The Ascent of Mount Carmel
The Ascent of Mount Carmel is really the first part of what St. John of the Cross intended to be a single work. The second part comes to us as a separate volume, The Dark Night. The two are intended to be read together, beginning with The Ascent, which contains the practical introduction to a life of deeper prayer. Prayer is essential, because the ultimate aim of the spiritual life is union with God—not extraordinary mystical experiences, not works of charity, not promotion of worthy causes, not the conversion of sinners. These all are good things, but none of them is the ultimate aim of the spiritual life. In fact, the desire for them can become an obstacle. Union with God is what we will have in fullness in Heaven. So we should start actively seeking it now, here in this life.
In The Ascent, St. John draws on three principal sources: science, experience, and Sacred Scripture. The science of theology is the first source. Yes, theology is a science, for it meets the definition: it is a system of related theories that have predictive power, based on the observation of phenomena in the world. The observable phenomena are not the movements of atoms or the life cycles of plants but the experiences of human souls in search of God. St. John explains these experiences in light of the theology that the Church has developed over centuries of study. He shows us a path of clarity and order within which we can be safe, even as we progress to the heights.
Much is said about St. John's image of the dark night. This blog will not attempt a detailed analysis of the saint's terminology or theological understanding; other, more qualified authors can help you there, and you will find resources for further study here in the Book Cellar. For now, let's focus on the fact that the night in St. John's imagery is not a time for slumber and comfort. It is a time to rouse ourselves and go out quietly into darkness, to begin a difficult and exciting journey. The night is a metaphor for purification.
In The Ascent, we are guided through the first night, which he calls the night of the sense. This is the stage of spiritual growth in which we must learn to separate ourselves from our desire for created things. Here we have an insight that has completely escaped the post-modern, quasi-Christian mysticism found generally under the heading of "centering prayer:" if you want a deeper relationship with God, you must reform yourself. Stop tolerating sensuality in your life; turn away from sin; get yourself to Confession; pursue virtue. Instead of meditating on inner emptiness, meditate on the Ten Commandments. All the centering in the world will only lead you to a dead end, or worse, unless you focus on the moral teachings of the Church.
Along with moral reform, we must identify attachments to things. Our loves are many and varied. A person can say, “I love my children,” “I love my fiancé,” “I love my country,” “I love Dvorak,” “I love the Chicago Cubs,” “I love potato chips,” and all these declarations of love make sense. St. John of the Cross describes all such attractions as "appetites." AMC III.16.1. Having appetites is unavoidable. By themselves, they do not stop us from growing in holiness. The threat comes when our will and desire remain oriented towards the satisfaction of appetites. St. John calls these "voluntary appetites," the ones that command our volition. We must separate ourselves from movements of the will that serve appetites.
What this means for the beginner is not trying to convince yourself that you don't like these things, but that you stop making them the objects towards which you direct your will. They are just facts about you, like the fact that you are 5 foot 7 and have brown hair and need reading glasses, or whatever those characteristics are. You happen to prefer Dvorak to Bach, and the Cubs to the White Sox, and potato chips to cheese puffs. These are what St. John calls “natural appetites,” and it is impossible to completely mortify them in this life. AMC I.11.2. What you can do is not seek out these things, and not let the denial of these satisfactions sour your mood or poison your charity. It is not the things themselves that hinder your progress, but your attachment to them. So work on breaking the attachment. This is where you must direct your efforts, in the active night of the sense.
Attachments also occur in the spiritual life. We become attached to consolations, to our ideas about God, to devotions, to ministries and causes, and to other things. St. John tells us that these attachments also must go. Here we find one of the central themes in all of his writings: we all tend to follow God through things, through ideas, devotions, causes, hopes, loyalties. These may be good and important, but they are not God. If you follow St. John of the Cross, you must be willing to strip away from your spiritual life all attachments to whatever is not God. This is the the work of the active night of the spirit.
How is this possible? The Ascent of Mount Carmel teaches how. It is hard work. It begins with these active nights, with the person's own efforts. The nights have both active and passive phases, and St. John explains these in detail. With some oversimplification, we can consider the active phase as involving primarily one's own efforts, while in the passive phase, God's grace directly draws the soul into deeper union. This is an oversimplification, because even the soul's own desires for holiness is a product of grace. But the soul undergoing purification will sometimes experience effects and perceive changes that seem to come from outside. You must be willing to allow God access to your deepest self. Then the soul begins to find itself in the passive night.
The passive night of the sense produces a diminishment in the natural appetites. The attachments begin to be purged by God's own action. The Ascent of Mount Carmel focuses more on the active purifications of senses and spirit. Next, St. John of the Cross explains the passive purifications. This is the subject of The Dark Night.
