A Brief Bio
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| St. John of the Cross |
St. John of the Cross was born
at Fontiveros in Spain in 1542. He was invested in the Carmelite habit in 1563,
made his profession the year after, and was ordained a priest in 1567. In the
same year he met St. Teresa of Avila who convinced John, who by now was
thinking of leaving the Carmelites for the stricter Carthusians, to join her in
a reform of the Carmelite Order. The following year after he completed his
studies, he made the vows of the Reform and thus began the beginning of the
rest of his life – a life marked by trials.
At one time he was imprisoned in
a tiny cell in Toledo, by Carmelite friars who opposed the Reform. During his
imprisonment he was subjected to weekly lashings, with scraps of slated fish,
bread and water for rations. At times he was forced to eat like a dog on the
floor in front of the community of friars where he would be verbally humiliated
by the superiors under the pretext of disobedience, saying such things as:
“Here is one who sought to teach before he learnt”. After nine months he
managed to escape. According to tradition the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to
him in a vision on the Feast of the Assumption, telling him that his trials
would soon be over. A few days later she showed him a window by which he could
make his escape. During the night he unhinged his cell door (loosened by Mary)
and tying blankets together lowered himself outside the monastery window.
Exhausted and fragile he managed to scale the tall monastery wall –also with
the help of Mary it is said, where he took shelter in the nearby convent of the
Reform. It was during his time in prison that he composed a large part of his
most famous poem Spiritual Canticle,
along with several other shorter poems.
Towards the end of his life, on
the 1st of June 1591, despite being the co-founder of the Reform –
by now known as the Discalced, ‘Barefooted’ Carmelites – he was stripped of all
offices of authority at the communities Chapter. Within several weeks he fell
ill with a severe fever, and despite the urgings of his companions he insisted
to be transferred to the monastery at Ubeda; since the Prior of that monastery
loathed him, and John could not turn down a certain cross which he knew would
be his last. His final days in Ubeda, where he was confined to bed, were spent
in agony and abjection, with the Prior persecuting him right until the end when
at last the Prior begged St. John for forgiveness. Throughout his period of
sickness several women fought over the rights to wash his bloody clothes and
sheets, which they attest had no odor except that of the smell of roses. On
December 14, 1591 he died of erysipelas, an acute infection of the skin and
lymphatic system, at the age of 49.
He was canonised in 1726 and
was proclaimed a Doctor (Teacher) of the Universal Church in 1926; receiving
the title Doctor Mysticus ‘Mystic
Doctor’, because of his expertise in treating of the subject of Mystical
Theology. He is considered a master of Spanish literature, and was at once a
poet, philosopher, theologian and spiritual director – a task which he
continues to this day. His preeminent works include the Dark Night, often referred to as Dark Night of the Soul; Ascent
of Mount Carmel, and the Spiritual
Canticle.
What characterises St. John of
the Cross is his ardent desire for union with God in the simplicity and poverty
of a faith that seeks God for God’s Own sake. There is much we can learn from
this Doctor of the Church, yet we will focus on one central theme that runs
throughout the writings of this great Saint and forms a corner stone of his spirituality: loving God as opposed to loving
the gifts of God.
Loving
the Giver above the Gifts
In the spiritual life we can
often fall into the trap of loving the gifts of God more than we love God the
Giver. It is not possible to truly love God and
to be attached and ‘in love’ with the gifts that He gives; since “no man can
serve two masters” (Mt 6:24a). Thus at times we may become attached to
consolations in prayer such as tingly sensations, feel good emotions, insights
into mysteries of our faith, or even to comfortable and easy prayer sessions. The
sign that we are in love with such consolations more than we are in love with
God, is when we stop or slacken our prayers because we think we’re getting
nothing out of it. What we should really be doing is praying regardless of how
we feel, remaining indifferent to whether we feel warm and fuzzy or numb and
tired; whether we are experiencing a flood of spiritual insights or are plagued
by distractions and can’t concentrate; since prayer is about being with God and
letting God be with us. It is not about having our senses caressed and minds
pampered. As St. John of the Cross emphatically reiterates, prayer is about
union with God, and to bring about this union God knows what is best –
sometimes consolations, but sometimes dryness, tedium and seeming
fruitlessness; and the saint teaches us that these latter experiences are in
fact most profitable to our souls.
