St. John of the Cross and Emptying the Mind

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The Living Flame of Love is my favorite by St John of the Cross.

Next to that is the Spiritual Canticle.

When I read them, they touched me and confirmed my prayer life was not my own, but what God had brought me to.

Jim
I love this thread. My favorite writing of St. John of the Cross is the Dark Night of the Soul. The Living Flame of Love is my second favorite because I like how St. John does a sort of “flash back” to explain what the soul endured before reaching the unitive state. I particularly like how St. John describes how the cautery of love wounds and then heals and then again and again until the soul is transformed into love and no longer experiences pain.

You all may have a different take on this. However, my understanding and experience of what this might mean is that over time the desires of our will and our feelings which are independent of our will eventually conform to each other. For me, I can see how God is accomplishing this through a particular situation that I face repeatedly which causes me distress. I have this distress no matter what I resolve to do and to accept for God’s will.

In truth, I desire God’s will above all else. Yet, this desire does not alleviate the pain I experience when faced with, yet again, another disappoint that somehow always catches me off guard. I do not *will *that I feel this way and realize that until the Good Doctor heals me, I am woefully subject to my condition. I acknowledge that I am really at the mercy of God and have limited options to help myself out of this including my vigilant attempts to empty my will, memory, and intellect via St. John’s instructions in the Ascent to Mount Carmel. For me, I view this as something akin to what St. John describes as the purification of spirit in the Dark Night of the Soul, a most painful process that I have now been undergoing for over two years. This process started shortly after I resolved to start attending Mass on a daily basis, receiving the Eucharist daily, and going to confession weekly.

Like Michael, I used to be intimidated by St. John of the Cross and, honestly, as I started reading The Ascent to Mount Carmel, I had to employ the St. Ignatius of Loyola’s rules for spiritual discernment to get through it. I now very much love St. John of the Cross and no longer feel intimidated because I believe that this is how to develop a very intimate relationship with God. I know that to follow St. John’s instructions requires a renunciation of all and acceptance of numerous and varied trials. Yet, I also know that the struggle and heartache faced pales in comparison to the eternal weight of glory that God promises us. And, this is not just for the afterlife but it is for here and now, the discovery that He, in fact, is the good gift and prize Who readily offers Himself to those Who seek Him, and seek Him again, and then again and again.

houston1
 
I dialogue with atheists from time to time and it seems to me they are always in a dark night but without faith. That is to say, they never have any spiritual sweetness from sensing God’s presence and love. None of the images or meditations make any sense to them. It seems impossible to get through to them. They are always wanting “evidence”. That seems to be a defining aspect of John’s theology: faith in the absolute absence of eveidence. That is what makes it dark.
 
John 16: 21 When a woman is in labor, she is in anguish because her hour has arrived; but when she has given birth to a child, she no longer remembers the pain because of her joy that a child has been born into the world. 22 So you also are now in anguish. But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you.

Peace
Very good. This is a good summary of the works of St. John of the Cross.

houston1
 
… including my vigilant attempts to empty my will, memory, and intellect via St. John’s instructions in the Ascent to Mount Carmel. For me, I view this as something akin to what St. John describes as the purification of spirit in the Dark Night of the Soul, a most painful process that I have now been undergoing for over two years.
Active and passive trials often occur simultaneously. My most painful spiritual trials relate to the purification of the memory as described in The Ascent Book 3, Chapters 1-15 … which is probably why I’ve been so vocal on this thread. Really, though, the trials I experienced trying to persevere in acquired contemplation were indistinguishable from the passive purification of memory St. John describes in The Dark Night Book 2, Chapter 8. Acquired and infused contemplation inter-mixed.

It took me a long time to realize that these mystical teachings are not meant to be interpreted in a linear order: Mansion 1 begets 2 then 3,4,5,6 and finally 7. Or we’re purified first by the active night of sense followed by the passive night of sense then the active night of spirit followed by passive night of spirit. St. John and St. Teresa needed some sort of structure to present these teachings … and this was the way they chose (or were shown) to do it.

