Walk in the Night and do not worry, God is with us

 
It took me about 6 months, but finally did I have the honour of completing the book "Dark Night of the Soul" by St. John of the Cross. a book for those who wish to tread on the path to God, instructing and reminding of what in the words of the saint, will definitely happen to those eager for union with the Beloved. That being the night of the sense and the night of the soul, called the night, that it is a passive purgation of sin, like the child who was used to the milk of their mother's breast, being put down that they might learn to walk alone. Called nights for the light of illumination is so powerful, that it blinds, like the staring at the sun.  Called the night, for it illuminates the soul so greatly, that the darkness within the heart is shown, for the few to the very root of their sin, that it might be plucked by the contemplation and hiding in the garments of faith, hope and charity, that one would ascend the ladder to God, through God, by God, who illuminates the will (desire to love) and the understanding (knowledge).

I would like to share one passage from the book that was not consistent to how the rest of book is written, but has profound advice:

"Therefore, O spiritual soul, when thou seest thy desire obscured, thy affections arid and constrained, and thy faculties bereft of their capacity for any interior exercise, be not afflicted by this, but rather consider it a great happiness, since God is freeing thee from thyself and taking the matter from thy hands. For with those hands, howsoever well they may serve thee, thou wouldst never labour so effectively, so perfectly and so securely (because of their clumsiness and uncleanness) as now, when God takes thy hand and guides thee in the darkness, as though thou wert blind, to an end and by a way which thou knowest not. Nor couldst thou ever hope to travel with the aid of thine own eyes and feet, howsoever good thou be as a walker."

Source

The beginners imperfection in the habit of Pride

I wanted to share this astounding passage from "Dark Night of the Soul" by St. John of the Cross, as it regards to Pride that befalls the beginner on the path to God, this point among 8 others really blew me away:

"5. Some of these beginners, too, make little of their faults, and at other times become over-sad when they see themselves fall into them, thinking themselves to have been saints already; and thus they become angry and impatient with themselves, which is another imperfection. Often they beseech God, with great yearnings, that He will take from them their imperfections and faults, but they do this that they may find themselves at peace, and may not be troubled by them, rather than for God’s sake; not realizing that, if He should take their imperfections from them, they would probably become prouder and more presumptuous still. They dislike praising others and love to be praised themselves; sometimes they seek out such praise. Herein they are like the foolish virgins, who, when their lamps could not be lit, sought oil from others.1"

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1- St. Matthew xxv, 8. [Lit., ‘who, having their lamps dead, sought oil from without.’]

St. John of the Cross and the Dark Night

The following is a beautiful poem I read in the beginning of a book titled "Dark Night of the Soul" by St. John of the Cross (Which I bought for 1p from Amazon). In fact, the whole book is mostly commentary on the first 2 stanzas in this poem:

STANZAS OF THE SOUL

1. On a dark night, Kindled in love with yearnings—oh, happy chance!—
I went forth without being observed, My house being now at rest.

2. In darkness and secure, By the secret ladder, disguised—oh, happy chance!—
In darkness and in concealment, My house being now at rest.

3. In the happy night, In secret, when none saw me,
Nor I beheld aught, Without light or guide, save that which burned in my heart.

4. This light guided me More surely than the light of noonday
To the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me— A place where none appeared.

5. Oh, night that guided me, Oh, night more lovely than the dawn,
Oh, night that joined Beloved with lover, Lover transformed in the Beloved!

6. Upon my flowery breast, Kept wholly for himself alone,
There he stayed sleeping, and I caressed him, And the fanning of the cedars made a breeze.

7. The breeze blew from the turret As I parted his locks;
With his gentle hand he wounded my neck And caused all my senses to be suspended.

8. I remained, lost in oblivion; My face I reclined on the Beloved.
All ceased and I abandoned myself, Leaving my cares forgotten among the lilies.