The
One out of the Ten
In the Gospels we read of the
account of ‘The Ten Lepers’. Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem when he meets ten
lepers along the way. Jesus says to them:
“Go and show
yourselves to the priests.” And as they went they were cleansed. Then one of
them, when he saw that he was healed, turned back, praising God with a loud
voice; and he fell on his face at Jesus' feet, giving him thanks… Then said
Jesus, “Were not ten cleansed? Where are the nine? Was no one found to return
and give praise to God except this foreigner?” And he said to him, “Rise and go
your way; your faith has made you well.” (Lk 17:14-19).
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| One Leper Returns |
In this situation we see that
out of the ten who received the gift of healing only one turned back to give thanks to God. Thus out of all the ten only one
loved the Giver more than the gift; and because of this gratitude the Lord –
who will never have Himself outdone in generosity – says to the man “your faith
has made you well”. Obviously he is not only speaking about physical healing,
since each of the ten received that. But Jesus is speaking about spiritual
healing – a gift He gave to this man alone. The gift was the ‘making well’ of
the relationship between God and himself; the gift of having given pleasure to
God; a gift only enjoyed by those who give simple and selfless thanksgiving.
The majority of Christians are
like the nine ungrateful lepers: happily receiving gifts from God, but forgetful
of giving thanks and perhaps even forgetful of the Giver Himself. Such gifts given
by God directly and indirectly – which we often take for granted – include
literally everything such as good
health, the opportunity to suffer; sunshine and rain; a financial blessing; a
good exam result, a family, friendships, creation, our own existence etc. In
regards to all such gifts we are called to be like that one grateful man, so
that in the midst of enjoying the gifts of God – we
turn back to God, facing away from the gifts received and attentive
only to the Giver.
Ironically
it is when we give thanks to God as the Giver, focusing on Him as opposed to
the gifts He gives, that God bestows more gifts on us, just as He did to that
one healed leper. However the greatest of the gifts that God gives us we can focus on, and this Gift is at once the most sublime and the most allusive: it is the giving of God’s Self in the Person of Jesus, and His drawing us into a deeper union with
Him. This is especially the case in the Sacraments, and particularly so in the Eucharist. Yet herein we are addressing those gifts which are other than God.
Spiritual
Gluttony: Using God
Another error we might fall
into is becoming spiritual gluttons who seek after ‘new spiritual experiences’
or spiritual novelties for their own sake or for our own sake. This might
manifest by seeking after powerful worship music; wanting to have a vision of
God, Mary or some saint or angel; wanting a more entertaining church service; attending
spiritual conferences for the sake of ‘the next hit’; by seeking to tangibly
feel God, as if the purpose of prayer is to emotionally experience God; or by
seeking fancier and more polished liturgies – all under the pretext of “what
can I get out of this?” There is nothing inherently wrong with these things, nor with experiencing God. But there
is something wrong when we seek to tangibly
experience God as opposed to simply
seeking God for His Own sake – indifferent to whether ‘we feel Him’ or ‘think
we are encountering him’. We must be confident in faith that He is always in
our midst, with the sole aim of giving Him glory no matter how we feel and no
matter what temptations of doubt may assail our minds.
A suitable analogy for
spiritual gluttony would be to imagine a husband who loves the sexual
experiences he has with his wife more than he loves his wife herself. In this
instance the husband would be guilty of lust, since his wife has become an
object for his own greedy pleasure. He has objectified her and has valued the
gift of her body more than his wife as the unique woman that she is. There is
nothing wrong with the sexual act in the bond of wedlock, in fact it is a gift
given by God to be enjoyed in the bonds of wedlock, within the realm of the
moral law. However there is something wrong when this gift of sexuality is
esteemed more than relationship and personhood. It’s just as if we were to give
a gift to someone only to have them run away with the gift in delight, without
the slightest recognition and gratitude for who we are and for our bestowing
the gift. This leads to one of the worst feelings of all: being used.
