Lectio
“Stay there as long as you can, crying out to God over and over again, because you love God. It’s the closest you can get to God here on earth, by waiting in this darkness and in this cloud. Work at this diligently, as I’ve asked you to, and I know God’s mercy will lead you there.”
— Anonymous, The Cloud of Unknowing
Meditatio
This life can often feel like a mystery. It can be confusing, frustrating, and tragic. For all of the beauty and joy in the world, it seems as though there is just as much, or more, brokenness and hatred. Experiences of graced connection are coupled with experiences of what feels like forsakenness and unrequited longing.
And yet, we are called to face all of this with hope, faith, and love. But this is not easy. Even Jesus, who never wavered from his perfect yes to God, who never said no to hope, to faith, or to love, even Jesus struggled with confusion, frustration, and tragedy. Even Jesus, who never turned away from God, felt God’s absence — wandering and wounded as we are, wondering as we do, crying out from the same exile, with us and for us.
How exactly, in the face of all of this pain and suffering, and what so often feels like meaningless violence, hatred, and cruelty, how exactly are we supposed to maintain hope? How are we supposed to remain faithful? How are we supposed to continue to love? How, in the moments when we feel lost, confused, and overwhelmed by what seems like emptiness and absence, how can we go on?
Cry out to the Lord, Scripture says — and he will hear us, for he is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit (Psalm 34:18). He heals what is broken in us, binding up our wounds (Psalm 147:3). He draws close and asks us directly, what do you want me to do for you? (Mark 10:51). And to those of us who are weary, who are so very tired, he offers not an explanation, but an invitation to rest — come to me, he says, all you who are weary and carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28).
And so we are called to be still. We are called to sit, to sit in the darkness, to sit in the pain and confusion that we cannot think, will, or explain our way out of. We are called to accept ourt powerlessness, to surrender to what we cannot change or understand or fix. And in exactly these moments — when God feels most absent, most silent, most far away — we discover that we need him most, and that, mysteriously and wondrously, he is most present. This is the contemplative invitation of The Cloud of Unknowing: to remain in the darkness as long as necessary, crying out to the one we love, trusting that the distance we feel is not the final word.
Oratio
Heaven
why must we wait
for you
divine union
why must we wait
for you
wandering and wounded
wondering
am I alone
joy laced with suffering
pleasure laced with pain
clarity laced with confusion
I long for awakening
I long for eternity
I long for love
but I’m so very tired
so very
very tired
wake me up Lord
to your presence
wake me up to your face
make me wait no longer
I’m begging for release
from this exile
from you
Contemplatio
The Cloud of Unknowing invites us to remain in the darkness as long as necessary. What is it that makes you want to leave — and what might God be doing in you precisely there?
Related Scripture
“Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice! Let your ears be attentive to the voice of my supplications!” — Psalm 130:1–2 (NRSVCE)
For Further Reading
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like Through The Eyes Of Christ: From Blindness To Sight, which meditates on the same Bartimaeus encounter — the cry of the wandering soul and the Lord who draws close to ask, “What do you want me to do for you?”
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.
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