This light guided me
More surely than the light of noonday
To the place where he (well I knew who!) was awaiting me–
A place where none appeared. (St John of the Cross)
There is a condition I have encountered with some people who have experienced the promise of spiritual gifts, who have tasted of the grace of Christ and felt His love intimately. Spiritual gifts and light have been poured out generously to them, but, the spiritual outpouring has tapered off over time and the promise of a close relationship with Christ seems to have waned. What happened? A person might feel to cry out, “Where are you, Lord?”
A typical evolution in spiritual growth goes something like this, at least according to my own experience: A person kind of stumbles along through life until he begins to believe that there is something more. More than what he or she is spoon fed in Sunday school, more than work, and school, and houses, and money and even family. Because of a feeling of lack, or the idea that something is missing and there has to be more, there arises the need to search for real meaning. A person may encounter an eternal truth that he or she had never thought of before, but the recognition is strong, even emotional. It may cause a dramatic change in the way a person views the world. A person will dig deeper exploring the scriptures and discover things he had never considered. His prayer life takes on more meaning. In some people this becomes an existential crises, where there is a collapse of what they had assumed was the meaning of life…an eruption into their life of a deep sense of meaninglessness. In some people this can cause a depression, in others it awakens a memory of things forgotten because of the veil placed upon our mind at birth, and raises the exciting possibility that there is more to life and the universe then ever crossed their mind.
Suddenly one day, after months, maybe years of searching and asking, they experience an unexpected but powerful communication from heavenly sources. The Holy Spirit reaches out to them. Maybe the Spirit indicates that they are on the right track. Perhaps they experience a powerful spiritual awakening. They pray one day and ask with all their heart and soul for insight or light and suddenly their whole body feels lifted up and filled with electricity. Maybe a voice is heard, or light seems to pour into their mind while the body feels like bursting with joy. They receive an answer to a question that hey have been praying for some time.
After this, a person starts having spiritual experiences all the time, maybe everyday. They find that when they pray they actually get answers. They become more sensitive to spiritual things and some worldly activities that before they had found comfort in, now hold no interest. They want to seek out the Lord and hold on to those glorious things that the spirit has activated in them.
And then at some point the spirit wanes. They ask the Lord, “Where are You? Why don’t I have the same experiences I had with the spirit anymore.” Where is the light that always seemed to be there? “Why don’t I receive answers to my prayers like I used to,” or if they do, “why does it take so much more effort?” “Why is it getting harder to live virtuously?” They might even begin to slip back into old habits and start doubting some of the spiritual experiences that at one time were so abundant.
I had a conversation with a woman who confided in me that she used to be able to pray to the Lord and get an answer. The Lord talked to her, and she felt very close to God and the spirit. Miraculous things were occurring around her. Spiritual gifts were lavished upon her. She would be working and the thought would come to her to contact someone who needed her help. Things like that. And then suddenly it stopped. She had to struggle to feel the spirit where before it was there all the time. She couldn’t understand it, why do I have to work so much harder to hear the Spirit? She was experiencing some despair. She asked me, “What did I do wrong?” I have to admit that this has happened to me. It is discouraging and soul crushing, and can last for years. I have found that this is a common thing that occurs to people who have been born again, or have lived deeply spiritual lives.
I have seen this phenomenon many times as a missionary as I watched converts to the church, I had been teaching and baptized, struggle with this same issue. The Holy Spirit testified strongly to them of truth as we were teaching. They were infused with joy and excitement with the prospect of being baptized. After they were baptized the light dimmed in them. Most of them stopped going to church, and I was left to wonder, “How and why does the Lord let this happen?” Were they caught up in emotion? Perhaps, but the spirit was present as we taught them and they knew that what we were teaching them was true.
Many who are familiar with Catholic doctrine, or Christian mysticism call this the Dark Night, or the “Dark Night of the Soul”. This concept was first written about and popularized by St. John of the Cross who lived in 16th century Spain. St. John writes about the dark night which is where a person realizes a need to reach out in earnest to God. The dark night is described by him as the gulf that exists between man and an unknowable God. After a person seeks with every fiber of being to gain a relationship with God, He will at some point encounter a condition where their soul becomes stricken and suffers in contemplation of the void that exists between them and God. This state of mind can exist for days, weeks or an extended amount of time, years even. If he continues his pressing to know God he will eventually reach enlightenment and experience an incomprehensible joy in communion with God. The principle that St. John teaches in the search to know God has some points to teach us, Latter Day Saints, about the process of forgiveness and the search for a relationship with The Father and Christ. The difference for us, however, is that we don’t see the Lord as unknowable, only painfully distant from our worldly condition.
