Holiness scares the devil
As we approach the end of St. John of the Cross’ poem, “The Spiritual Canticle,” we find his beautiful description of the condition of the soul that is in union with God. The imagery is lovely and peaceful, as one would expect:
The breathing of the air,
The song of the sweet nightingale
The grove and its beauty
In the serene night
With the flame that consumes but gives no pain.
-Stanza 39
But the final lines reflect a distinct change of tone, away from the serenity of union:
Aminadab did not appear
The siege was broken
and the cavalry dismounted …
-Stanza 40
In his commentary, St. John explains that the mysterious Aminadab represents the devil himself. And the evil one actively avoids the soul that rests in this peaceful place, in union with God. The reason? “There, the soul is so protected, so strong, so triumphant in the virtue that it practices, so defended by God’s right hand, that the devil not only dares not approach it, but runs away from it in great fear.”
This calls to mind one of the traditional titles of St. Joseph: Terror of Demons. St. John of the Cross is telling us here that this admirable office is not reserved only for the foster father of the Lord. It may be held by any of us.
St. John of the Cross was well known for his extraordinary authority over evil spirits. His biographer* relates numerous stories in which demons fled from his presence. In one memorable scene, witnessed by nuns and visitors who happened to be present, a person came to the convent gate, identified himself as St. John, and asked to be admitted to speak to a nun whom the saint was directing. This figure conversed with the nun in the convent parlor and told her things that greatly disturbed her peace, about the impossibility of forgiveness and her utter helplessness in the face of temptation. Meanwhile, the real St. John of the Cross was nearby, and he felt interiorly moved to visit the same nun. The portress initially refused him entrance, thinking he was an impostor. She quickly acknowledged his identity and admitted him, going then to tell other nuns of the strange situation that was developing.
At the moment St. John entered the parlor, the supposed St. John vanished. The saint then forced the demon to reveal the truth behind the stratagem. The nun actually was possessed, after making a pact with Satan earlier in her life. The supposed St. John was a demon sent to discourage her from attempting to free herself. The evil spirit confessed all this as soon as he was commanded, and promptly gave up his connection with the nun.
Of course, only persons authorized by the Church may confront demons in this way. Anyone else who attempts it is in grave danger. But anyone can be a cause of great fear to the powers of darkness by living in union with God. St. John of the Cross teaches us that this is not an ethereal state reserved only for the specially gifted. It is the goal of every soul that is moving towards Heaven.
A distinction is needed here: There is a kind of union, or at least Divine presence, in all of us. “God dwells and is present substantially in every soul, even in that of the greatest sinner in the world… If union of this kind were to fail them, they would at once become annihilated and would cease to be.” Ascent of Mount Carmel, II.5.3. St. John is not concerned with this ever-resent union but rather with what he sometimes refers to as “transforming union.” Ibid. This is a supernatural condition, granted to us by grace, when we are doing the hard work of stripping away attachments, out of love for God.
It is so important to understand that transforming union is not only in some remote future or on a distant mountaintop. This happy state is something God brings about in degrees, as we separate ourselves, little by little, from attachment to the pleasure of having certain experiences in prayer, and the consequent disappointment when they do not occur. St. John of the Cross says that God desires to bring us forward, to take us out of “the low exercise of sense and discourse … to the exercise of spirit, in which more abundantly and more free from imperfections [we] are able to commune with God.” The Dark Night I.8.3.
It might be said that we must stop chatting with God about our feelings, which the saint repeatedly equates with spiritual infancy. As souls work to separate from attachments, there comes a time when our Lord feels that they are ready to be “strengthened and get out of diapers.” He begins to withdraw sweetness and consolation from prayer. This can make a person feel she is doing something wrong, that “everything has turned upside down.” Ibid. But this is just the novel feeling of learning to stand up on her own feet and beginning to walk, albeit in darkness, and always trusting in God to lead.
This is the person from whom the devil flees. Our own strength, no matter how prodigious, is insignificant compared to the enemy’s. He far outmatches the greatest saint in intellect and will. The person who relies on his or her own strength will always be defeated. The way to victory is the way of emptiness and abandonment to God. We proceed on this way by entering into the deeper prayer that St. John of the Cross teaches.
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* Lewis, Life of St. John of the Cross, pp. 78-80. This biography by the English scholar David Lewis was published in 1897 and currently is out of print but can be found in the Internet Archive, www.archive.org.
Image: The Harrowing of Hell, by Fra Angelico (public domain)
This article originally appeared on www.spiritualdirection.com