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| Medieval Choir |
Sadly we often use God. Thus whilst worship music,
charismatic praise, a sacred music choir, and fancy liturgies are good in and
of themselves, since they are among the gifts that God has bestowed on us; it
is a great imperfection to seek these things as ends in themselves. These
things, like all the gifts God gives us, are supposed to be springboards from
which we can praise God, and tools with which we can glorify him. Yet often we
turn these things into idols, as though these things were God! Underlying this
subtle spiritual idolatry is gluttony for spiritual experience. So that worship
music becomes more about feeling an encounter
with God instead of giving praise to God. Charismatic praise becomes more
about feeling swept up in the Spirit, or receiving a word instead of glorifying
God – since being swept up in the Spirit and receiving ‘a word’ should be left
to God to happen if it happens. A sacred music choir becomes more about appeasing one’s musical sensibilities as
opposed to being a tool for elevating people’s minds to God. And fancy liturgy
becomes more about the smells, bells and
whistles and ticking the checklist of
liturgical norms as opposed to giving thanks to the Father with the Sacred
Eucharistic Heart of Jesus. Not that the smells, bells and whistles, and
meeting liturgical norms is a bad thing, for these are good in themselves; but
rather that they are means to the end of praising God; they are not ends in
themselves. When we turn such gifts as worship music, charismatic praise, a
sacred music choir and fancy liturgies into idols by making them ends in
themselves or into means to meet our own sensual appetites and ideas of ‘what
ought to be done’, we are using God out
of self-love, instead of using these
‘things’ to love Him.
Signs
of an Imperfect and False Devotion
A sign that we are more in
love with the gifts of God than God the giver, is if our devotion wanes when
the tangible gifts of God are partly or wholly withdrawn. If our devotion is
lessened in such circumstances than our devotion is imperfect, by which it
means it is at least partly false. If our devotion at Mass is at least somewhat
dependent upon how good the homily was, then our devotion is somewhat false.* If
our devotion in prayer is at least somewhat dependent upon feeling emotionally
pleasant, then our devotion is somewhat false. If our devotion in prayer is at
least somewhat dependent upon how easy or how difficult things are going in our
life, then our devotion is somewhat false.
Yet often God will use these
things, such as homilies, feelings, and easiness or difficulties in our life to
rekindle our hearts with a flame of devotion – imperfect yes, but it’s a start,
and God has to start from somewhere. Thus perhaps we might have given up on
prayer for a while, or have fallen short of what God is calling us to do; but
then all of a sudden some cross comes along in our life and we’re back on our
knees crying out to God with fervour. God even works through sin, so that at
one instance we think we’re the bees
knees and the cats pajamas, when
all of a sudden we fall flat on our faces in sin and are exceedingly humbled,
and we return to God repentant and with greater fervour than before – aware
that whilst we might be the bee, He’s our knees; and whilst we might be the
cat, He’s our pajamas.
In
What a True and Perfect Devotion Consists
In contrast a true and perfect
devotion, is a devotion that is constant and unwavering no matter what is
happening in our immediate environment and in our lives. Keeping in mind that
devotion is a free choice to desire God and a commitment to love God, it is not
about feeling like one loves God –
since feelings are deceptive and love is not a feeling but an act of the will.
Thus we can practice true devotion to God even in the midst of emotional and
physical suffering. By such true devotion we follow God and chase after union
with Him no matter what gifts we feel God is or isn’t giving us. In fact
according to John of the Cross’ schema, (for those in the state of grace) the
times we feel that God has withdrawn his gifts from us are in fact the times in
which God is bountifully lavishing us with gifts. Whilst those gifts that we
can sense are less valuable and beneficial to our soul than the gifts which are
purely spiritual – which we are not even or hardly aware of.
By true devotion we don’t care
how good or bad the priest’s homily was at Mass; we may still prefer a good
homily, but we’re not worried about it, we’re just attentive to what matters –
loving God and preparing ourselves for Holy Communion. By true devotion we see
God’s Will in whatever emotional state we find ourselves in during prayer –
whether it’s an “I can’t wait to pray” emotional state, or an “O no, it’s
prayer time” state, or a “Let’s get out of here” state; and whatever the state
we claim God’s Divine Strength as our own and soldier on in prayer, even if
it’s just being present to God. By
true devotion we will be inspired to pray all of the time, always and
everywhere, for everything and everybody; and as much as we can –out loud,
mentally, silently and with a loving intention whilst engaged in our duties. By
a true devotion our devotion will not depend on how easy or how difficult life
is going, but both easiness and difficulties will be seen as opportunities to
praise, love and thank God.
The Tangible
Outer Husk and the Spiritual Inner Nectar
St. John of the Cross explains
in what this true devotion consists. He writes:
True devotion
must issue from the heart, and consists in the truth and substances alone of
what is represented by spiritual things; all the rest is affection and
attachment proceeding from imperfection; and in order that one may pass to any
kind of perfection it is necessary for such desires to be killed.
