| <<<Home | Maxims Directory |
Continuation of Commentaries
on the Maxims on Love of St. John of the Cross
by Fr. Bruno Cocuzzi, ocd
Maxim 56.
Love
to be unknown both by yourself and by others.
Never look at the good or evil of others.
We can begin our reflections upon this
Maxim by recalling once again and summarizing the meaning of love,
or rather the full implications of the verb to love with regard to the
various objects of our love. It has a
general basic meaning and then various additions to that depending upon the
object of one's love. In this maxim we
are advised to love an abstract idea - namely:
"to be unknown." In
a previous Maxim, #15, we were admonished to have a great "love for
trials." A trial, of course,
is more than an abstract idea, it is a personal experience of the body and the
psyche. As we said in the reflections
on Maxim 15, the word love in these contexts means "to have a great
esteem for." So that would have to
be the very basic general meaning of "to love." This idea is supported also by the fact that
a synonym often used in place of "to love" is "to cherish,"
that is, to hold dear. To cherish is
also related to the word charity, which is itself a synonym for love.
Now along with having a great esteem for
or cherishing an entity, because of the way God has created us, there goes the
act of the will we call "desire."
If we truly value, esteem, or cherish something or some entity, it
becomes an object of our desire. We can only desire what we love.
To see what further things flow from
desire and thus are further acts of love, we go on to see what else besides
abstract ideas and personal experiences are most commonly the objects of our
love. As far as I can see, those other
entities would be tangible objects (material objects) and living things. Of course, living things can be intangible
as well as tangible, in the case of God, angels and Saints and souls in
Purgatory. On earth, tangible living
things are plants, animals and human persons.
With regard to non-living tangible
things that we cherish, our desires for them, our love for them,
causes us to both want to see them free of damage, and, if free of damage, to see them enhanced or
made even more precious, if possible.
Love, then, of these non-living tangible things, consists of repairing
them if damaged, making them better, if possible, and finally, simply rejoicing
that they exist.
This, actually, is true for living
things as well, whether plants or animals.
Since plants or animals would die if not properly cared for, our love
for our household and garden plants and our domestic pets means that we do all
that is necessary to keep them alive and healthy. We know that God loves plants and animals in this way because
Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount reminds us that Our Heavenly Father clothes
the flowers with beauty and feeds the birds of the sky.
We spoke of another characteristic of
love that applies to human persons when, in previous Maxims, we spoke of what
it means to be "in love" with.
Among other things, we said that that meant taking on the value system
and the interests of the Beloved so completely
as one's own, that the lover lives and is, not in and for himself, but lives
in and is for the Beloved .
This kind of love is exercised by God Himself, the Saints, and Angels in
Heaven, the Souls in Purgatory. It can
also be exercised by, and exist in, all
human persons on earth who want to be authentic lovers. And as we may have pointed out in a previous
conference, to love in this way is what constitutes our happiness. To love in this way is to have achieved the
state of blessedness here on earth,
even in the throes of excruciating sufferings.
But
having said all that, it occurs to me that we have still another meaning of
the word to love that applies to all the possible objects of
love we mentioned above. In fact, this is the meaning of love very prevalent
in the world. It means to have
an intense liking for a particular entity, whether an idea, an
experience, a tangible living thing or person.
Thus, we now have a meaning of the word love that is an action, or
better, a reaction, that exists in the lower, fleshly, perceptive faculties
of our souls. Thus, love can exist
not only in the intellect (esteem) and in the will (desire) but it also exists
in the sense-memory and imagination. In
the latter case, we love those things our fleshly, perceptive faculties experience
as pleasant, agreeable, enjoyable and pleasurable.
And so we can also say that the opposite
of love can exist in intellect, will and sense-memory and imagination because
we do perceive persons and things at times to be unpleasant, disagreeable,
bothersome and painful. If these become
intense, we call it hate, an intense dislike.
Hate in the intellect then is disesteem, or the conviction that
something or someone is utterly lacking in value. And hate in the Will (which alone drives God out of our souls)
desires harm, evil and destruction to befall the objects disliked and
disesteemed. So having said all that,
now we can consider how the word love applies in this Maxim to
the abstract idea and to the experience of "being unknown" by
oneself and by others.
