human experience teaches us that pain is bad. It's in fact a really good indicator that something is wrong. Pain and problems unresolved lead to death. It's normal. We are destined to die, in merely human terms.
I don't think we can ignore suffering and pain. We can transcend them in Christ, but we cannot offer anything as prayer that we don't acknowledge. To me, that's a massive key. Merit comes through acceptance and patience, literally the willingness to suffer. Most of the Carmelites speak of two "dark nights." The first is of the senses, where God removes consolations from doing the good of the ordinary Christian life, and it's possible that the senses will also mislead. The Enemy loves this. But in this time, faith remains the light that illumines the Truth. Faith is a supernatural gift, and it must be, because the body and the mind on their own cannot help.
The second dark night is terrifying, because faith indeed may not be accessible. If a soul gets here, it means that charity--Divine Love--has grown so great that even if one cannot see with the eyes of faith, the soul loves. Faith and Hope will pass away, but Love won't, and can't. Faith and Hope are for this life, to transition from this life. Love is the substance of the life of the world to come. As it is written, "God is Love."
This is why St. Therese of Lisieux thought she was a blasphemer; she couldn't see by faith. But that's why she could say (paraphrase), "If You want me in Hell, I will go there." She was so surrendered to God and so trusting of Him that the lesser joys of Heaven meant nothing. St. Augustine taught that there is nothing wrong with doing good in order to receive a reward, and St. Thomas Aquinas agrees. At the point of being a great saint, though, they don't care.
Why does the Scripture go back to Christ and the Cross? Well, the Cross is supreme Love. And everything happens in and through Christ. I think we don't meditate on that small Scripture, "I am the Door" often enough. Or Christ as the Way. We cannot know the Father except through the Son. As John says, "He who has the Son has the Father also." But, "he who does not have the Son does not have the Father." What does that mean for the invincibly ignorant and adherents of other religions? I don't know; I'm not Pope Leo XIV. I do know that sharing Christ is much easier than we often think. And that the Spirit moves where He wills, and invisibly.
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