Father Alfonso Gálvez has written about prayer, beautifully and extensively, both directly and indirectly, many times in his books and editorials. In The Mystery of Prayer, he tries to give the reader a small glimpse of the depth and reality of mystical or contemplative prayer.

Father Gálvez states at the beginning that it is simply not possible to learn how to practice contemplative prayer: neither in three days nor in a thousand years, not even if one could live one hundred thousand lives. Contemplative prayer is something essentially supernatural and a free gift from God, which He grants to whom He wills and when He wills; thus, no one can earn it, as it belongs to such a high level that man's natural powers cannot reach it.

The author stands alongside the two great Spanish mystics and Doctors of the Church, Saint Teresa of Jesus and Saint John of the Cross. The three of them share more than just their homeland. Each offers readers invaluable insight on the subject of prayer. However, both Mystical Doctors present a method that the Father observes has some dark or seemingly austere points in their spirituality: Saint Teresa speaks of a more passive method of contemplation, in which a gentle rain of grace can be received by the soul effortlessly. Saint John emphasizes in his teaching that the soul must strip itself of absolutely everything: to embrace Nothingness—the Night of the senses and the spirit.

Father's love for these two remarkable saints and Doctors of the Church is evident and tender. He has studied their lives and reflected on their teachings for many years. However, at a certain point, Father diverges from their methods when he brings to the forefront his own doctrine of spirituality, highlighting a beautiful reality seemingly overlooked in its fullness and simplicity by both mystics, which strives to bridge the gap between the Creator and His creature: precisely, the human nature of Jesus Christ. It is through His humanity that Christ connects with us and loves each one of us; it is through His humanity that we can return that love, in a human way, now elevated by grace.

This elevation of the human person through grace, a grace purchased through the sufferings of Christ, along with His acceptance of human nature, allows man to share, on an equal level, a relationship of love with God: a divine-human love relationship. Simply because He wanted to be one of us, as Father says, He desired to feel our suffering in His flesh, which is nothing but the result of a love so great that He cannot bear to see us suffer without making our suffering His own. This means that He wanted to suffer not only for us but also with us. And there lies the crux of the matter: Contemplative prayer is nothing other than love.

Father speaks of this love, of this divine-human relationship of love, in concrete and very real terms. Although poetry, metaphors, and images come into play—because words do not always suffice—the love relationship between Jesus Christ and the soul is a very real encounter. In the nature of love, it is the sharing of a life; in the life and death of a Christian, it equates to the life and death of Jesus Christ, with all the value that entails.

Father emphasizes the absolute need for reciprocity and mutuality in love: the entire exposition of the divine-human love relationship revolves around these concepts. The exchange of gifts between lovers consists of this: that each gives the other everything they have, even their own life. And in that life, there is a direct relationship between suffering and joy: whether the soul comes into the presence of the Lord in the fervent joy of love’s intimacy or is called to share with Him the hardships of His cross, there is no doubt that, in either case, it is for the soul a time of Perfect Joy.

Throughout the work, Father refers to the tenderness of love so beautifully portrayed in the Song of Songs of the Old Testament, which serves as the foundation of Father’s thought. That exchange of love, the giving and receiving, the reciprocity that is the basis of any human love relationship: This is why we take as a starting point the behavior in a purely human love relationship, as does the Song of Songs. In this way, it is possible to describe the divine-human relationship in expressive and intelligible terms, similar to those used to describe how purely human love operates: the mutual pursuit of the Bridegroom and the Bride, the jousts and tournaments in their love relationship; tender and affectionate terms in their mutual affinity; their reciprocal yearning because of their absences; their waiting for each other...

When words in their usual sense fail to express his level of thought, Father does what he often does: he turns to poetry; he sings. Most of the poems contained in this work are original compositions by Father himself. He explains: I am convinced that [his poems] bring to this work a relative sense of beauty and an atmosphere of joy and light, which, after all, are so necessary in a world that seems to have chosen ugliness and darkness. Moreover, it is necessary to introduce poetry into treatises on prayer... And the beauty, lightness, and joy they bring not only balance the subject matter, but they also produce the joy that comes from a pure and childlike heart. Father turns prayer into a song of love.

Just as Father firmly asserts that no one can do justice to an exposition on prayer (and consequently love) by using words, it is equally true that no one can do justice to a commentary on his book. He explains his reason for writing it, and his explanation reflects the lofty sentiments that the reader has somehow sensed for himself throughout the reading:

...because at least for me, writing it allowed me to give way to dreams and longings about what is said within it. Alongside the desire that something, even just a little of what the work might contain of beauty, would one day become a reality in my soul. For the rest, despite so many vicissitudes and so many ups and downs, my soul has always been filled with yearnings and dreams of God. Longings and desires dreamed of for so long, not always accompanied by sufficient effort and, as expected, never fully achieved. But if the just live by faith, as Saint Paul affirmed, it is also true that they are sustained by hope. Hope itself is enough to provide a foretaste of Perfect Joy and to keep the flame burning in our hearts that someday, perhaps at the most unexpected moment, Perfect Love will knock at our door.