In my own case I was a nominal Catholic at best when suddenly at 8AM on Sept 17, 2002 I was struck by what I can only describe as a St. Paul on the road to Damascus moment. It was a life changing and instantaneous conversion I now see as a “touch” from St. John’s teaching. But how could that be since he says a “touch” is a specific aspect of union and I was still like a “reptile swimming around in the moat outside the castle” to use a bit of imagery from St. Teresa’s Interior Castle?

I had no prayer life previously … and then suddenly I was brought to the “loving attentiveness” Michael showed in his last post. My only spiritual food was reading St. Teresa’s prayer states of recollection, quiet and union and the passive trials of book 2 of the Dark Night.

Clearly I skipped many steps in this dramatic conversion I describe.

But what I’ve also learned is this: while God might immerse us a great deal in these teachings or little, or that He may start us at a point other than the literal beginning … He will always go back and “fill in the blanks” of what was left undone. Again, in my own case, purification of sense has typically lagged that of the spirit … but nevertheless He is working on me in all of it.

Blessings to you,
Dave 🙂
 
Active and passive trials often occur simultaneously. My most painful spiritual trials relate to the purification of the memory as described in The Ascent Book 3, Chapters 1-15 … which is probably why I’ve been so vocal on this thread. Really, though, the trials I experienced trying to persevere in acquired contemplation were indistinguishable from the passive purification of memory St. John describes in The Dark Night Book 2, Chapter 8. Acquired and infused contemplation inter-mixed.

It took me a long time to realize that these mystical teachings are not meant to be interpreted in a linear order: Mansion 1 begets 2 then 3,4,5,6 and finally 7. Or we’re purified first by the active night of sense followed by the passive night of sense then the active night of spirit followed by passive night of spirit. St. John and St. Teresa needed some sort of structure to present these teachings … and this was the way they chose (or were shown) to do it.

In my own case I was a nominal Catholic at best when suddenly at 8AM on Sept 17, 2002 I was struck by what I can only describe as a St. Paul on the road to Damascus moment. It was a life changing and instantaneous conversion I now see as a “touch” from St. John’s teaching. But how could that be since he says a “touch” is a specific aspect of union and I was still like a “reptile swimming around in the moat outside the castle” to use a bit of imagery from St. Teresa’s Interior Castle?

I had no prayer life previously … and then suddenly I was brought to the “loving attentiveness” Michael showed in his last post. My only spiritual food was reading St. Teresa’s prayer states of recollection, quiet and union and the passive trials of book 2 of the Dark Night.

Clearly I skipped many steps in this dramatic conversion I describe.

But what I’ve also learned is this: while God might immerse us a great deal in these teachings or little, or that He may start us at a point other than the literal beginning … He will always go back and “fill in the blanks” of what was left undone. Again, in my own case, purification of sense has typically lagged that of the spirit … but nevertheless He is working on me in all of it.

Blessings to you,
Dave 🙂
Dave,

Thank you for sharing your experience. You know St. John of the Cross’s works intimately. As I learn best from examples, I would appreciate your providing examples from your own experience of how you worked to actively purify your memory and how you endured the passive purification of your memory by God (of course, you can keep it somewhat general if it is too personal to share).

I seem to recall from another one of your posts from some time ago that you may have said something that prompted me to conclude that as a person acquires the gift of contemplation and grows closer to God through it that soon afterward the person is primarily tempted against the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and love. In my experience, I am finding that I have faced strong temptations to despair; distrust in God to answer prayer and just leave me languishing in uncertainty; and generally to just give up what I believe He is calling me to do in a particular situation (all of these against hope, for sure, some faith, and, of course, love - as where one of these is affected, the other two are, also). I may be misunderstanding what you may have said in the prior post. In any case, do you have any thoughts on this?

I agree with you that each person’s path can be different, jumping from one mansion to another, but assured that everything will be addressed and purified eventually.
Thanks and God bless you.

houston1
 
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houston1:
As I learn best from examples, I would appreciate your providing examples from your own experience of how you worked to actively purify your memory
As mentioned, the purification of memory is of great interest to me … so much so that I gave a series of talks on the subject to my Carmelite community. I’ve shared these talks before and do so now in the hope something in here might be of help. These are very personal reflections chock-full of real-life examples, hopefully presented in an easy to understand manner. Here’s a taste on the active night of spirit (The Ascent Book 3, Chapters 1-15) …
Our Carmelite Promise: A Personal Reflection - Part 1:
MOVIES IN OUR MIND
Several years ago on retreat, I saw a stained glass window in the Church that moved me deeply. It said:

