THREE IMAGES OF THE SPIRITUAL LIFE
The desert of Elijah
The dark night of Saint John of the Cross
The mountain of God
The desert of Elijah
Mortally
afraid, Elijah flees a day’s journey into the desert until, overwhelmed by
exhaustion, he lays himself down beneath a broom tree, praying, “This is
enough, O Lord! Take my life, for I am no better than my fathers.” Roused by an
angel from sleep, he is refreshed by a hearth cake and a jug of water.
Descending into sleep a second time, he is awakened by the angel, who exclaims,
“Get up and eat, else the journey will be too long for you!” Afterwards, so
fortified is he that at once he walks forty days and forty nights to Mount
Horeb. (1 Kings 19:1-8)
In
this image of the desert the traveller is preoccupied not with their progress
upward or inward but with advancing in love toward their destination, often in
darkness and struggle, but also as God wills resting in oases of light and
peace.
The
image offers the advantage that it is a spur to prayer and ascetical practice
yet at the same time a check upon self-conscious introspection or prideful
dwelling upon “spiritual progress.”
The
image of a journey across a flat desert combines the images of the dark night
of the soul of Saint John of the Cross and the desert oasis of Saint Bruno the
Carthusian.
The
dark night of the soul is a desert because it is a period of purification of the
senses and the spirit—painful, mysterious, yet despite it all, ardent. Saint
John of the Cross says it cannot be adequately described:
“So numerous
and burdensome are the pains of this night, and so many are the scriptural
passages we could cite that we would have neither the time nor the energy to
put it all in writing; and, doubtless, all that we can possibly say would fall
short of expressing what this night really is.” [Saint John of the Cross, “The Dark Night of the Soul,” II, 7, op. cit., p. 406]
Saint
John compares it to a “dark dungeon” where a prisoner, “bound hands and feet,”
is “able neither to move nor see nor feel any favor from heaven or earth.” The
soul in this condition is “humbled, softened, and purified, until it becomes so
delicate, simple, and refined that it can be one with the Spirit of God,
according to the degree of union of love that God, in his mercy, desires to
grant.” [Ibid., pp. 407-408]
Souls
who endure this suffering “know that they love God and that they would give a
thousand lives for him (they would indeed, for souls undergoing these trials
love God very earnestly)” yet “they find no relief. This knowledge instead
causes them deeper affliction.” [Ibid., p. 409]
In
contrast, the desert oasis is the foretaste of the fruits of Paradise, the
vision of God in purity of heart that for reasons entirely hidden to the soul
and out of sheer gratuitousness God wishes to bestow upon the soul.
Saint
Bruno’s letter to his friend, Raoul, offers us glimpses of this rarefied
spiritual attainment. He writes, “In any case only those who have experienced
them can know the benefits and divine exultation that the solitude and silence
of the desert hold in store for those who love it.” They “enter into
themselves,” “rest in quiet activity,” “eat the fruits of Paradise with joy,”
even “see God himself.” [Saint Bruno the Carthusian, Letter to Raoul, Dean of the Cathedral Chapter at
Rheims, 7, retrieved on April 2, 2017 from http://www.chartreux.org/en/texts/bruno-raoul-le-verd.php]
Of
this divine exultation, Saint John speaks as well.
“There are
intervals in which, through God’s dispensation…the soul, like one who has been
unshackled and released from a dungeon and who can enjoy the benefit of
spaciousness and freedom, experiences great sweetness of peace and loving friendship
with God in a ready abundance of spiritual communication.” [Saint John of the Cross, op. cit., p. 408]
“Symbols
of the Spiritual Journey”:
The dark night of Saint John of the Cross
Saint John
of the Cross’ “dark night” has been popularly misunderstood as a state of psychological
depression or the convergence in a person’s life of especially difficult and
trying events.
We will
examine Saint John’s own words to clarify and explain in what the “dark night”
essentially consists.
“We may
say that there are three reasons for which this journey made by the soul to
union with God is called night. The first has to do with the point from which
the soul goes forth, for it has gradually to deprive itself of desire for all
the worldly things which it possessed, by denying them to itself; the which
denial and deprivation are, as it were, night to all the senses of man. The
second reason has to do with the mean, or the road along which the soul must
travel to this union—that is, faith, which is likewise as dark as night to the
understanding. The third has to do with the point to which it travels—namely,
God, Who, equally, is dark night to the soul in this life. These three nights must
pass through the soul—or, rather, the soul must pass through them—in order that
it may come to Divine union with God.”
