Through darkness to light: St. John of the cross's living flame of love

Spiritual Life, Fall 2000 by Farrington, Mary Ann

THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE is the ultimate love poem. Its author, St. John of the Cross, wrote it from the wonderful and awesome perspective of a soul who has finally arrived home, a soul who now at last can rest in the arms of his Beloved. St. John's poem speaks of joy without end, freedom without boundaries, and happiness that continually wells up from the warm and safe springs of the deep Love within him. This poem tells a happy and playful and thrilling story because it is the story of a soul who has searched for its God in the center of its own being and, having found him there, has been made whole and complete.

There is no longer any need to walk the vast deserts or scan the night sky for the first rays of morning's light. The illusive God, who hid his beauty to insure that the journey be continued, is here-as he always was. John's love poem sings of this Presence, and the living flames unite a gentle God with the child he has guided safely to himself. No more longing, no more confusion, no more doubt-only Love is left.

This classic love story embodies all that is pure and good and beautiful about being a child of God. It shows us a soul at the center of its being-totally in peace at its point of origin, fully immersed in the loving flames that give it life and warmth.

When we read this poem of love, however, with all its beauty and peace and magnificence, do we dare embrace its story and make it our own, or do we stay "safely" outside ourselves and look on in admiration and wonder, afraid to cling to the dream and rest in the Reality? Do we reach out for the God of our hearts, longing to lose ourselves in his mercy and strength, only to turn away when he looks at us with tender love? We are made for God. Truly our hearts are restless until they rest in him. The same loving God who drew John of the Cross to himself also softly calls to each of us. We too are invited to journey toward this wondrous God who only asks that we return his love.

Yes, this is the ultimate love poem. It tells of completeness, of bounteous joy, intoxicating love, and total fulfillment. And yet ....

The Flame That Wounds

It was not always so! The Flame of Love, so warm and tender now, was once piercing and relentless. This "sweet cautery" was fearsome to a hard, dry, and unbending will. The cords of sin were tight around the soul that struggled to be free. With David it cried out in its pain, "They circled me like bees, stung me, and burned me like fire among thorns" (A:Bk.I,Ch.7:No.1).1 Fire, always fire! And God, in his mercy and love answered, "Come to the waters all you who experience the thirst of your appetites" (A:Bk.I,Ch.7:No.3). Then, for awhile, the waters calmed the soul not yet ready to embrace the flame.

The flames were not refreshing then, not peaceful and safe as they one day would be. The mountain top was still high and far away. The path to self-knowledge was still hard and long. Where was the soul to go when gradually the familiar was no longer so? What would it do when its intellect failed it, when its very heart was cold and lifeless? Would it take comfort in Peter's words: "Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life" (Jn 6:68), or would it turn away and avoid the tiny flame within itself, the flame that stubbornly refused to burn out?

"O Living Flame of Love that tenderly wounds my soul in its deepest center!" (F:I). How can this be? Surely the words mock the soul who only feels the weight of its heavy burden. At every step, evil is mistaken for good and good for evil (A:Bk.I,Ch.B:No.7). How much easier it is to feel its way along the wall as though blind, to grope as if without eyes. Blindness causes the soul to reach the point where it stumbles along in broad daylight as though walking in the dark (A:Bk.I,Ch.B:No.7). The light of truth is just too bright for the eyes of the still unseeing soul. But God will not leave his precious child alone for long. With patient love, again the call goes out, soft and clear in a whispering caress. This time the soul responds, and the first tiny steps are taken toward the Light. The Mountain becomes a little closer, the Flame a little brighter.

Seasons of the Soul

The journey has just begun. To the happy soul these are "heady" days, and it is buoyed by its newly found confidence. Spring has arrived, and its flowering beauty is matched by the blossoms of love slowly growing deeply within the soul's heart. God smiles on his child, and the days of pain and struggle and confinement are like a distant memory. These days of spring move swiftly along, and the pace on the pathway is quickened. After all, cannot the soul now say "I went out unseen. My house being now all stilled"? Am I not "Fired with love's urgent longings"?

Almost imperceptibly, the days of summer slip quietly in. The sun's rays, so warming and delightful before, begin to be oppressive. No need to worry! Does not the soul have the "faith to move mountains"? (Perhaps the question should be, "Does it see the `real' mountain through the mist?")