XIX — ARIDITY AND CONTEMPLATION

Presence of God. — O Lord, draw me to yourself by the way You will and as You will; I ask only for the grace always to follow you.

Meditation

1 — Aridity caused by God not only has the advantage of making progress in virtue, but also that of raising the soul to a higher form of prayer. It is precisely by means of this kind of aridity that St. John of the Cross leads souls to a form of prayer he calls “contemplation,” distinct from that which derives from reflection. To recognize aridity caused by God, the Saint indicates three signs. The first is this: as the soul no longer finds delight in the things of God, so too it detaches itself from created things (N. I, 9, 2). It can happen that the soul, through fault of sins committed, loses the taste for the things of God; then, however, it goes in search of satisfying its own desire, and, while in this case, though no longer feeling joy in being with the Lord, it does not return to earthly things but remains firm in the decision to keep itself detached from them. The second sign is that, even in aridity, the soul “ordinarily turns its thought to God with solicitude and painful care, desiring to serve him” (N. II, 9, 3); in other words, the soul seeks the Lord and, though not savoring Him, still continues to desire Him.

Whoever can no longer find delight in prayer still remains occupied with God, though in an obscure way, like a person gone astray. When aridity does not derive from habitual tepidity, the soul is by no means unconcerned with not loving God; it has not become indifferent. The last sign consists in “no longer being able to meditate or reason with the imagination as before, however much one tries” (N. I, 9, 8). The soul would like to meditate, applies itself to it, strives as much as it can, and yet does not succeed. When this state is continuous - for if it lasted only for some period, it could come from particular physical or moral circumstances - and, though fluctuating between days of greater and lesser intensity, tends to invade the whole soul so as to make meditation habitually impossible for it, then it is indeed a matter of seeing in such aridity the Lord’s call to a deeper prayer.

2 — By immersing the soul in aridity, the Lord wishes to raise it from a still too human and low way of dealing with Him to a more supernatural way. In meditation the soul went to God through the work of its intellect, an excellent means, but still very limited and inadequate for making us know God who, being infinite, immeasurably surpasses the capacity of our intellect. Now God, by placing the soul in aridity, makes meditation impossible for it, obliging it, so to speak, to go to Him by another way.

According to St. John of the Cross this way is that of initial contemplation, which consists in beginning to know God no longer only with the intellect, but through the experience of love, an experience that will not communicate new ideas of God to the soul, but will give it the “sense” of his greatness. Indeed, we have already seen that precisely in the midst of aridity there is born in the soul that tormenting pain of no longer loving the Lord, no longer feeling Him, a pain that would not exist if the soul had not acquired a profound sense of God’s greatness and of how worthy He is to be loved. Such a sense is not the fruit of reasonings - which now the soul is no longer capable of making - but of its experience of love; and in fact the soul, though not aware of it, loves God much more than before, and the finest proof of this is precisely that strong pain that torments it through fear of not loving Him. Thus it is that, precisely through this painful experience of love, consisting in concern over not loving and serving its God, contemplative knowledge is born in the soul, that is, the “sense” of God. It is true that this is a knowledge that for now has nothing comforting for the soul, but it is nevertheless most precious because, much better than any meditation, it infuses into it the “sense” of divinity and therefore causes it to fall ever more in love with that God whose infinite lovableness it now intuits more deeply. And these advantages are so precious that, in view of them, the soul not only must embrace with courage the aridity the Lord has sent it, but recognize in it one of the greatest mercies He can grant it.

Colloquy

“O Jesus, how bitter and heavy life is when you hide yourself from our love! What are you doing then, O my sweet Friend? Do you not see my anguish and the weight that oppresses me? Where are you? Why do you not come to console me, since I have no other friend besides you?

“But if it pleases you to leave me in this state, help me to accept it for love of you. Grant that I may love you even to suffering for you all that You will, all pains of spirit, aridities, anguishes, apparent coldnesses, because it is a great proof of love to love you without feeling the sweetness of your love.

“Many, O Lord, serve you when you console them, but who are those that consent to keep you company when you sleep upon the stormy waves... Who then will serve you solely for yourself, without seeking consolations? Oh, grant that it may be I! Your glory and your pleasure, O Jesus, this is all my ambition; my only ambition and delight I abandon to you! And if it seems to me that You disown me, well then, You are free to do so, for I am no longer mine, I am wholly yours.

“You, divine Shepherd, leave all the faithful little sheep in the desert to run after the lost one. How this trust moves me! You are very sure of your sheep! And how could they flee? They are slaves of love. And so You, beloved Shepherd of my soul, deprive me of your sensible presence, to bring your consolations to sinners... O Lord, do as You please. You will grow tired sooner of making me wait than I of waiting for you!” (cf. T.B.G. Letters).

My God, one thing only I ask: that in this aridity my love may grow and that I remain faithful to You at any cost; that, the less I feel I love You, the more I love You with the reality of deeds; that, the less my love gives joy to me, the more it may give glory to You. And if to grow in love I must suffer, blessed be this trial, for You strike me to instruct me, mortify me to heal me and to give me greater life.