—Saint
John of the Cross, “The Dark Night,” Ascent
of Mount Carmel, Chapter 2
The “dark
night” is a period of sensual and spiritual purgation, the latter subsuming the
former.
The soul
that enters the “dark night” seeks union with God and undertakes the
mortification of the senses and of the spirit—the spiritual faculties of the
intellect and will—for this purpose, mortification which is not only active but
also passive.
Saint John
expounds the first two stanzas of his mystical masterpiece, “The Dark Night,” to
explain this point.
“One dark
night, fired with love’s urgent longings—ah, the sheer grace! —I went out
unseen, my house being now all stilled.
“In
darkness, and secure, by the secret ladder, disguised—ah, the sheer grace!—in
darkness and concealment, my house being now all stilled.”
—Saint
John of the Cross, “Stanzas of the Soul,” The
Dark Night of the Soul, Prologue
“In this first stanza, the soul speaks of the
way it followed in its departure from love of both self and all things. Through
a method of true mortification, it died to all these things and to itself. It
did this so as to reach the sweet and delightful life of love with God. And it
declares that this departure was a dark night. As we will explain later, this
dark night signifies here purgative contemplation, which passively causes in
the soul this negation of self and of all things.”
—Saint
John of the Cross, “Explanation of the Stanzas,” The Dark Night of the Soul, Book I
The “dark
night,” consists, therefore, in the first place, in habitual sensual and
spiritual abnegation.
Saint John
gives a second reason why this passage in the spiritual life is a “dark night.”
God is darkness to the soul and indeed will always be so while the soul animates
the mortal body, because God, being pure spirit, cannot be apprehended by the corporeal
sense of sight.
True, the
soul in beatitude—in heaven—apprehends or “sees” God not in darkness but in
light, according to the capacity of the soul, but we are assured that in this
mortal life the soul always experiences God as darkness, in varying degrees.
Scripture
testifies that God is light, yes, but also affirms that God is darkness.
“He made
darkness his cloak around him.” (Psalm 18:12)
“Darkness
is not dark for you, and night shines as the day. Darkness and light are but
one.” (Psalm 113:12)
“Solomon
said, ‘The Lord intends to dwell in the dark cloud.’” (1 Kings 8:12)
A third
reason why Saint John describes this stage of the spiritual journey as a “dark
night” is because the pilgrim soul advancing towards union with God travels in
the darkness of faith.
...[Saint John] writes:
“The soul,
if it desires to pay close attention, will clearly recognize how on this road
it suffers many ups and downs, and how immediately after prosperity some
tempest and trial follows, so much so that seemingly the calm was given to
forewarn and strengthen it against further penury. It sees, too, how abundance
and tranquility succeed misery and torment, and in such a way that it thinks it
was made to fast before celebrating that feast. This is the ordinary procedure
in the state of contemplation until one arrives at the quiet state: the soul
never remains in one state, but everything is ascent and descent.” [boldface mine]
—Saint John of the Cross, “How this
Secret Wisdom Is Also a Ladder,” The Dark
Night of the Soul, Book II, Chapter 18, 3
“Three
Metaphors for Prayer”:
The mountain of God
Who shall climb the
mountain of the Lord?
Who shall stand in his holy
place?
The man with clean hands
and pure heart,
who desires not worthless
things,
who has not sworn so as to
deceive his neighbor.
He shall receive blessings
from the Lord
and reward from the God who
saves him.
Such are the men who seek
him,
seek the face of the God of
Jacob.—Psalm 24:3-5
Who will climb the mountain
of God? Psalm 24 answers this question.
First point: “The man with
clean hands”
All have sinned and are
deprived of the glory of God.—Romans 3:23
If we say, “We are without
sin,” we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.—1 John 1:8
And yet:
If we acknowledge our sins,
he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from every
wrongdoing.—1 John 1:9
For if the blood of goats
and bulls and the sprinkling of a heifer’s ashes can sanctify those who are
defiled so that their flesh is cleansed, how much more will the blood of
Christ, who through the eternal spirit offered himself unblemished to God,
cleanse our consciences from dead works to worship the living God.—Hebrews
9:13-14
Notably, Jesus says:
“You are already clean
because of the word I have spoken to you.”—John 15:3
Second point: “and pure
heart, who desires not worthless things”
In Commentary on the Word
of Life (November 1999), Chiara Lubich says:
Blessed are the pure in
heart, for they shall see God. (Mt. 5:8)
…First of all, Jesus points
out the very best way to be purified: “You have already been cleansed by the
word that I have spoken to you.” (Jn 15:3) His Word, more than the practice of
religious rites, is what purifies our inner self. The Word of Jesus is not like
human words. Christ is present in his Word, as he is present, in a different
way, in the Eucharist. Through his Word Christ enters within us and, provided
we allow him to act, he makes us free from sin and therefore pure in heart.
