XX — LOVING ATTENTION TO GOD

Presence of God. — O Lord, may Your presence be light and strength to my soul, be support and stay to my prayer.

Meditation

1 — If through aridity God invites the soul to a simpler and deeper prayer, it would be absurd to wish to force it to persist in meditation, which, moreover, it would no longer be able to make. The soul ought instead to be encouraged to abandon it without scruple and to apply itself to remaining quietly in the presence of God, attending to Him with a simple gaze of faith and love. Let it stay there, keeping Him company, content to be with Him, even though it has no felt sense of His presence. And it will find that, little by little, it grows accustomed to this new manner of making prayer and perceives that it is in contact with God in a way that is, in substance, better than before.

Let it not be troubled by the thought that it no longer knows how to love. Certainly it no longer knows how to love sensibly, as it once was moved at the thought of God’s love for it; but let it remember that the love of supernatural charity is not sensible love — it is love of the will, and this need not be felt. It consists solely in an intimate decision of the will whereby the soul gives God preference over all creatures and wills to consecrate itself entirely to His service. This is the true love that leads to the “sense of God.” Indeed, St. John of the Cross teaches that, precisely in this period of dark and initial contemplation, which is accomplished through the pains of purifying aridity, there begins to arise in the soul what he calls passive infused love — that is, the love by which the soul goes to God no longer only by the decision of its own will, but drawn secretly by Him as well. And so it is explained how its love, though not felt at all, is in reality stronger than before and impels it to give itself to God with ever greater resolution: it is God Himself who, drawing it to Himself in hidden ways, awakens love within it. When in prayer the soul, suffering on account of its impotence and aridity, fears that it does not love, let it examine itself gently on this point — that is, let it see whether, despite all the difficulties it experiences, it remains resolved to give itself totally to the Lord. And to make this resolution more concrete, let it apply it to the various circumstances of its life, particularly to those that cost it most: precisely because it no longer has the feeling of love, let it press itself to give God concrete proofs of love such as deeds and virtues practiced to please Him.

2 — Since this is initial contemplation, the soul must not be entirely passive; a certain application is always required of it, which must consist in maintaining dispositions suitable to receive the divine action. To this end St. John of the Cross teaches: “Let it endeavor to remain with loving attentiveness to God and with repose of the intellect... although it may seem to be doing nothing” (Ascent, II, 15, 5). Indeed, if it contents itself with remaining in the presence of God with a gaze of faith and love, its loving attention will go to meet the loving knowledge that God Himself is communicating to it, and so, uniting “knowledge with knowledge, love with love” (St. J.C., Living Flame, 3, 34), it will draw from prayer the greatest fruit.

Nevertheless, this loving knowledge that God infuses into it is delicate and tenuous, and never proceeds by way of clear and distinct concepts, but consists in a general and obscure “sense” of God, which secretly enamors the soul without the concurrence of feeling. Therefore the soul, especially at the beginning, cannot account for it, and, accustomed as it was to proceeding by way of reasoning and sensible affections, it has the impression of no longer doing anything — so much so that it often wishes to return to meditation, in which it felt it was accomplishing something. But St. John of the Cross puts it on guard against this: despite its efforts it would gain nothing from it and would achieve only the one result of disturbing God’s action within it. This, however, does not mean that the soul should not at all avail itself of some good thought or a little meditation. An attentive and delicate soul perceives when, even while finding itself in aridity, it is in the presence of God — and this suffices it to make prayer — and when, on the other hand, it is wandering uselessly and needs some good thought to recollect itself in God.

Colloquy

“My God, my God, why have You forsaken me? You are far from saving me, far from my plaintive words! My God, I cry by day and You do not answer; by night, and I find no hearing. Yet You are the Holy One, and the hope of Israel. In You our fathers trusted; they trusted and You saved them. To You they cried and were saved; in You they trusted and were not put to shame. But I am a worm and no man... I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint. My heart has become like wax and melts within my breast. My mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaves to my jaws” (Ps. 21). And, while I should wish to sing Your praises, the voice dies in my throat. O Lord, I have scarce the courage to raise my gaze to You, yet great is my desire to love You. I would tell You that I love You, but I dare not, for my heart is of stone, cold and arid as marble. What shall I do then, O Lord, in such great aridity? I will show You my misery; I will present to You my nothingness, my impotences, my incapacities, and I will say: remember, O Lord, that I am the wretched one and You the Merciful; I the sick one and You the Physician! O Lord, may the sight of my nothingness not cast me down, but launch me into You with humility and trust, with reverence and abandonment. O Lord, may I know myself, may I know You. May I know myself so as to despise myself; may I know You so as to love You and bless You for eternity.

Though I am parched land, desolate, though in my heart there is not a drop of devotion, yet here I wish to remain in Your presence, here close to You, to tell You that, in spite of everything, I desire and want You alone. “O Lord, since I find myself in such aridity, incapable of praying or practicing virtue, I want at least to seek out little occasions to please You: a smile, a kind word when I should prefer to stay silent and appear bored. And not finding these occasions, I want at least to repeat to You often that I love You. Even if the fire of love seems extinguished in my heart, I want still to throw little straws upon the ashes — little acts of virtue and of love — and I am certain that, with Your help, the fire will rekindle” (cf. T.B.G. Letters).