Now, you ask, if then these thoughts are not only good in themselves but may also be used to good advantage why must they be abandoned beneath a cloud of forgetting? To answer this will require some explanation. Let me begin by saying that in the Church there are two kinds of life, the active and the contemplative. The active life is lower, and the contemplative life is higher. Within the active life there are two degrees, a lower and a higher, and within the contemplative life there are also two degrees, a lower and a higher. But these two lives are so complementary that although they are quite different from one another, neither can exist completely independent of the other. For the higher degree of the active life flows into the lower degree of the contemplative life so that, no matter how active a person may be, he is also at the same time partially contemplative; and when he is as fully contemplative as he can be in this life, he remains to some extent active also.
The active life is such that it begins and ends on earth. The contemplative life, however, may indeed begin on earth but it will continue without end into eternity. This is because the contemplative life is Mary’s part which shall never be taken away. The active life is troubled and busy about many things but the contemplative life sits in peace with the one thing necessary.1
In the lower degree of the active life a person does well to busy himself with good deeds and the works of mercy. In the higher degree of the active life (which merges with the lower degree of the contemplative life) he begins to meditate on the things of the spirit. This is when he ought to ponder with sorrow the sinfulness of man so as to enter into the Passion of Christ and the sufferings of his saints with pity and compassion. It is a time when one grows in appreciation of God’s kindness and his gifts, and begins to praise and thank him for the wonderful ways he works in all his creation. But in the higher degree of contemplation—such as we know it in this life—all is darkness and a cloud of unknowing. Here one turns to God with a burning desire for himself alone and rests in the blind awareness of his naked being.2
The activities of the lower degree of the active life in themselves leave much of man’s natural human potential untapped. At this stage he lives, as it were, outside himself or beneath himself. As he advances to the higher degree of the active life (which merges with the lower degree of the contemplative life) he becomes increasingly interior, living more from the depths of himself and becoming, therefore, more fully human. But in the higher degree of the contemplative life, he transcends himself because he achieves by grace what is beyond him by nature. For now he is bound to God spiritually in a communion of love and desire.3 Experience teaches that it is necessary to set aside for a time the works of the lower degree of the active life in order to go on to the higher degree of the active life, which, as we said, flows into the lower degree of the contemplative life. In the same way, there comes a time when it is necessary to set aside these works also in order to go on to the higher degree of the contemplative life. And as it is wrong for a person who sits in meditation to be thinking about the things he has done or will do regardless how good and worthwhile they may be in themselves, likewise it is wrong for a person who ought to be busy with the contemplative work in the darkness of the cloud of unknowing to let ideas about God, his wonderful gifts, his kindness, or his works distract him from attentiveness to God himself. It is beside the point to say that they are good thoughts full of comfort and delight. They have no place here!4
This is why I urge you to dismiss every clever or subtle thought no matter how holy or valuable. Cover it over with a thick cloud of forgetting because in this life only love can touch God as he is in himself, never knowledge.5 As long as we live in these mortal bodies the keenness of our intellect remains dulled by material limitations whenever it deals with spiritual realities and most especially God. Our reasoning, therefore, is never pure thought and without the assistance of divine mercy it would lead us deep into error.
CHAPTER 9
That the most sublime thoughts are more hindrance than help during the time of contemplative prayer.
So then, you must reject all clear conceptualizations whenever they arise, as they inevitably will, during the blind work of contemplative love. If you do not conquer them they will surely conquer you. For when you most desire to be alone with God, they will slip into your mind with such stealth that only constant vigilance will detect them. Be sure that if you are occupied with something less than God, you place it above you for the time being and create a barrier between yourself and God. Therefore, firmly reject all clear ideas however pious or delightful. For I tell you this, one loving blind desire for God alone is more valuable in itself, more pleasing to God and to the saints, more beneficial to your own growth, and more helpful to your friends, both living and dead, than anything else you could do.1 And you are more blessed to experience the interior affection of this love within the darkness of the cloud of unknowing than to contemplate the angels and saints or to hear the mirth and melody of their heavenly festival.
Does this surprise you? That is only because you have not experienced it for yourself. For when you do, as I certainly believe you will with God’s grace, you will understand. Of course, it is impossible in this life to see and possess God fully but, with his grace and in his own time, it is possible to taste something of him as he is in himself. And so with great longing for him enter into this cloud. Or rather, I should say, let God awaken your longing and draw you to himself in this cloud while you strive with the help of his grace to forget everything else.2
Remember, if the clear ideas which you reject can annoy and distract you from the Lord and prevent you from experiencing his love, how much more those which you willfully cultivate. And if the thought of a particular saint or some purely spiritual reality creates an obstacle to this work, how much more the thought of mortal man or some material or worldly concern. I do not say that these thoughts, either deliberate or indeliberate, are evil in themselves. God forbid that you should misunderstand me. No, what I have stressed is that they are more hindrance than help.3 For surely if you are seeking God alone, you will never rest contented with anything less than God.
