An Irishman taught me about the Spanish mystic, Saint John of the Cross, and I can’t imagine a better teacher. I learned from Irish Dominican Professor, Father Paul Murray, a poet, writer, and professor. He taught all about Saint John, with special attention to his poetry and specifically his poem, The Dark Night of the Soul.
The saint was born on June 24, 1542, to a poor family in Avila, Spain. In his early twenties he entered the Carmelite monastery in his hometown, the same town where he would meet his good friend, Saint Teresa of Avila, and later become the confessor and vicar of the monastery where she became the prioress. Both were reformers and both would become Doctors of the Church, passionate about the slow but essential work of purifying one’s soul and striving for Christian perfection.
A Hard Confession
A few years ago I was in Confession, confessing my struggle to forgive and have mercy (a common theme for me). After the priest had listened to my sins, he gently quoted Saint John of the Cross to me:
“Where there is no love, put love, and you will draw out love.”
I left with my soul clean, but my head confused.
What did this mean? Did it really mean that I could draw love out of a place where there is no love, simply by the love I put there myself? Did that then mean that I would have to be the source of the love I was seeking? And if so, how does that make sense, and how is that comforting?
Getting Context
This quotation was found in one of his letters to a prioress in Spain. Saint John had spoken against attempts that were being made to change Saint Teresa of Avila’s constitutions. This in turn left him without an office. While he accepted this, others became very frustrated, one of whom was a prioress living in Segovia. He wrote to the prioress, saying:
“Do not let what is happening to me, daughter, cause you any grief, for it does not cause me any. What greatly grieves me is that the one who is not at fault is blamed. Men do not do these things, but God, who knows what is suitable for us and arranges things for our good. Think nothing else but that God ordains all, and where there is no love, put love, and you will draw out love.”
These written words came from a man who was imprisoned by the Carmelites in his own monastery in Toledo. After he worked to bring positive reform to the order, they kidnapped him and kept him in a tiny cell for nine months, barely big enough to lie down in. He had a meager diet of bread and water and was lashed in front of his community weekly. This man, who was not at fault, trusted that what was done to him, however unjust, was done for his good.
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Love Permeating Through Redemptive Suffering
So going back to the words, “[W]here there is no love, put love, and you will draw out love,” what are we to make of this?
I asked a priest friend of mine about these words, and he agreed that it is a confusing statement. Yet he said that it sounds like Saint John is offering his wisdom on how we are to engage the world, especially in times of suffering. For example, when we encounter pain and suffering in the world, we have an opportunity to love in the same way that Jesus did as He suffered for us on the Cross. Through uniting our suffering with Christ’s, and through the mystery of redemptive suffering, love will pervade.
With this I can answer my earlier question of whether or not I had to be the source of love that I was seeking. And the answer is no. No matter how much I try, I can’t possibly be the source of my own love and comfort, because all love comes from Him.
“Beloved, let us love one another, because love is of God; everyone who loves is begotten by God and knows God. Whoever is without love does not know God, for God is love . . . if we love one another, God remains in us, and his love is brought to perfection in us” (1 John 4: 7-8, 12).
I live because He lives in me. I love, because His love is within me.
“I have been crucified with Christ; yet I live, no longer I, but Christ lives in me; insofar as I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God who has loved me and given himself up for me” (Galatians 2:19-20).
Love Is Not A Feeling
What these scriptures remind me of is that love is not a feeling. As hard as it might be to love in a trying circumstance, I don’t have to feel the warm fuzzy feeling of love while I am choosing to offer it to God. I might not even be promised that the gift of my love will be appreciated or reciprocated. But in the selfless act of putting love where there is none, Jesus will fill in the gap with Himself. If we die to self and invite the Lord to love in us and with us, He will be there when we don’t feel strong or courageous enough to do it on our own. When we invite Him into our hard circumstances, His love will pervade, and through His grace, love can then be drawn out.
Susanna Parent est une contributrice régulière du blog BIS et une rédactrice indépendante. Alors qu'elle est originaire du Wisconsin, elle commence maintenant ses matinées à préparer du café de presse française dans la maison qu'elle partage avec son mari et ses enfants dans les villes jumelles. Lorsque le soleil se couche, vous la trouverez avec des amis en train de déguster un verre de vin rouge, de préférence à l'extérieur sous des lumières scintillantes. Lorsqu'elle n'explore pas tout ce que les villes jumelles ont à offrir, elle se laisse aller à son esprit de voyage en réfléchissant à la prochaine nouvelle aventure de leur famille. Vous pouvez en savoir plus sur elle ici . Lisez tous les messages de Susanna ici .
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