Lectio
“In time of desolation never to make a change; but to be firm and constant in the resolutions and determination in which one was the day preceding such desolation, or in the determination in which he was in the preceding consolation.”
— St. Ignatius of Loyola, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius
Meditatio
There will be times in our spiritual journey that will feel like darkness. They will feel like we are lost or alone, or even as though we have been abandoned by God’s presence. In these times of spiritual desolation, St. Ignatius of Loyola warns that we should resist the temptation to change our course. We should remain steadfast and keep walking with and toward the Lord, even if we cannot see or feel Him. Of course, if there is some known reason, some sinful behavior on our part that has led us into this darkness, we should repent, confess, and, with the help of Christ, cease our sinning. This is not the kind of desolation St. Ignatius is referring to, however. He means the kind of desolation for which there is no known cause, the kind of darkness that has no explanation because we have remained faithful and are, to the best of our ability, without blame.
St. John of the Cross describes something related, though deeper still, when he speaks of the dark night of the soul. In the dark night, God is not asking us to change our behavior, but rather to change our minds — to change the way we think about Him and our relationship to Him, and in so doing to deepen our faith. That, through this darkness, through His felt absence, we learn to walk in the pure faith of trusting Him even when we cannot feel or see Him. As Jesus said to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”
In this way, we learn to trust that our seasons of desolation are actually a blessing, that they are an opportunity to believe in spite of what we cannot see, to trust in spite of what we cannot feel. Through these dark nights, God weans us off of our immature faith that clings to His garment like a child clings to his mother, and invites us to step out into the unknown with the faith of someone who knows he is loved and cared for and protected, even in the valley of the shadow of death.
And so, as St. Ignatius teaches, a season of desolation is not a time for change, but a time for stability. It is a time for trust, for perseverance in faith, and a time for resting in the Lord’s love, even though it seems to be mysteriously, and even frustratingly, absent because through our continued walk we will find that it was the Lord leading us the whole while. In the darkness, our faith becomes a kind of Sabbath, within which our stillness in spite of feeling as though we are forsaken becomes, itself, a form of worship — a sacrifice on the altar of uncertainty.
Oratio
Oratio
An Oasis
a desert
unto myself
vast and arid
uninhabitable
devoid of hope
or direction
awaiting a sign
an oasis
the water of life
for my parched tongue
only You
can lead me home
Contemplatio
You do not have to feel His presence to trust that He is near. In this dry season, let the ache itself become a form of prayer — a reaching that needs no answer to be real. Rest here a while longer, offering no resistance to His presence, and let Him do with you what only He can do.
Related Scripture
“Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the voice of his servant, who walks in darkness and has no light, yet trusts in the name of the LORD and relies upon his God?”
For Further Reading
If you enjoyed this post, you may also like To Simply Be: Evelyn Underhill and the Sabbath Beneath Our Striving, which meets a different kind of stillness — not the desolation that asks us to stay, but the striving we’re invited to lay down — and finds that both lead to the same rest in Him.
Robert Van Valkenburgh
Grappling With Divinity.
Wrestling With God.
Returning To Love.
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