Following Barb’s thought in the last post about the fire and the log, I believe the best chapter to understand what the soul experiences in the Dark Night of the Spirit is in Book II, scroll down to
Chapter 11.
For this present kind is an enkindling of spiritual love in the soul, which, in the midst of these dark confines, feels itself to be keenly and sharply wounded in strong Divine love, and to have a certain realization and foretaste of God, although it understands nothing definitely, for, as we say, the understanding is in darkness.
This love finds in the soul more occasion and preparation to unite itself with it and to wound it, according as all the soul’s desires are the more recollected, and are the more withdrawn from and disabled for the enjoyment of aught either in Heaven or in earth.
- When all the desires and energies of the soul, then, have been recollected in this enkindling of love, and when the soul itself has been touched and wounded in them all, and has been inspired with passion, what shall we understand the movements and digressions of all these energies and desires to be, if they find themselves enkindled and wounded with strong love and without the possession and satisfaction thereof, in darkness and doubt? They will doubtless be suffering hunger, like the dogs of which David speaks as running about the city; finding no satisfaction in this love, they keep howling and groaning.
For the touch of this love and Divine fire dries up the spirit and enkindles its desires, in order to satisfy its thirst for this Divine love, so much so that it turns upon itself a thousand times and desires God in a thousand ways and manners, with the eagerness and desire of the appetite.
- But in the midst of these dark and loving afflictions the soul feels within itself a certain companionship and strength, which bears it company and so greatly strengthens it that, if this burden of grievous darkness be taken away, it often feels itself to be alone, empty and weak. The cause of this is that, as the strength and efficacy of the soul were derived and communicated passively from the dark fire of love which assailed it, it follows that, when that fire ceases to assail it, the darkness and power and heat of love cease in the soul.
This correlates well with St. Teresa’s writings, where she called the wound of love a distress, that gave her so much satisfaction and sweetness that she would gladly suffer it. St. John worded in section 7 above that there is a felt presence of God that causes the spirit to travail with groaning and wounding, and when the heat of love’s wound has ceased, the soul feels alone and empty, until God grants the touch anew.
This form of passive, infused contemplation is experienced oppositely from the passive infused contemplation that one receives with inebriation and deep joy. In both forms, the soul is
recollected in God, and He bestows that inward touch without the soul being able to produce it at will, nor to remove it until God desires to end it. These touches are not continuous, as understood by hours upon end, but come upon one like a spark, as St. Teresa writes, and last as long as God ordains.
What St. John insists upon for one of the three important criteria that needs to be present before entering this second night, is described above as, [the soul is] “disabled for the enjoyment of aught either in Heaven or in earth.” He makes an important distinction that this is not due to melancholy or mental state of depression, but truly born of purification and deep love of God.
Therefore, it is my belief that souls in purgatory, have come to know this deep love of God, but are enduring the travail of love’s wounds, hungering and longing for God with true spiritual fire, unable to know when its trial will end.
Carole