Silence … Of word … And mind … Of the imagination … And of passions … **Recollection **

And it occurred to me at that moment that interior silence is the key to unlocking the most mystical of the beatitudes: Purity of Heart . . . for it’s through silence that we will come to see the face of God. And this got me thinking about the multitude of interior passions that stifle purity of heart, acting like a fast growing cancer on the movements of the Holy Spirit in our souls. These passions play out in the back of our minds, often without our notice, like a continual running movie. What some might dismiss as trivial can actually be quite harmful, as my own experience has shown. It never ceases to amaze me how quickly my own mind can turn to anxiety, worry, complaining, excuses, rash judgment, petty resentments – all in a split second. Allowing useless thoughts like these to take hold of our mind – even for the briefest moment - is to banish Christ from the tabernacle of our heart.

Then it occurred to me that if we are to strive for purity of heart we must also live in simplicity. Simplicity means living in harmony . . . in union itself. When we open the door of our mind to Christ’s gentle knocking, we’ll “see the riches of simplicity, the treasures of peace, the joy of grace.” (St. Ambrose) The question, then, becomes how do we know when we have purity of heart? When we have purity of intention . . . love as our overriding motive. Purity of intention is the fruit of self-knowledge which, in turn, is the fruit of deep prayer. Purity of intention means knowing the state of one’s heart at every moment . . . before every thought is completed, any word is said or any action performed. Simplicity, then, is to realize all this and to continually examine our soul and expel any part that is not of God.

So, it would seem, this kind of simplicity is one that is based on self-denial. The ascetical life is sometimes described as nothing less than warfare on self-love. So if the passions of the mind choke off purity of heart . . . then the mind is where the battle must be waged. And interior silence becomes the means by which we fight. Quite simply, we need to turn off the movie running in the back of our minds that linger on the trivialities and useless thoughts that so often leads us toward the seven deadly sins.

Time and time again we must fight against our very selves and return to our place of rest . . . in God. Taken seriously, this is a battle that will be waged dozens if not hundreds of times a day. Seen in this light, silence is mortification . . . and a joyful sacrifice at that. Silence is where all the false idols we hold so dear are purged one by one from our soul. When you get right down to it, this is the essence of St. John of the Cross’ dark night. Further, this interior warfare highlights the wisdom of all the saints: mysticism without asceticism is a sham and a lie.

The mystical and ascetical, then, lead us to the glorious reality of knowing the indwelling presence of the Trinity in our souls. Too often, it seems, we over complicate contemplation. On retreat, Father told us “con-templation” simply means “with God in His temple.” The temple, of course, is our heart. Our contemplation is perfected when it becomes mystical and permeates all aspects of our life . . . when we begin living the unseen reality. And this is where the gifts of the Holy Spirit come into play, for without them we will never hear, let alone obey, His inspiration.

Living the unseen reality is to be attentive and receptive to the gentle stirrings of the Holy Spirit at all times. It’s to Practice the Presence of God and live entirely in the present moment. Joyful living is to “just be” — whether in prayer or in action. It’s to allow oneself to be guided by the Holy Spirit until He completely takes over. When this happens, our lives become intuitive, spontaneous, in rhythm. We move from situation to situation as the Spirit guides us . . . in a state of wonder and awe at everything.

Through silence our fruits will be made known and benefit others; radiating from the core of our being outward. We will shine. Seen in this light, silence is our sacred obligation. And lest anyone think only monastics can practice it; our Carmelite masters teach that silence can be achieved by anyone in any state of life. But truth be told, it’s one thing to know “what” to do and another thing entirely “how” to do it! The answer to “how” would seem to have much to do with being silent to self – and LISTENING.
If anyone is interested in reading further, please click this link and select “Our Carmelite Promises” Talk #7

meditationsfromcarmel.com/content/formation-talks

Dave 🙂
 
houston1 said:
… and how you endured the passive purification of your memory by God (of course, you can keep it somewhat general if it is too personal to share).

