Our Father John

When the now St John Henry Newman was about to be beatified, I remember listening to the plans the Oratorians in Birmingham had for his tomb and shrine. It came as a dreadful shock when they opened the grave and discovered that the body had almost completely disappeared; being so fail at the time of his death, it had disintegrated in the damp soil. It was sad, because if ever a saint needed a tomb, a place for the faithful to come and encounter him, it was Newman. Yes, they could know him through his writings, but for those who find them complicated and off-putting, John Henry, the gentle pastor, could have been offered to them as they knelt at his relics and asked his intercession.

Why do I speak about St John Henry Newman on, what is for us in Carmel, the Solemnity of St John of the Cross? For many, John too is seen as a great theologian and mystic and also a fearful figure in some respects. I have encountered many, religious and priests foremost among them, who dare not approach St John; for them he is the epitome of the Dark Night, and so best avoided. And yet, when you get to know John, serious as he could be, you discover a most gentle and lovable soul. St Teresa, our Mother, when she tried to convince him not to leave the Order but to work with her in the reform, was not merely thinking of his mind and abilities, she saw a man of extraordinary goodness, sensitivity and kindness, qualities that could only enrich the development of her reform. That is John.

When people come to John, they usually do so by reading either The Dark Night of the Soul or The Ascent of Mount Carmel - I did it myself, and that is a mistake. When I introduce John to people, I recommend they read The Spiritual Canticle first, but in small bites, alternated with some of his poems. However, it might also be good to read his life story first, to encounter the man before his works so the difficulty of (some of) the works don't terrify the cautious soul.

John had a difficult life, yet he embraced it with a confidence and joy that was not only immersed in Christ, but learned from his parents. His parents,Catalina and Gonzalo, were a love match. However, Catalina was not considered good enough for Gonzalo because he came from a notable and wealthy family. Love could not be denied, so Gonzalo renounced everything to marry her. Their marriage was truly Christian, one where their three boys grew up witnessing a father and mother deeply in love with each other. They also witnessed grief as Gonzalo died young and Catalina had to care for their children alone. Love and sacrifice were engraved in John's heart right from the beginning, and such was his faith, taught by his parents, he did not fall into bitterness, but rather he knew that Love himself was always present and so all hardships could be endured. That is the beginning of the mystical life.

As he grew older, he had to help provide for his family. He was also discerning religious life and in time saw that the contemplative life of Carmel was where God wanted him to be. He went to school, but also worked in a hospital where he encountered the most wretched of situations and sought to bring some comfort to those in great suffering. When he could, he entered Carmel, choosing the name of John of St Matthias. It was an interesting choice of name: Matthias was the one chosen to replace Judas, an replacement apostle who had to bring fidelity and love to a place within the college of apostles which had been marked by betrayal. Matthias still remains in the shadows for many, and so John wanted to enter into the shadows, into the silence of Carmel and the darkness of faith and love in order to serve God and his Church. Sadly, he did not discover the life of authentic Carmel there, it was disintegrating. He knew disappointment and faced an agonising decision to leave in order to be true to the vocation God had given him.

His encounter with St Teresa was providential. He would not only become her spiritual son, but also emerged as the spiritual father of her reform. A great deal of suffering lay ahead for him, but as before he embraced it with serenity - he had chosen 'of the Cross' as his new name, he must have known that the cross would assume a greater place in his life. It is a testament to the man that as he languished in his prison cell, he was composing poetry and his great theological works were being formulated in the lyrics he wrote. As he sought Christ and patience in his cell, St Teresa was at her wits end trying to find out where he was and how to get him back: such was the love he inspired in others.

John's life was one of faithful service - of St Teresa, of the reform and of those to whom he was sent to guide in the spiritual life. He wrote his poems and treatises not to please himself or find a place among the theologians, but rather to help those who asked him to guide them. Following Teresa's death he tried to defend her reform, not from those outside the Discalced, but from within. The persecution of Nicholas Doria, who felt he knew Teresa better than her closest collaborators, saw John imprisoned again in harsh conditions - he would die in captivity before Doria could expel him from the Order. As he was dying surrounded by men who treated him dreadfully in his last days, he asked that someone read from The Song of Songs; he died as those words of Scripture, the song of the Lover and the Beloved, were read over him. No one could deny his holiness, nor the beauty of his soul; even those who were enemies were touched by the goodness of John of the Cross. This is the man we celebrate today.

I remember reading, a few years ago, a piece by one of our friars who said that, while there may be some reason to call St Teresa our Mother, there was no reason to call St John of the Cross our Father. He was not the instigator of the reform; indeed, we were told, this title was nothing more than a custom that we need to dispense with. But John is our father. Madre chose him in the beginning to help her form the souls that would enter what would become Discalced Carmel; he wrote his teaching to guide the members of the Order; he proved himself a true spiritual father to those in his care, and he continues to do so for us in the Order today. Of course it is hard to speak of such a relationship if John seems to be a distant figure; in reality, as I hope I have pointed out in this, he is not distant at all; he is very close, he is lovable.

Perhaps the task we Discalced Carmelites have today - friars, nuns and seculars, is to reveal St John in his fullness so the faithful may no longer fear him, but see a saint who is wholly approachable and who can also guide us to the heights of the spiritual life. 

On that note, I wish my brothers and sisters in Carmel, and all of you, dear friends, a blessed Solemnity. May our father, St John, watch over you, intercede for your needs and guide you on your pilgrim path to God.