Presence of God

Draw me to You, O Lord, by the road You choose and in any way You will; I ask only for grace to know how to follow You always.

Meditation

I. The aridity which comes from God not only has the advantage of making us go forward in virtue, but it also brings us to a higher form of prayer. St. John of the Cross teaches that it is by means of this kind of aridity that God calls souls to a simpler and more profound form of prayer which he terms "initial contemplation." To distinguish this aridity from that which is caused by other things, he gives three signs. The first sign is : "the soul finds no pleasure or consolation in the things of God, it also fails to find pleasure in anything created" (DN I, 9,2). This loss of delight in the things of God may occur, too, when aridity is caused by the soul’s own faults; but then it looks for human satisfactions, whereas in the former case, although it no longer experiences the joy of being with God, it does not return to creatures, but rather, remains firm in its decision to keep its heart detached from them. The second sign is that, in spite of aridity, "the memory is ordinarily centered upon God with painful care and solicitude, fearing that it is not serving God" (ibid., 3). In other words, the soul suffers from its spiritual insensibility, fearing that it does not love God and is not serving Him; and at the same time, it continues to seek Him with the anxiety of one who does not succeed in finding its treasure. The soul remains then always occupied with God, although in a negative, painful way, as if suffering because of the absence of a loved one. On the contrary, when the aridity is culpable, especially ifit is caused by a state of habitual lukewarmness, the soul is not at all grieved about not loving God; it has become indifferent. The last sign consists in the fact that "the soul can no longer meditate or reflect in the imaginative sphere of sense as it was wont, however much it may of itself endeavor to do so" (ibid., 8). The soul would like to meditate; it applies itself, tries as hard as possible, and still does not succeed. When this state continues—for ifit lasted only a short time it might have arisen from special conditions, either physical or moral— although it may have days of greater or less intensity, it tends to invade the whole soul in such a way as to make meditation habitually impossible. This aridity then means a call from God to more profound prayer.

II. By plunging the soul into aridity, God wishes to elevate it, to make it pass from a too human and low way of treating with Him, to a higher and more supernatural way. In meditation the soul went to God through intellectual effort—-an excellent method, but one that is necessarily limited and inadequate in bringing us to know God who, being infinite, immensely exceeds the capacity of our mind. Now when God puts aridity into the soul, He makes meditation impossible for her, and forces her, so to speak, to go to Him by another way.

According to St. John of the Cross, this road is the way ofinitial contemplation, which consists in the soul’s beginning to know God, no longer through the intellect alone, but by means of the experience of love. This experience will not give the soul any new ideas about God, but it will give the "sense" of His greatness. In fact, we have already seen that it is precisely in the midst of aridity that the torturing pain of no longer loving Our Lord, of not feeling this love any longer, is born in the soul. This feeling would not exist if the soul had not acquired a profound sense of the greatness of God and of His worthiness to be loved. This realization is not the result of any reasoning on the part of the soul, but of its experience of love. In fact, although unaware of it, the soul now loves God much more than previously; the best proof of this is that great anxiety which torments it with the fear of not loving Him. See, then, that it is precisely through this painful experience of love, which consists in the preoccupation about not loving and serving its God, that there is born in the soul contemplative knowledge, that is, the "sense" ofGod. We speak here of a knowledge which for the moment brings no comfort to the soul, but which nevertheless is most precious because, far better than any meditation, it infuses into the soul the "sense" of the divinity and fills it more and more with love for this God, whose infinite lovableness it now perceives by intuition. These advantages are so precious that, in order to obtain them, the soul not only ought to accept courageously the aridity which God sends, but also should recognize in it one of the greatest benefits He can bestow.

Colloquy

"O Jesus, how burdensome and bitter is life when You hide Yourself from our love! What are You doing, my Friend? Do You not see my anguish and the weight which is crushing me? Where are You? Why do You not come to console me, since I have no friend but You?

"But if it pleases You to leave me in this state, help me to accept it for love of You. Make me love You enough to suffer for You whatever You choose—sorrow, aridity, anguish, or even, seeming coldness of heart. Ah! that is indeed a great love, to love You without feeling the sweetness of Your love.

"Many serve You, O Jesus, when You console them; but few are willing to keep You company when You sleep on the raging waters or suffer in the garden of agony. Who, then, will serve You for Yourself? Oh! grant that it may be I!

"The Gospel tells me, O divine Shepherd, that You leave thefaithful sheep in the desert. What deep things that tells me!... You are sure of them, they cannot go astray now, for they are love’s captives; so You deprive them of Your visible presence to bring Your consolations to sinners; or even if You do meet them upon Mt. Thabor, it is only for a few moments. O Lord, do with me as You please. And if You seem to forget me, very well. You are free to, since I am no longer mine but Yours... You will sooner weary of keeping me waiting than I of waiting for You" (cf. T.C.J. L, 32,73,144,121,81).

I ask only one thing, my God : in this aridity let my love increase, and grant that I may remain faithful to You at all cost. May I love You more by the reality of deeds as my love becomes less sensible. Grant that the less joy my love gives to me, the more glory it may give to You. And if, in order to increase in love, I need to suffer, blessed be this trial; since You strike me to teach me, You mortify me to cure me and to lead me to a higher life.