Here is a sample of a very personal reflection on the passive night of spirit as related to memory (The Dark Night, Book 2, Chapter 8) …
Our Carmelite Promise: A Personal Reflection - Part 2:
SPIRITUAL FOG
But passive understanding is also given to help us along. First, we need to recognize that self-knowledge is the fruit of our hearing – the fine tuning of our conscience. And it can be intensely painful. In cultivating an attitude of silence we will be shown through “that little voice in our conscience” all sorts of sins, faults and imperfections we were previously unaware. Perhaps what we once thought was virtue is now seen as vice. And no matter how holy we might think we are, we begin to see that a selfish streak still lies hidden; buried and imbedded deep in the roots of our very soul. Simply put, our pain is the realization we are not who we think we are.

Second, we learn to see that God Himself has a hand in some of our falls. Sometimes our difficulty listening is self-inflicted, as with “Shiny Rocks.” Other times, though, trials are given us by God that places our memory in a great state of “forgetfulness of all things” that resembles a spiritual fog. During these passive trials, our active efforts to let go and tune-in are all but useless. We are overwhelmed by the advance of the fog descending upon us; blinding us to the work He is doing in the very depth of our souls.

St. John of the Cross describes this forgetfulness so wonderfully:

these persons can neither pray vocally nor be attentive to spiritual matters, nor still less attend to temporal affairs and business. Furthermore, they frequently experience such absorption and profound forgetfulness in the memory that long periods pass without their knowing what they did or thought about, and they know not what they are doing or about to do, nor can they concentrate on the tasks at hand, even though they desire to. (Dark Night, Bk 2, Chpt 8)

There is a great paradox here. The mind is intensely occupied, but it doesn’t know with what. The preoccupation that could previously be identified and easily dealt with in the active night; now goes by no name and we are powerless to stop it. The mind is completely captivated, yet we’re entirely forgetful. A huge disconnect exists, so much so that the mind literally asks itself, “where am I?” And, “where is He?”

This spiritual fog is “like” being in limbo; a void that is neither here nor there. It is truly a world between worlds. And it is a dark place with no visible means of escape; at least one that can be achieved through the strength of one’s own effort as in Practicing the Presence of God. So we find ourselves seemingly worthless to the needs of the world which lies below us; and unworthy of the call of the Spirit that relentlessly beckons from above. We remember the joys of the days in which we were able to listen and speak with Him in dialogue. Now that seems like an ancient memory. It is, as St. John describes while quoting a Psalm: “I was annihilated and knew not.”

What seems to be happening in these periods of spiritual fog is that God is allowing all sorts of deep seated spiritual “notions of self” (opinions, preferences, expectations, judgments) to bubble up from our subconscious – the fruit of His purifying hand in the dark fire of contemplation. It is like the Divine Doctor lancing a boil as ego, in the form of selfish clinging, is removed from all that we hold dear . . . the very concept of who we think we are. The poisons are being drained from our system so that we can be healed: “He humbles so that He may exalt.”

Yet, almost miraculously, life marches on and no one around you is the wiser. No one sees any of this, not even those closest to you; except in small exterior glimpses. He keeps all of this very hidden. So deadlines are met, obligations fulfilled, the duties of one’s state are kept in good working order . . . all for the benefit of those to whom you’ve been given. But you don’t know how any of this gets done in this state of forgetfulness. It’s as if you are a tiny, little pebble buffeted about by the strong current of a stream. You bounce here . . . then there. But all the time you’re moving . . . moving . . . moving … continually downstream.

So as St. John of the Cross teaches, our only true recourse is humble submission to His purifying hand and patient endurance for as long as He wills the storm to last. The key thing to remember at these times is that ultimately He must act. And in keeping with the Gospel teaching of Jesus Calming the Sea, He will either answer our prayer and command the storm to cease; or grant us the grace of an added measure of peace – to sleep in the boat as He did – while the waves of spiritual fog continue to crash in upon us.