In virtue of what we have said, we can
safely assert that we cannot love the abstract idea "to be unknown"
in the sense that we desire, on the one hand, that good things happen to
that idea, nor, on the other hand, desire that no evil or harm befall that
abstract idea. But I believe it is also
safe to say that we can have esteem or disesteem for that abstract notion, and
we can also experience a liking or disliking for that idea. In fact, the two are related. Someone who has the intellectual
apprehension that he/she is unknown cannot but also experience, or feel with
the emotions either a liking or a disliking.
This is most clearly understood if we equate "being unknown"
with "being unrecognized."
Because it hurts us to be denied due recognition, we cannot but dislike
it. On the other hand, unless we are
extremely humble, we can and do like and feel. contentment
when our sins, mistakes and faults remain unrecognized, undetected by others.
Hence, we can say love of "being
unknown" can and does exist in our intellect and in our fleshly
nature. We can now inquire if there is
some way it can exist in the will as well, even though we said above that we
cannot really want good, or evil, to befall an abstract idea.
I think there is a way that love
for an abstract idea can exist in our wills because we can think of "being
known" or "unknown" as an attribute or quality of a person. Certainly all of us should be able to love,
that is, experience a great liking in our emotions and have a great
esteem and value in our intellects for the idea that God be known as
He truly IS. The same would be true of
Jesus and Mary and all the saints; and even some very wonderful people. Thus we could desire earnestly, that
is, have a great love in our wills that God, Jesus and Mary, the Saints
and wonderful people be known.
In the same way, we could have intense dislike, disesteem and hatred in
the emotions, intellect and will for the idea that all of them are unknown
by so many millions, maybe even billions of people. But of course, being known or unknown is not an
attribute that resides in God and the others we've just mentioned. It is a datum of information present or
lacking in human beings. In any event,
we can also love with our wills the idea of being unknown because we can desire
earnestly that God and evil persons be unknown, or at least forgotten
by others. However, this Maxim 56 has
to do with oneself, chiefly, and we will reflect on that aspect now.
Right away, there comes to mind an
admonition of great saints and spiritual authors since ancient times. It, too, is a Maxim: it states:
Know Thyself.
Thus, at first glance, it appears that St. John of the Cross is going
counter to a fundamental principle of the spiritual life. How do we reconcile these maxims with one
another? We are obliged to take both of
them seriously. After all, St. John of
the Cross on the one hand, author of Maxim 56, and the Saints who have enjoined
the other Maxim upon us, are all doctors of the Church. That means their teachings are not only
reliable, but also to be followed by the faithful, at least in spirit.
Well, I believe these can be reconciled
with one another because each one has to do with different objects of our
knowledge. I believe that the Maxim
"Know Thyself" has to do with knowledge of our essential
being. As such, it requires a standard
against which our essential natures are correctly discerned and
identified. That standard, of course,
is God Himself, that is, the Divine Nature, which is possessed equally by all
Three Divine Persons. What we really,
basically, need to know about ourselves as the firm foundation of our entire
spiritual life is that we are creatures, and God is our Creator. As creatures we were drawn from nothingness,
and we would revert back to nothingness if God did not keep us in existence by
the continuing act of His sustaining Will. This knowledge of self is the firm foundation of the spiritual
life, or better, the life of Grace, because from this flows the virtue of
humility. As you know, St. Teresa of
Jesus defined humility as walking in truth, the truth about ourselves and our
relationship with God: Father, Son and
Holy Spirit.
Now the one thing about this essential
knowledge of ourselves is that it is identical for all human beings, and for
all creatures, for that matter. Thus
the Maxim "Know Thyself" has to do with what we
and all other persons have in common. When we know this and allied truths about
ourselves we know it holds true for every one else born or to be born into the
human race. It is true also of Jesus,
with respect to His Humanity, of Mary and all the Saints. Therefore, we have to believe that this
Maxim 56 of St. John of the Cross has to do with knowledge about ourselves and
others that set us apart and distinguish us from one another. It has to do with the attributes and
qualities, or their lack, together with all the degrees and nuances in them
that make each of us unique. These are
the things St. John wants us to keep hidden from ourselves and others. Certainly, St. Therese of the Child Jesus is
an example to us. At least with regard
to others, she earnestly desired, that is, she loved the notion that she be
totally hidden and unknown to those around her, and to be known only by Jesus,
her Divine Spouse, her Beloved. Whether
or not she had ever read this Maxim of St. John of the Cross we do not know for
sure. We do know for sure that she
tried to live it, at least with respect to others. We can also say for sure that she knew and followed the other
Maxim, "Know Thyself" as well. She knew by experience and echoed in her own
writings the truth expressed by St. Paul in one or another of his letters: "Everything
is a grace." She knew,
too, that this knowledge of herself held true for everyone, so that it did not
set her apart from any other human being, even though not all human beings
embrace that truth, that knowledge, as fully and perfectly as she did.