CHAPTER 10
How a man shall know when his thoughts are sinful; of the difference between mortal and venial sins.
Thoughts about mortal men and material or worldly things are another matter. It will happen that unlawful thoughts regarding them will spring suddenly into your mind without your consent. There is no sin in this, for it is not your fault but happens as the result of original sin. Although you were cleansed of original sin in baptism, you remain burdened with its consequences. Just the same you are obliged to reject these thoughts at once, for your human nature is weak and if you do not, you may find yourself stirred to love or hatred, depending on the associations they conjure up. If it is a pleasurable thought or recalls some past pleasure, you may find yourself consenting to the delight of it; if it is a painful thought or recalls some painful memory, you may yield to anger. Consent like this is a deadly sin for one who is already in a state of deadly sin by reason of a fundamental choice against the good. But for you or for anyone who has sincerely renounced the world, it is only venial sin. In choosing your present way of life you made a radical commitment to God and this remains despite a temporary lapse. Your full consent is lacking and so for you it is a lesser sin. Nevertheless, if you allow your thoughts to go unchecked to the point where you willingly dwell on them with full consent, then you do commit a deadly sin. For it is a deadly sin when, with full understanding and consent, you dwell on the thought of any person or thing which stirs your heart to one of the seven deadly sins.
If you brood over an injury, past or present, you will soon feel the painful desire and thirst for revenge. This is the sin of Anger. Or should you conceive an evil disdain for another and the kind of hatred for him full of spite and rash judgment, you have fallen into Envy. If you yield to a feeling of weariness and boredom for good works, it is called Sloth. If the thought which comes to you (or wh
ich you invite) is full of human conceit regarding your honor, your intelligence, your gifts of grace, your status, talents, or beauty and, if you willingly rest in it with delight, it is the sin of Pride. If it is a thought of some material thing, that is, of wealth or property or other earthly goods that people strive to possess and call their own and, if you dwell on it with desire, it is the sin of Covetousness. If you yield to inordinate desire for delicacies of food or drink or for any of the delights of taste, it is called Gluttony. And finally, illicit desire for carnal indulgence or for the favor and flattery of others is called Lust.
If your vagrant thoughts recall any pleasure, past or present, and if you rest in it letting it take root in your heart and feed your carnal desire, you are in danger of being overwhelmed by the delight of passion. Soon you will think that you possess all you could ever want and that this pleasure will satisfy you perfectly.
CHAPTER 11
That a man should strictly appraise his thoughts and inclinations and avoid a careless attitude about venial sin.
I do not say all this because I am worried that you or any other person of prayer is actually burdened with the guilt of sins like these. My purpose is to impress on you the importance of weighing your thoughts and desires as they arise, for you must learn to reject the least of them that might lead you to sin. I warn you that a person who fails in vigilance and control of his thoughts, even though they are not sinful in their first movements, will eventually grow careless about small sins. It is impossible to avoid all faults and failings in this life but carelessness about deliberate small sins is intolerable to the true seeker of perfection. For usually negligence about slight sins opens the door to the likelihood of deadly sin.
CHAPTER 12
That in contemplation sin is destroyed and every kind of goodness is nourished.
And so to stand firmly and avoid pitfalls, keep to the path you are on. Let your longing relentlessly beat upon the cloud of unknowing that lies between you and your God. Pierce that cloud with the keen shaft of your love, spurn the thought of anything less than God, and do not give up this work for anything. For the contemplative work of love by itself will eventually heal you of all the roots of sin.1 Fast as much as you like, watch far into the night, rise long before dawn, discipline your body, and if it were permitted—which it is not—put out your eyes, tear out your tongue, plug up your ears and nose, and cut off your limbs; yes, chastise your body with every discipline and you would still gain nothing. The desire and tendency toward sin would remain in your heart.
What is more, if you wept in constant sorrow for your sins and Christ’s Passion and pondered unceasingly on the joys of heaven, do you think it would do you any good? Much good, I am sure. You would profit no doubt and grow in grace but in comparison with the blind stirring of love, all this is very little. For the contemplative work of love is the best part, belonging to Mary. It is perfectly complete by itself while all these disciplines and exercises are of little value without it.
The work of love not only heals the roots of sin, but nurtures practical goodness. When it is authentic you will be sensitive to every need and respond with a generosity unspoiled by selfish intent. Anything you attempt to do without this love will certainly be imperfect, for it is sure to be marred by ulterior motives.
Genuine goodness is a matter of habitually acting and responding appropriately in each situation, as it arises, moved always by the desire to please God.2 He alone is the pure source of all goodness and if a person is motivated by something else besides God, even though God is first, then his virtue is imperfect. This is evident in the case of two virtues in particular, humility and brotherly love. Whoever acquires these habits of mind and manner needs no others, for he will possess everything.3
CHAPTER 13
Of the nature of humility; when it is perfect and when it is imperfect.