Then and only then, will we be freed to hear the sound of the little chirping bird from our first talk; instead of the continual drone of the jackhammer in the form of spiritual fog. And we will be able to Practice the Presence of God again; but now, remarkably, in a new and deeper way. When the fog lifts, we find ourselves one step closer to the “second nature” Brother Lawrence holds as his promise.
If anyone is interested in reading further, please click this link and select “Our Carmelite Promises” Talk #8

meditationsfromcarmel.com/content/formation-talks

Dave 🙂
 
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houston1:
I seem to recall from another one of your posts from some time ago that you may have said something that prompted me to conclude that as a person acquires the gift of contemplation and grows closer to God through it that soon afterward the person is primarily tempted against the three theological virtues of faith, hope, and** love**. In my experience, I am finding that I have faced strong temptations to despair; distrust in God to answer prayer and just leave me languishing in uncertainty; and generally to just give up what I believe He is calling me to do in a particular situation (all of these against hope, for sure, some faith, and, of course, love - as where one of these is affected, the other two are, also). I may be misunderstanding what you may have said in the prior post. In any case, do you have any thoughts on this?
The experience of night is different for everybody. The way St. Teresa of Avila describes it is different from St. John of the Cross who differs in expression from St. Therese of Lisieux. Just to give a few examples. While our entire soul is purified in the nights – with effects that are spiritual, physical and psychological – St. John gives hints why the experience varies by individual. He describes in The Dark Night how passive trials center on one or more of the theological virtues … some are tried in Faith (intellect), others in Hope (memory) and others still in Love (will).

I wonder from your description above if Faith could be the focus of your particular trial? If so, here’s a reflection on what St. John of the Cross has to say as well as the particular experience of St. Therese of Lisieux’s crisis of faith that might be of some help :

Post too long … continued:
 
Our Carmelite Promise: Faith as Unknowing:
ST. THERESE AS PRACTICAL EXAMPLE
And what better example of this way of unknowing do we have than our very own St. Therese! If by Faith we reach out into the unseen and invisible and yet, paradoxically, find intimate union with Christ … then St. Therese is a wonderful model for us to follow; a true disciple of St. John of the Cross. Celine had this to say about her sister:

Therese lived on bare faith her entire life. There was no soul less consoled in prayer. Nonetheless, people believed she was flooded with spiritual consolations, so unctuous were her words and deeds, so intimately was she united to God (A Memoir of My Sister, p103).

Therese’s lot was that Jesus told her nothing. So deep was her Faith that even as a teen she proclaimed “He is going to no trouble about carrying on a conversation with me! (Letters74) And yet, “He is giving me a peace so great that it is doing me good! (Letters 76) This is the essence of paradox … how she simply willed to believe that the nothingness she felt in the depths of her soul was in fact Christ Himself. It was the coexistence of seeming contraries: joy and suffering … aridity and serenity … nothing and everything. Thus she gave us her description of her interior life as “Jesus sleeping, as usual, in my little boat” (Story of a Soul, p165). And this experience of unknowing evokes imagery of night particularly her own … but one, nonetheless, that’s accessible to all:

My Fiance says nothing to me, and I say nothing to Him except that I love Him more than myself … for I am more His than my own. I don’t see that we are advancing towards the summit of the mountain since our journey is being made underground, but it seems to me that we are approaching it without knowing how (Letters 110)

She continues that “my soul is always in the subterranean passage, but it is very happy! (Letters 115)” This was the spiritual understanding she came to know from various trials she endured from her youth. Just as St. John teaches, her purification came through the ordinary circumstances of life. Her great accomplishment: the ability to see these trials in a purely spiritual way … as a gift … which allowed her to travel through the nights quicker than most of us who slow down the process by resisting, complaining and desiring to be rid of all that troubles us.

But Therese would have none of that and she always found a way to profit from the trials and tribulations of daily life. We see this in the death of her mother, Pauline leaving home soon thereafter, her serious childhood illness healed only by the smile of the Virgin, a long crisis of scruples cured by her Christmas conversion, her long struggle to enter Carmel followed shortly after by her father’s mental illness. Through all this, she detached herself from everything that could separate her from the love of Christ.

The culmination of all this, of course, was the crisis of Faith she endured just prior to her death. When she coughed up the first blood of her final illness she had what might seem an unusual response: transports of joy over the thought of going to heaven. She entered a brief, consoling period … one that fortified her for what was to come:

At this time I was enjoying such a living faith, such a clear faith, that the thought of heaven made up all my happiness and I was unable to believe there were really impious people who had no faith (Story of a Soul p211).