In other words, what he is
saying is that true devotion is an outpouring of love from the heart, and
consists in a pure faith which is not dependent upon the outward and exterior
forms of God’s gifts. The outward, visible and tangible aspect of God’s gifts, including
the tangible aspect of experiencing God, is in fact “the outer husk” of God’s
gifts, whilst the actual valuable and important aspect of God’s gifts is the
inner fruit that is neither felt by the senses nor fully comprehended by the
intellect.
This principle applies to all of God’s gifts both spiritual and material. Since
even the gift of physical food, although its material ‘husk’ is essential to
the sustaining of physical life, its most important aspect is the communicated goodness
of God who provides for His creatures – hence we pray grace before meals to recognise
this fact. As the Catechism states: “there is scarcely any proper use of
material things which cannot be thus directed toward the sanctification of men
and the praise of God.” (CCC 1670). Most importantly however this principle applies
to the life of prayer; so that anything that we tangibly experience in prayer
we must not become attached to, keeping in mind that such sensual things are
but the superficial husks of God’s gifts compared to the hidden spiritual
nectar of Gods very Self being infused into our souls – either with or without
the accompaniment of such tangible husks.
The Importance
of a Pure Faith
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| St. John's Diagram of the Ascent of Mt. Carmel |
A persistent theme in the
writings of John of the Cross is the notion of a pure faith which is necessary for
a true and perfect devotion. With faith being “the assurance of things hoped
for, [and] the conviction of things not seen” (Heb 11:1). Such a faith is
necessary to hold fast to the Giver who gives Himself to us in, with and
through His gifts. Neither visions, sermons, apparitions, music, locutions,
tingly sensations, nor one’s own concepts and understandings of God and the
mysteries of our faith, are pathways that lead to union with God. “Faith… alone”
he says, “is the proximate and proportionate means whereby the soul is united
with God.”
What he means by this is that faith is the pathway that leads to union with
God, since Jesus is the Way, and we walk in Him by faith.
Everything else (yet visions
and locutions should never be sought after) can serve as sign posts along the pathway
of faith, encouraging us to walk on in faith. Yet if we’re not careful, we can
turn these sign posts into butterflies that we chase and which lead us off the
path of faith in God – which is a
path where things are neither seen nor felt, and onto the path of faith in things seen, felt and fully understood.
When we build our supposed faith and love of God upon the sand of a faith and
love for tangible things, we are setting ourselves up for disaster. Since if a
storm of some descript comes and invalidates or takes away the tangible things
we have built our faith upon we will lose our faith in God. This has happened
to many people. For although miracles, apparitions, and spiritual leaders can
be good things, they are not God – and may prove quite the contrary. Thus
our devotion should not be dependent upon these uncertain things. But instead our devotion should depend
upon God and the Revelation of Christ as proclaimed by the Church. Using
such things as private revelations, such as miracles and apparitions, to depend more on God and to penetrate deeper into Public Revelation. If we do all of this then our faith and love – our devotion,
will be true and perfect.
The
Darkness of Faith: The Safe, Sure and Secure Way
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| Drawing of the Crucifixion by John of the Cross |
This is what John of the Cross
means when he refers to the darkness and night of faith in God (here understood
in a general sense) being the safe, sure and secure way that leads to union
with God in the spiritual life. Since the soul who walks in a pure faith leans
only on God and seeks only God, without being encumbered by sensible
experiences or the lack thereof. Indeed how foolish it is to desire to see God
in a vision, instead of desiring God Himself who need not be seen. It would be
like someone who was engaged, and who desperately wanted to get married; and so
they ask to be plugged into the matrix so that they could have an imaginary wife
now, when they’re already engaged and just need to wait a few months until they’re
married!
Similarly, our days on earth
are days we must live in faith, which is to live in Mary beneath the shadow of the Cross. To live in pure faith we must never desire to literally and tangibly see or feel God in this life –
we must be content to believe in that intimacy which is invisible and imperceptible.
An eternal intimacy which need not wait until our death, but which we can enjoy
now through faith by which we allow to take place within us the romance between each Person of the Trinity. When we get to heaven, then we will have all of eternity to
behold Him face to face without any veils between us, and it is right and just to long for this glorious day. But for now “we look not
to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things
that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2
Cor 4:18).