Let us now ask ourselves: What is so wonderful about being
unknown that we should desire it with our wills, esteem
it with our minds, and derive satisfaction from the experience of it in
our emotions? The truth of the matter
is that by nature, the very opposite is true. By nature, as social beings, we cannot help feeling
satisfaction when we are known and well-thought-of by others. Likewise, we cannot help feeling hurt and
saddened when we are not known - that is - when we are not well-thought of nor
esteemed by others. Hence, by nature,
we cannot esteem with our minds nor desire with our wills to be unknown
or non-entities. In other words it is natural
Pride that is operative in both instances.
But is it good for us to be unknown and
therefore unrecognized by others? In a
previous conference on one of these Maxims we said that every human being needs
a sense of self-worth in order to enjoy good psychic health. We can safely say that God wants us to have
good psychic or mental health so that we can be of service to others and so
fulfill our vocation in the Church and in society. And the way to achieve good mental health, through a sense of
self-worth, is to act so as to be esteemed and respected by those around
us. Thus it appears that, by nature, we
can only love (desire), that our sins, faults, defects, and mistakes remain
unknown to others, and forgotten by ourselves.
Thus, the answer to the question:
"What is so desirable about being unknown?" lies in the fact that it
helps destroy inordinate Pride in us.
Once that Pride is dead, we would no longer desire either that our good
qualities become known, or that our sins and defects remain unknown. A truly humble person doesn't care one way
or the other whether he/she is esteemed or disesteemed by other human beings.
As for good mental health, it suffices for a truly humble person to know that
he/she is loved by God with an infinite Love.
You may object: all that is well and good in regard to
remaining unknown by others. What is so
great and desirable about being unknown by oneself, (if indeed, such a thing is
possible)?
It seems to me that there is something
else in us besides Pride that St. John of the Cross knows will be destroyed by
the practice of this Maxim 56, and I do believe it is self-deception. It is almost impossible for us human beings
to be completely objective in regard to ourselves. We are by nature biased concerning all things that touch
us personally and our personal interests.
This is suggested by the second sentence of this Maxim 56. "Never look at the good or evil of
others." The reason for that,
of course, is to avoid falling into rash judgments about others. We always deceive ourselves and fall into
error, if not sin, when we allow ourselves to form opinions based upon what we
see and hear others doing and saying.
Perhaps St. John added the second sentence in order to give us a hint as
to how to remain unknown to ourselves. Often it is said: If you
can't understand yourself, how do you expect to understand others? It seems to me that the reason we cannot
understand ourselves is because self-interest blinds us to the truth about
ourselves. Thus, we root out
self-deception by not looking at anything that pertains to us as individuals,
and in that way remain unknown to ourselves.
Because we can love the idea of not deceiving ourselves,
it is also possible to love, that is, desire to be unknown to
ourselves. And now it occurs to me that
self-deception is itself due to inordinate pride, and this reinforces the
conviction that St. John of the Cross gave us this Maxim to help us destroy
Pride in us by removing it by the roots.
Before continuing to reflect upon this
Maxim, let me say that when I first read it, I couldn't help thinking about a
couple of previous ones. When I looked
for them they turned out to be Maxims 35 and 44. In Maxim 35, St. John of the Cross tells us that it is not the
virtues we know we have that make us perfect, but the virtues Our Lord sees in
us. Then he says: "this is a closed book." So, in his mind we cannot know the
good that is really in us. It would be
safe to say, then, that we cannot know the evil that is really in
us. Hence, there is good reason why we
should not look at good or evil in ourselves, and why we should love to remain
unknown to ourselves.
Maxim 44 is even more explicit about our
not knowing our true selves. Toward the
end of the Maxim, St. John of the Cross says we should not glory (glory =
knowledge with praise) in the gifts that make a person pleasing in God's sight
because, he points out, we "do not even know if [we]
possess them." Hence any
judgment we were to make about the state or quality of our soul could not be
accurate. So if we look neither at
ourselves or at others we would not have any data to process to a conclusion,
and we would avoid deceiving ourselves about ourselves and others. We would particularly avoid comparing
ourselves with others. When we do that,
Pride causes us to fall further into error and self-deception because Pride
inclines us to diminish others in order to exalt ourselves. So, no data = no judgments = no comparisons
for Pride to make. We can thus compare
pride to the muscles of our body. If we
never use a particular muscle it grows weak, atrophies and becomes useless. So if we never give pride anything to work
on, it soon atrophies and dies.