This innocence with regard to the shortcomings of others was to be the cause of her final purification … not of her own imperfections for those had likely already been purged; rather her suffering was redemptive … for the good of souls. Now Jesus denied her one last great hope:

He permitted my soul to be invaded by the thickest darkness and that the thought of heaven up until then so sweet to me, be no longer anything but the cause of struggle and torment (Story of a Soul p211).
Joined now intimately to souls, Therese found herself mocked by the voice of sinners inwardly telling her the harrowing destiny that awaited her:

You are dreaming about the light, about a fatherland embalmed in the sweetest perfumes; you are dreaming about the eternal possession of the Creator of all these marvels; you believe that one day you will walk out of this fog that surrounds you! Advance, advance; rejoice in death which will give you not what you hope for but a night still more profound … the night of nothingness (Story of a Soul p213)

Therese’s response to this interior onslaught was truly heroic. Rather than give in to despair, she practiced ever more frequent acts of Faith … her spiritual life reduced to the utmost simplicity of a purified will that proclaimed “I WANT TO BELIEVE.“ (Story of a Soul, p214) In short, she practiced the teaching of St. John of the Cross to turn off the movies in her mind that continually sought to present these crushing thoughts to her. She denied the hand of the devil by simply refusing to dwell on them. Rather, she changed the subject of her thoughts by returning to Jesus in recollection … the spouse who remained hidden, as usual, behind an unpeneterable wall. She was truly living the words of the Gospel … “Happy are those who have not seen and yet believe.” (Jn 20:29)
If anyone is interested in reading further, please click this link and select “Our Carmelite Promises” Talk #5

meditationsfromcarmel.com/content/formation-talks

Dave 🙂
 
My apologies for posting so much :o

Hopefully something in here helps!

Dave 🙂

PS. Regardless how one experiences the night (intellect, will or memory), there is one sure path through the spiritual trials … RECOLLECTION!
 
My apologies for posting so much :o

Hopefully something in here helps!

Dave 🙂

PS. Regardless how one experiences the night (intellect, will or memory), there is one sure path through the spiritual trials … RECOLLECTION!
Dave,

I read all of your posts. Thank you! Each of them contained a very thoughtful analysis and very much what I believe I am undergoing at present and have been for now over two years. Perhaps, I do have somewhat a crisis of faith - not that I believe heaven isn’t real and that I will not go there but that God has no intention to grant my particular request for a friendship with the soon-to-be pastor of my parish (remember my PMs and I’ve mentioned this on other posts on CAF). I have made a lot of headway in developing some kind of pleasant exchange with this person within the last two years. But, I am still a long way off from a “friendship” as I have so very few opportunities to interact with this person.

Yet periodically, God will decide to grant a few of my very specific prayer requests related to this person in the most coincidental of circumstances, i.e., some out-of-the-blue opportunity to have some pleasant interaction with this person. Then nothing . . . and then nothing again . . . and then waiting with no recourse to help myself out of this fix. As I have mentioned previously in other posts, I do not want to want this friendship but God has refused to take this desire away from me (to date).

I cannot easily flee this situation because that would mean quitting daily Mass and weekly confession. Other parishes are logistically difficult to attend daily Mass since my son goes to school at this parish with the soon-to-be pastor. I have other legitimate reasons for not wanting to quit this parish, also, which I won’t go into at the moment.

On the active night, the “law” of charity has me conducting myself as though this desire for friendship is not pertinent, i.e. self denial at play. So, rather than avoiding this person, I must be friendly and cheerful, in spite of how I feel. I also treat other parishioners kindly and fairly even when it means a lost opportunity for me to interact with my soon-to-be pastor.

On the passive night, like you convey above, the world keeps on spinning and, with the exception of a few trusted friends and my spiritual advisor, no one else knows the struggle I face. I “feel” alone because heaven is closed to my prayers and no one on earth understands why I cannot let this go or can help me out of my dilemma. I am really at God’s mercy to release me from this prison because I am trapped until He releases me. In addition, I have no assurances from anywhere or anyone that this will be over soon. My desire certainly has not waned but may have even increased in the last two years so that I want this friendship more than ever.

Regardless, in faith, I fully trust God and know He is using this for my good and for His saving work. For that, I am very grateful. My feelings just don’t align with my will. It is this disconnect that causes me the excruciating pain. With the psalmist, I can also say, “my one companion is darkness” (Ps. 88:19).