Thus purity is the fruit of
living the Word, of living all the Words of Jesus which free us from our
so-called attachments, which we inevitably fall into if our hearts are not in
God and in his teachings. These can be attachments to things, to people and to
ourselves. But if our heart is focused on God alone, all the rest falls away.
To achieve this, it can be
useful to repeat throughout the day to Jesus, to God, the invocation of the
psalm that says: “You, Lord, are my only good!” (see Ps. 16:2) Let’s try to say
it often, especially when various attachments seek to pull our heart towards
those images, feelings and passions that can blur our vision of what is good
and take away our freedom.
…Living the Word makes us
free and pure because the Word is love. It is love, with its divine fire, that
purifies our intentions and the whole of our inner self, because our ‘heart,’
according to the Bible, is the deepest seat of our intelligence and our will.
But there is a type of love
that Jesus commands us to practise and that enables us to live this beatitude.
It is mutual love, being ready to give our life for others, following the
example of Jesus. This love creates a current, an exchange, an atmosphere
characterised above all by transparency and purity, because of the presence of
God who alone can create a pure heart in us (see Ps. 50:12). It is by living
mutual love that the Word acts with its purifying and sanctifying effects.
As isolated individuals we
are incapable of resisting the world’s temptations for long, but in mutual love
there is a healthy environment that can protect purity and all other aspects of
a true Christian life.
Blessed are the pure in
heart,
for they shall see God.
So, then, the fruit of this
constantly re-acquired purity is that we can ‘see’ God, which means we can
understand his work in our lives and in history, hear his voice in our hearts,
and recognise him where he is: in the poor, in the Eucharist, in his Word, in
our communion with others, in the Church.
It is a foretaste of the
presence of God which already begins in this life, as we ‘walk by faith, not by
sight’ (2 Cor. 5:7), until the time when, ‘we will see face to face’ (1 Cor.
13:12) forever.
—Chiara Lubich, “Blessed
are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” Centro Chiara Lubich, October
25, 1999
Chiara Lubich expounds the
following points about developing purity of heart:
- Hear and do the Word
- Receive the Word in the
Eucharist
- Rectitude of intention
- Practice of mutual love
Third Point: “who has not
sworn so as to deceive his neighbor”
“Again you have heard that
it was said to your ancestors, ‘Do not take a false oath, but make good to the
Lord all that you vow.’ But I say to you, do not swear at all; not by heaven,
for it is God’s throne; nor by the earth, for it is his footstool; nor by Jerusalem,
for it is the city of the great King. Do not swear by your head, for you cannot
make a single hair white or black. Let your ‘Yes’ mean ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No’
mean ‘No.’ Anything more is from the evil one.”—Matthew 5:33-37
The man who confesses his
sins, seeks God as his only good, and speaks the truth without the pretense of
professing oaths, will climb the mountain of the Lord.
“The
Mountain of God”:
Photo courtesy of Guilhem Vellut
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https://www.flickr.com/photos/o_0/50145137593
Gonzalinho
DESERT SPIRITUALITY
ReplyDeletePerseverance in prayer and works of virtue despite prolonged aridity is a very characteristic feature of desert spirituality. The monk enters this desert and is thereby purified of their faults and proven in love. The monk loves the desert because it is there that he or she finds God.
Gonzalinho
[Abba Poemen] said concerning Abba Pior that every day he made a new beginning.
ReplyDelete—The Sayings of the Desert Fathers, transl. with a foreword by Benedicta Ward, SLG, preface by Metropolitan Anthony (Kalamazoo, Michigan: Cistercian Publications, 1984), page 179
Gonzalinho
“We do not want to be beginners. But let us be convinced of the fact that we will never be anything else except beginners, all our life!”—Thomas Merton, Contemplative Prayer (1969)
ReplyDeleteThe book was published posthumously.
Gonzalinho