The woman who shared her dark night experience with me, which is still ongoing for her, asked me what was going on? She is trying to understand why the Lord had seemed to withdraw from her. Had she sinned? I gave her an explanation that I now think was only a superficial response. I told her that when my Dad was teaching me to ride a bike he would hold on the back of the seat while I peddled. All the time I’m yelling, “Don’t let go!” But after a minute, my Dad let go. I would peddle just fine for a few seconds until I realized he wasn’t holding on, and crash, down I would go. We would try again, Dad holding on and letting go and I would go a little farther and, crash! When I finally figured it all out, man, you couldn’t stop me. I told my friend that I think it is a little bit like that, learning to ride a bike. Kind of trite, I know, but it does get the point across that it is nothing she did, it was just part of the syllabus.
The Lord gives us a taste of what a spiritual life of communion with heaven could be like, instilling in us a desire to want it more then anything else. We experience a tremendous Christ-like love and flashes of intelligence that are filled with light. He allows us to sense the presence of angels, we sense the thoughts of others, we know something is going to happen before it does. The heavens seem to be open and generous in giving us peace and light. And then the Lord pulls back so that we can learn how to strengthen the connection that we now know is possible. It is a perfect teaching event. Sometimes it takes months or years to realize that having a spiritual life takes huge effort. You have to give up things, and you have to focus when the demands of life eat away at our awareness.
The dark night of the soul is experienced because of our receiving abundant gifts of the spirit, and then having the Lord step back a bit to allow us to grow. Sometimes it is a matter of proving that we really want that relationship with the Father and Christ. It means having to sacrifice and give up things to know Him. And when we reconnect, the blessings of having pursued Him through the dark night will be greater than what was withdrawn from us. St. John of the Cross considered God to be unknowable and incomprehensible, but we know He is approachable and eminently knowable.
There is another explanation for the diminishing of a person’s perception of their connection to heaven. Joseph Smith explained that the Holy Spirit has a greater effect on a person who has Gentile blood than it does on someone who has the blood of Israel. “That man that has none of the blood of Abraham (naturally) must have a new creation by the Holy Ghost. In such a case, there may be more of a powerful effect upon the body…than upon an Israelite.” (Teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, p.150) In the case we are addressing, what this means is that as the Holy Ghost is introduced to us it is felt powerfully and dramatically. As we continue to experience communication with Heaven, and our bodies are actually changed, The Holy Ghost doesn’t seem to speak as loudly to us nor as dramatically. As a Gentile experiences the Holy Ghost, his body is actually changed and he becomes an Israelite, and thus the Holy Ghost isn’t felt in as big a contrast from all the other stimulus. The best way I can think about this is how a drug affects the body. At first taking a small amount of a drug effects us strongly. As we continue to take the drug, over time, it may take more of the drug to get the same effect.
Not everyone experiences God like this, but I would bet everyone could name a time when they wondered if God even knew they were alive, and they had to struggle, seemingly alone, with existential questions or life’s quandaries.
I may have told this story before, but it helps to illustrate the situation. A biologist was studying a pair of nesting Ospreys near Bellingham, Washington about 30 years ago. Their nest was high up in a giant cedar tree near the coast. The two parents had a baby that they were carefully nurturing and feeding. One day, after the chick had grown into a young adult, the naturalist noticed the parents disappeared. The fledgling cried and cried, but neither parent answered his distress calls. After a couple days, the naturalist observed the young osprey venture out to the edge of the nest in desperation and spent some time flexing its wings, building courage to step out. Finally, the osprey flung herself out of the nest, spread its wings and began flying. The scientist wrote that all of a sudden the parents appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere, and flew along side the youngster.1 I see a metaphor of the Father’s love for us in this story. He has never left us alone, and by “us” I mean us individually. I don’t know how He does it, but he is aware of all 5 or 6 billion of us on this planet.
It appears, then, that our spiritual powers ebb and flow. Partly this is because it is how we learn and partly because our powers to discern are not constant. We are subject to worldly distractions and unworldly influences that compete with heavenly inputs for our attentions. When it comes down to it, our spiritual journey can be a lonely and daunting prospect. By the end of the journey to obtain a place in God’s family, you will have to experience all things. That is the lesson that God is teaching us.
1 I was told this account by a professor when I was taking graduate science classes at Western Washington University in Bellingham, Washington about the time the Osprey studies were taking place there.