Being
Content with the ‘Empty Tomb’ of Faith
We’re not called to be like
Thomas who sought out a tangible experience of God in the flesh of Jesus; nor
to be like the other Apostles who didn’t believe the women’s account of the
resurrection until they had tangibly experienced Jesus for themselves. But
we’re called to be like the Apostle John who did not seek to tangibly
experience Jesus, but who sought Jesus for His Own sake. Thus upon seeing the empty tomb John believed, and it was enough for him to know that Jesus was
alive and still with him (Jn 20:8). Similarly we must be content with the
‘empty tomb’, which is a symbol of pure faith. We must be satisfied with seeing
nothing, of feeling nothing, of hearing no mighty voice from above, nor of smelling
any scent of roses. Like John the Beloved we must be content with the ‘empty
tomb’ of faith, and believe wholeheartedly that God is with us, in us, and
calling us to draw ever nearer to Him.
A Pure
Faith: The Way to Love the Giver above the Gifts
This is the example that
another John gives us, St. John of the Cross. We don’t need to tangibly experience
God in order to experience God, we just need to believe. Nor should we chase
after experiences of God, since we already possess God in our souls and need
only swim deeper into Him – hence our motto should be: “The Lord is my shepherd
there is nothing I shall want” (Ps 23:1). This is the same as saying: “The Lord
is my God, and I need nothing else. I do not need visions, warm fuzzies, or
grand insights, I only need God.” If God bestows such gifts on us, so be it and we shouldn't fear them, but we must never place our faith and love in these things as though they were
God, we must continue along the bright and certain path of faith for the love
of God. A way which only seems dark and obscure to our finite minds.
We do not want to be those of
whom the Lord says: “Have you based your belief and love on Me because you have
seen, felt, or heard me?” But we want to be those in the fullest sense of whom our
Lord says: “Blessed are those who base their belief on Me, and love Me, because I
Am Who I Am, not because they have seen, felt or heard me.”
It seems appropriate to conclude with the words of St. John of the Cross from the
Spiritual Canticle:
You will still urge and say, How is it, then, that I find Him not, nor feel
Him, if He is within my soul? It is because He is hidden, and because you hide not
yourself also that you may find Him and feel Him; for he that will seek that which
is hidden must enter secretly into the secret place where it is hidden, and when
he finds it, he is himself hidden like the object of his search. Seeing, then, that
the Bridegroom whom you love is “the treasure hidden in the field”
of your soul, for which the wise merchant gave all that he had, so you, if you will
find Him, must forget all that is yours, withdraw from all created things, and hide
yourself in the secret retreat of the spirit, shutting the door upon yourself —
that is, denying your will in all things — and praying to your Father in secret.
Then you, being hidden with Him, will be conscious of His presence in secret, and
will love Him, possess Him in secret, and delight in Him in secret, in a way that
no tongue or language can express. Courage, then, O soul most beautiful, you know now that your Beloved, Whom
you desire, dwells hidden within your breast; strive, therefore, to be truly hidden
with Him, and then you shall embrace Him, and be conscious of His presence with
loving affection. (Stanza I, 11-12).
In a special way however,
in the Sacraments, the Giver and the Gift is one and the same, yet still we may
become attached to the outward aspect of the gift of the Sacrament (i.e. the tangible
aspect) and may be in need of being purified in this respect, so that we turn away from the consideration of signs as though they were ends in themselves, towards the consideration of the God who communicates Himself through such
visible signs.
* There
is nothing necessarily wrong with changing the parish one attends if one
prefers one priest and their preaching over another, provided its God’s Will and one’s
motives are just. It is simply that imperfection lies is having one’s devotion dependent
upon external things and other creatures, including on priests and their performance.
In the same way its fine to kneel or sit when praying the Rosary, whatever
makes it easier for one ‘to pray well’; yet it would be an imperfection if one’s
devotion was dependent upon kneeling over sitting, or vice versa, as if
devotion consisted in exterior acts and not principally in a loving heart. If
one possessed true devotion, although they might prefer kneeling to sitting
during the Rosary, or sitting to kneeling, really they don’t care, and if they
had to adopt one position over the other (i.e. an injury) their heart would not
be troubled, not their devotion harmed.
John of the Cross,
Dark Night, Book I, Chapter III, 1.
John of the Cross,
Ascent of Mount Carmel, Book II, Chapter
XVII, 5.
Drawing
from the Gospel account when Thomas doubts: John 20:29.
