Contemplation Series: A Dulled Blade

"Not all the faculties and senses have to be employed in things, but only those that are required; as for the others, leave them unoccupied for God... The soul that desires God to surrender himself to it entirely must surrender itself entirely to him without keeping anything for itself." - St. John of the Cross


First off, I'd like to apologize to all the readers of this blog as it's primary writer. It's been close to three weeks since the last article, and that would normally be unacceptable. However, the reason that it's been so long is twofold, and I would like to share them with you all so that any confusion can be cleared up. First off, my family moved just recently, and I've been preoccupied with it enough to stall writing. Secondly, recently in prayer when I've asked for something to write about in this series on contemplation, I've been told that I should be patient and wait for something more important than usual that I can specifically relate to and write about. So here we are! (Special thanks to Father Ed Fride, pastor of Christ the King Catholic Church in Ann Arbor, MI.)

In one of his most recent homilies (I believe it was the one for All Souls' Day), the pastor of my parish, Fr. Ed Fride, talked a bit about the contemplative life and its connection to Purgatory and to the cleansing of the soul in preparation for Paradise, for being with Christ, with the Father, with the Holy Spirit, for receiving the infinite outpouring of divine love from the Most Holy Trinity our God. He talked about how one of the main facets of the contemplative life is the giving up of all the external things, even the pleasures, for the sake of receiving more of the love of God into our hearts. These things, which include internal things like sensual and sexual pleasures, desires for things, even things we know to be good, and pleasure gained from them, are external by the fact that they can very easily distract us from what should be our true happiness; God alone.

In fact, there's a song that goes by the same name that I hear every so often, which in fact is this poem:
God alone! God alone!
In your courts, O my Lord, is my home!
You are my treasure, my portion,
delight of my soul!
My life, my salvation, my fortress,
my God and my all!
O my soul, claim nothing as your own!
For you, there is God,
and God alone!

God should be our all in all, our everything, for God is all we need. St. John of the Cross writes constantly about the importance of having our senses dulled so that we won't be distracted by them, for how can sensory pleasures compare to God Himself, He Who is Everything Good? St. Augustine writes in "Confessions" about the dangers of the senses; "And so the general experience of the senses, as was said, is called the lust of the eyes..." Our senses are of course good, for they are the tools God has given us so we can experience life and the world around us. However, they are not a good in and of themselves, they are not an end, nor is the pleasure we can gain from them. Rather, they serve us so we can experience things and by experiencing things we can come closer to God. Our only true happiness should be in Him, because He is the only one who can provide that true happiness.
In conclusion, the main point is this; Although most of us will probably not be living a contemplative life in a monastery, or even simply as a priest or in religious life, we all need to be careful with our sensory experiences, and bend them to God's will. Married, engaged, and discerning to be married couples should take care especially in the physical and emotional areas, while priests and people in the religious life, although certainly able to be distracted by the above areas, should take care in the other areas which might be stronger from the absence of the above areas. Of course we should never view the senses themselves as bad, but living in contemplation, living with a constant desire for God alone, requires that the sensory experiences are the least of our problems and pleasures.