If you have any insights to help me, I’d appreciate it.

houston1
 
The…“coexisting of seeming contraries” is an ecstasy. Exquisite pain the proximate cause of ineffable joy. Embrace what you are fleeing and trust Jesus. Pray without ceasing.

Peace
 
The…“coexisting of seeming contraries” is an ecstasy. Exquisite pain the proximate cause of ineffable joy. Embrace what you are fleeing and trust Jesus. Pray without ceasing.

Peace
hazcompat,

I’m not sure whether you read my last post that I addressed to Dave about my desire to develop a friendship with my soon-to-be pastor. When you say “embrace what you are fleeing and trust Jesus,” can you give me an example of what this might entail in my case?

Interiorly, I accept and embrace this cross because I know that God has made this especially for me. And, through this trial, my faith in God has increased immeasurably because it is only through my faith in Him that I that am able to hold onto the hope that God will eventually grant my request. Every other sign says “no.” Yet, I have peace in spite of all obstacles and ominous signs.

If the coexistence of seeming contraries is ecstasy, then I am in ecstasy much of the time. 😉

houston1
 
Houston, in the other thread and in this one also, you mention your concern about developing a friendship with the priest. Based on what I read, you have been working with this priest on some projects, and you have chance to see and talk to the priest when attend daily Mass.

A priest belongs to all parishioners and we all have a friendship with our priest. I am not sure what kind of relationship you are seeking after. Are you hoping for a special attention, a special kind of friendship? Please help me understand, if you will.
 
Houston, in the other thread and in this one also, you mention your concern about developing a friendship with the priest. Based on what I read, you have been working with this priest on some projects, and you have chance to see and talk to the priest when attend daily Mass.

A priest belongs to all parishioners and we all have a friendship with our priest. I am not sure what kind of relationship you are seeking after. Are you hoping for a special attention, a special kind of friendship? Please help me understand, if you will.
InLight247,

Actually . . . that’s just it . . . I am not certain. I think it is one of those things that “I’ll know it when I see it.” It very well may be a working relationship like a boss/employee relationship. Ten years ago, I worked in a professional environment and was accustomed to working in an environment which required a lot of problem solving and trouble shooting (i.e., an accounting environment). I always got the attaboy’s particularly from my male bosses. Then I left the workforce to go and adopt my son who is now 9 years old.

For the first 8 years, I was content just staying home with my son living a somewhat worldly life (like watching certain secular tv programs, shopping, pedicures, etc.) until a little over two years ago, I made the resolve to going to Mass every day, receiving the Eucharist every day, going to confession every week, and withdrawing from everything that wasn’t necessary (per what the saints describe). It was at that time that I developed this desire to have some relationship with my soon-to-be pastor. At first, I was extremely unsettled by my feelings of wanting the attention of this man. So, for the first year, I avoided him as much as possible, hoping the feelings would eventually go away. See. I thought this was some sort of distraction to take me off the path to God . . . thinking, “why should I care to have the attention of any person? Isn’t God enough?”

Then, I finally found a spiritual director, an older, experienced priest, to help me. Through his counsel and other spiritual friends, I have accepted that I am stuck with this and must use these feelings for God’s glory. That is why I am now on the pastoral council and look for opportunities to offer my help to this priest. I’ve also asked my husband to help me figure out ways to get this priest to accept my help. And, in fact, this priest has accepted my help on many occasions. Yet, this isn’t enough for me. . . . and I don’t know why it isn’t. Perhaps, I am hoping for a more formal role in the parish???

This whole process has caused me an interior trial beyond anything I’ve ever experienced to date. My seeking opportunities to help this priest is burdensome because I feel it is so one way. I am always the one to offer (and he will accept) but he never asks for my help. I know that he needs help as he is now the only priest in our parish of 1,400 families.

Does this help? I would appreciate your insight. I know that I must wait on God and see what He has in store for me. Yet, knowing this does not alleviate my suffering. I have this suffering against my will.

houston1
 
hazcompat,

I’m not sure whether you read my last post that I addressed to Dave about my desire to develop a friendship with my soon-to-be pastor. When you say “embrace what you are fleeing and trust Jesus,” can you give me an example of what this might entail in my case?

