St. John of the Cross (1542–1591)

Upon a darkened night
The flame of love was burning in my breast
And by a lantern bright
I fled my house while all in quiet rest...

I was first introduced to this famous poem by 16th-century mystic St. John of the Cross through Loreena McKennitt's song on her album "The Mask and Mirror." It's a beautiful piece of work describing the soul's union with God, and I was interested to read the theological treatise he wrote later in his life about it. Unfortunately, the poem is much better read by show more itself than painstakingly expounded.

The "dark night of the soul" is a term that denotes a period of spiritual dryness, when all devotional activities feel particularly flat and stale, and the soul is assailed by doubts and confusion. As a description of spiritual drought — something I think every Christian experiences — it's excellent, but where I just don't follow St. John is in his insistence on the details of every stage of the dark night. His wandering, belabored descriptions quickly become tedious, and the result is irrelevant to the vigorous pursuit of holiness taught by the New Testament.

Biblically speaking, is the dark night supposed to be the defining theme of the Christian life? I'm not convinced it is. In the New Testament, Christians are urged to live wisely, serve one another, grow in knowledge and wisdom, work hard, examine themselves, bear fruit, be humble, and love faithfully. One thing we aren't told to do is spend our lives analyzing our spiritual depression and contemplating the vicissitudes of our inner man. Focusing so much energy and time on what's going on inside seems a little narcissistic, even if it is a spiritualized introspection. The Bible doesn't emphasize the experience of spiritual dryness and I think it's a mistake for us to do so. I'm not denying that spiritual dryness exists, but I think wallowing in it encourages a focus on self to the exclusion of other things like serving others and being faithful regardless of our feelings.

St. John's biblical exegesis is weak; he only quotes Scripture when it supports his point (rather than Scripture being the starting point and his point being drawn from it), and he often has to twist it dreadfully to make it mean what he wants it to. Occasionally even the interpretations he wrests from his spare lines of poetry are also a stretch; at times he is extremely literal and other times the meaning is, of course, highly symbolic. There is no consistency in his interpretative principles.

What I'm gathering from the Catholic mystics I've read thus far is that they are just like mystics of any other religion: they spout lots of man-made ideology and structures, they are absorbed in their own spiritual lives to the point of being self centered, and occasionally they say something that is true and beautiful. For the Christian seeking biblical truth, this will not satisfy. show less

This is one of the most difficult religious treatises I've ever read. The language is somewhat arcane, and the concepts are very esoteric. It sounds like I didn't like the book, but I did; enough to probably reread this some day given how thought provoking it was. The idea that the soul prospers in abandoning everything, paring down even beyond the spiritual action, is counter-intuitive, and somewhat convicting. Highly recommended for the searchers in life.

A beautiful meditation on spiritual progress, primarily aimed at those relatively advanced in the spiritual life. I was surprised to find how much like a modern self-help book the text really is.

It has been sometime since I read John of the Cross and I think that biblical studies and Barth have ruined me for mysticism. Oh well. John of the Cross is a poetic soul and well I think there may be too much Neoplatonism in places, there is a lot of wisdom here. John of the Cross uses one of his poems to frame this discussion of progress in the spiritual life (like in Dark Night of the Soul) Ascent of Mt Carmel is built on a poem about a Dark Night of the Soul where we have the three 'dark show more nights': the dark night of the senses, the dark night of faith, and the dark night of God. Each of these correspond to times of night (early evening is the senses when we are starting out on the spiritual life; the dark night of faith is mid-night when the time seems darkest, and God is the dark night closest to the light of day where we exprience the soul in union with God). These correspond to the classic mystical progression of purgation, illumination, union, although there is purgation that happens at every stage of the dark night. We strip away material attachments, the benefits and supernatural gifts of God until we find our joy in God alone. A lot to ponder, and some interesting examples of medieval exegesis too. show less