Now a couple of final questions. How can we possibly not notice the
good and evil in ourselves and others?
And how is it possible to keep others from noticing the good and evil in
ourselves?
First of all, the Maxim does not
say, in the second sentence: Never notice
the good or evil of others. It
says: do not look at. I am convinced there is a significant
difference between not noticing and not looking at. To notice something would be to be superficially
aware of something. I've used the
expression "at first sight" or "at first glance" frequently
in these reflections on the maxims.
That indicates that there is an instantaneous perception that
precedes a "closer look", and thus precedes deliberate reasoning upon
what triggered the instantaneous perception.
The Maxim advises us never to go beyond that instantaneous
perception of either good or evil in the thoughts, words, and actions of
others, certainly, and we are to try to do the same for ourselves. There is a special difficulty in not taking a
closer look at what we perceive in ourselves of good or evil, especially
because we are obliged, or urged, frequently to do our examination of
conscience. Even in these reflections
on these Maxims we have had occasion to speak of examining our motives. So how can we be unknown to ourselves? It seems to me that the way to put this
Maxim into practice as well as the others that require an inquiry into our
motives is to ask Jesus and the Holy Spirit to reveal to us the sins and
deliberate faults we have fallen into in one way or another, so as not to have
to delve into the depths of our souls.
We might be able to find those sins and faults simply by looking at
Jesus, imagining Him to have been in our shoes. There is, after all, a saying in Scripture: "In Your light we shall see
light,” namely, the truth about our sins and deliberate faults.
But then again, there may be another way
to remain unknown to ourselves, and if so, we can get a hint as to how to do it
by reflecting upon how we might remain hidden to others, even though others may
very well be taking closer looks at the good and evil they superficially
perceive in us. And we can do that, I
think, by imitating St. Therese of the Child Jesus.
As you recall, when she was close to
death, a certain nun in the community expressed a doubt that the Mother
Prioress would find anything special to write about Therese in the circular
letter sent to all Carmels in France when a nun in one of those Carmels
died. That was because this same nun
did not notice anything out of the ordinary or remarkable in Therese during the
nine years she lived in the Carmel.
Actually, even her own blood sisters didn't truly know her, probably
because their own pre-conceived notions of what sanctity consists of for a
Carmelite got in the way. Well, the
reason St. Therese remained unknown is because she was no different from any of
the other nuns in taking part in the community life, keeping the Rule and
Constitutions, participating in the common prayers, and religious exercises, following
the customs and traditions that were in vogue.
In other words, she only allowed the other nuns to see her as no
different from anyone else. Looking at
her, they saw themselves, so to speak.
For me, in my monastery, to remain
unknown, I would have to do the same as Therese: follow the daily schedule, do my assigned work, participate at
Mass, office, meals, recreation, etc. like everyone else. Thus all the others would know no more about
me than they would about anyone else.
And thus it seems that a lay Catholic and a lay Carmelite would have to
do the same thing. It would mean trying
to be indistinguishable from all other Catholics and lay Carmelites in doing
what is expected of him/her according to his/her state in life.
But speaking of St. Therese, there was
also a way in which she remained unknown to herself, different from what I
suggested that we might try in order to remain hidden to ourselves. Namely, she determined to remain in darkness
concerning her own virtues and merits.
She never tried to locate herself on a pre-conceived scale of holiness,
nor did she hang on to anything that devout Catholics and Nuns of her time
considered to be important as measures of advancement in holiness. In that way, she did manage to hide from
herself as well as from others.
Finally, since I am not sure that all of
the foregoing about being unknown to oneself and others is absolutely
convincing and accurate concerning this Maxim, I remind us that the only thing
the Maxim enjoins is to Love, that is, to desire to be
unknown. It does not say succeed
in being unknown. So we can esteem and
desire being unknown and try to be unknown.
But the closer we get to succeeding, the less likely we are to know
that we are succeeding.
And post-finally, since St. John in
Maxims 35 and 44 tells us that the virtues God sees in us is a closed book,
and that we don't know if we have the gifts that make us pleasing to God,
perhaps a practical interpretation of Maxim 56 would be: "Rejoice that you are unknown
both by yourself and others. Always look at others as identified with
Jesus."
| <<<Home | Maxims Directory |