Interiorly, I accept and embrace this cross because I know that God has made this especially for me. And, through this trial, my faith in God has increased immeasurably because it is only through my faith in Him that I that am able to hold onto the hope that God will eventually grant my request. Every other sign says “no.” Yet, I have peace in spite of all obstacles and ominous signs.

If the coexistence of seeming contraries is ecstasy, then I am in ecstasy much of the time. 😉

houston1
I posted this in response to DBT post regarding “ST. THERESE AS PRACTICAL EXAMPLE” I have read your posts, and all the posts in this thread. Struggling against is sanctifying. The only thing I would offer for your cosideration is:

Abandonment to Divine Providence
by
Jean-Pierre de Caussade

SECTION III.—The Work of our Sanctification.
…All you who strive after perfection and who are tempted to discouragement at the remembrance of what you have read in the lives of the saints, and of what certain pious books prescribe; O you who are appalled by the terrible ideas of perfection that you have formed for yourselves; it is for your consolation that God has willed me to write this. Learn that of which you seem to be ignorant. This God of all goodness has made those things easy which are common and necessary in the order of nature, such as breathing, eating, and sleeping. No less necessary in the supernatural order are love and fidelity, therefore it must needs be that the difficulty of acquiring them is by no means so great as is generally represented. …If man fulfils his part God will do the rest. Grace being bestowed only on this condition the marvels it effects are beyond the comprehension of man. For neither ear has heard nor eye seen, nor has it entered the mind what things God has planned in His omniscience, determined in His will, and carried out by His power in the souls given up entirely to Him. The passive part of sanctity is still more easy since it only consists in accepting that which we very often have no power to prevent, and in suffering lovingly, that is to say with sweetness and consolation, those things that too often cause weariness and disgust. Once more I repeat, in this consists sanctity. This is the grain of mustard
seed which is the smallest of all the seeds, the fruits of which can neither be recognised nor gathered. It is the drachma of the Gospel, the treasure that none discover because they suppose it to be too far away to be sought. Do not ask me how this treasure can be found. It is no secret. The treasure is everywhere, it is offered to us at all times and wherever we may be. All creatures, both friends and enemies pour it out with prodigality, and it flows like a fountain through every faculty of body and soul even to the very centre of our hearts. If we open our mouths they will be filled. The divine activity permeates the whole universe, it pervades every creature; wherever they are it is there; it goes before them, with them, and it follows them; all they have to do is to let the waves bear them
on.
Would to God that kings, and their ministers, princes of the Church and of the world, priests and soldiers, the peasantry and labourers, in a word, all men could know how very easy it would be for them to arrive at a high degree of sanctity. They would only have to fulfil the simple duties of Christianity and of their state of life; to embrace with submission the crosses belonging to that state, and to submit with faith and love to the designs of Providence in all those things that have to be done or suffered without going out of their way to seek occasions for themselves. This is the spirit by which the patriarchs and prophets were animated and sanctified before there were so many systems of so many masters of the spiritual life. This is the spirituality of all ages and of every state. No state of life can, assuredly, be sanctified in a more exalted manner, nor in a more wonderful and easy way than by the simple use of the means that God, the sovereign director of souls, gives them to do or to suffer at each moment.

Perfection consists in doing the will of God, not in understanding His designs.

Sin is contrary to the will of God.

Peace
 
houston1,

how do you define “friendship” as used in your previous post?

Peace
 
I’ve also asked my husband to help me figure out ways to get this priest to accept my help. And, in fact, this priest has accepted my help on many occasions. Yet, this isn’t enough for me. . . . and I don’t know why it isn’t. Perhaps, I am hoping for a more formal role in the parish???
I believe it is a temptation, and so as not to derail this thread, I sent an answer in your original thread. 🙂
 
Houston, thank you for your honest sharing. The strong “feelings” you describe is almost like some kind of crush. It sounds so intense that you feel “suffering” when you do not get enough opportunity to work with him. You feel it as a trial when your own desire is not fulfilled.

As we grow in holiness and our genuine love of God, we will put away our personal desires when we serve. The priest may have his good reason to only accept your help but not initiate it. What you described appears to be a temptation to overcome. We all need to overcome temptations. It is part of the purification.
 
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