Let us then consider the virtue of humility so that you will understand why it is perfect when God alone is its source and why it is imperfect when it arises from any other source even though God might be the principal one. But first I will try to explain what humility is in itself and then the difference will be easier to grasp.
A man is humble when he stands in the truth with a knowledge and appreciation for himself as he really is. And actually, anyone who saw and experienced himself as he really and truly is would have no difficulty being humble, for two things would become very clear to him. In the first place, he would see clearly the degradation, misery, and weakness of the human condition resulting from original sin. From these effects of original sin man will never be entirely free in this life, no matter how holy he becomes. In the second place, he would recognize the transcendent goodness of God as he is in himself and his overflowing, superabundant love for man. Before such goodness and love nature trembles, sages stammer like fools, and the saints and angels are blinded with glory. So overwhelming is this revelation of God’s nature that if his power did not sustain them, I dare not think what might happen.
The humility engendered by this experiential knowledge of God’s goodness and love I call perfect, because it is an attitude which man will retain even in eternity. But the humility arising from a realistic grasp of the human condition I call imperfect, for not only will it pass away at death with its cause but even in this life it will not always be operative. For sometimes people well advanced in the contemplative life will receive such grace from God that they will be suddenly and completely taken out of themselves and neither remember nor care whether they are holy or sinful. Proficient contemplatives may experience this more or less frequently according to God’s wisdom, but in any case it is, I believe, a passing phenomenon. During such a time, however, though they may lose all concern for their sinfulness or virtue, they do not lose the sense of God’s immense love and goodness and therefore, they have perfect humility. On the other hand, when the first motive is operative, even in a secondary way, they have only imperfect humility. Nevertheless, I am not suggesting that the first motive be abandoned. God forbid that you should misunderstand me, for I am convinced that it is both profitable and necessary in this life.
CHAPTER 14
That in this life imperfect humility must precede perfect humility.
Although I speak of imperfect humility it is not because I place little value on true self-knowledge. Should all the saints and angels of heaven join with all the members of the Church on earth, both religious and lay, at every degree of Christian holiness and pray for my growth in humility, I am certain that it would not profit me as much nor bring me to the perfection of this virtue as quickly as a little self-knowledge. Indeed, it is altogether impossible to arrive at perfect humility without it.
And therefore, do not shrink from the sweat and toil involved in gaining real self-knowledge, for I am sure that when you have acquired it you will very soon come to an experiential knowledge of God’s goodness and love. Not a complete knowledge, of course, for that is not possible to man; not even as complete as what you will possess in the joy of eternity but certainly as complete a knowledge as is possible to man in this life.
My purpose in explaining the two kinds of humility is not to set you in pursuit of the perfect while neglecting the imperfect. No, and I trust you will never do this. My intention is simply to help you appreciate the exalted dignity of the contemplative work of love, in comparison to any other possible with grace. For the secret love of a pure heart pressing upon that dark cloud of unknowing between you and your God in a hidden yet certain way includes in itself perfect humility without the help of particular or clear ideas.1 Also I wanted you to appreciate the excellence of perfect humility so that you might keep it before your heart as a spur to your love. This is important for both of us. And finally, I have troubled to explain all this because I believe that just knowing about perfect humility will in itself make you more humble. For I often think that ignorance of humility’s two degrees occasions a good deal of pride. It is just possible that a little taste of what I hav
e called imperfect humility might lead you to believe that you were already perfectly humble. But you would be badly deceived and, what is more, have actually fallen into the foul mire of conceit. And so, be diligent in striving for this virtue in all its perfection. When a person experiences it, he will not sin, then nor long afterward.
CHAPTER 15
A proof that those who think the most perfect motive for humility is the realization of man’s wretchedness are in error.
Believe me when I say that there is such a thing as perfect humility and that with God’s grace it can be yours in this life. I insist on this because some are erroneously teaching that there is no greater humility than that occasioned by the thought of the unhappy human condition and the memory of one’s sinful past.
I willingly concede that for those who are accustomed to habitual sin (as I myself have been) this is very true. And until the great rust of deadly sin is rubbed away in the Sacrament of Penance, nothing is more necessary and valuable in teaching humility than the thought of our miserable state and our former sins. But this attitude is not authentic for those who have never sinned grievously, with full knowledge and consent. They are like innocent children having only fallen through frailty and ignorance. Yet even these innocents, especially if they have set out on the way of contemplative prayer, have reason to be humble. We too, after having made proper satisfaction and amendment for our sins in confession and having moreover felt drawn by grace to contemplative prayer, shall certainly still have reason to be humble. Something far transcending the imperfect motive I mentioned earlier will keep us humble. For God’s goodness and love is a reason as far above self-knowledge as our Lady’s life is above the life of the most sinful penitent in Holy Church; or the life of Christ is above that of any other human being; or the life of an angel who cannot experience human weakness is above the life of the weakest man on earth.
The Cloud of Unknowing Page 6
