A journey of purification and love
Among the treasures of Carmelite spirituality, few writings speak more directly to the interior journey than The Dark Night of the Soul. Written in poetic and theological form, it unfolds the mysterious passage through which a soul, drawn by love, is purified and made ready for full union with God.
For St. John, the "dark night" is not a tragedy or loss of faith — it is a sacred process of transformation. The night represents the loving action of God who, by withdrawing spiritual consolations and allowing trials, detaches the soul from everything that is not God. Through this hidden work, the soul learns to love God for who He is, not for what He gives.
The two nights: sense and spirit
St. John describes two principal stages in this journey of purification:
The Night of the Senses
This is often the first experience of spiritual dryness after a period of fervor or sweetness in prayer. The soul that once found joy in devotions now finds little satisfaction. This is not because God has abandoned it, but because He is inviting it to a deeper, purer love.
- The attachments to feelings, comforts, and even spiritual pleasures are gently stripped away.
- The soul learns to live by faith rather than emotion, trusting that God is still present in the silence.
- This stage is like weaning a child from milk — it feels painful, but it leads to maturity in love.
The Night of the Spirit
After the senses are purified, a deeper night begins in the higher faculties: intellect, memory, and will. Here, even one's understanding of God and confidence in prayer are purified.
- The soul can no longer rely on concepts, images, or reasoning; everything seems dark and uncertain.
- Yet, in that darkness, God's infinite light begins to possess the soul more completely.
- This is the most demanding part of the journey, but it prepares the soul for the radiant dawn of divine union.
The purpose of the night
The Dark Night is not God's absence but His transforming presence hidden from our senses. St. John insists that the apparent darkness comes not because God's light has gone out, but because it is too bright for the soul's imperfect vision. Like eyes adjusting from darkness to sunlight, the soul must first endure blindness before it can see clearly.
Through this night, the soul is purified of pride, self-love, and disordered attachments. It becomes stripped, simple, and ready to receive the fullness of divine life. This path leads to what St. John calls the "union of love" — when the soul's will is entirely one with God's will.
A message for Carmelites today
For us who walk the Carmelite way — whether friar, nun, or member of the Secular Order — this teaching is not abstract theology but a living map of the interior life. The Dark Night is woven into the very fabric of Carmelite spirituality: silence, detachment, contemplation, and the total offering of self.
It reminds us that true prayer is not measured by feelings but by fidelity. When prayer becomes dry, when God seems distant, or when our efforts appear fruitless, we can recall St. John's wisdom: this may be the very sign that God is at work most deeply.
Mary, our Mother and Sister, lived her own night of faith at the foot of the Cross. Elijah, the prophet of Carmel, found God not in the storm or fire but in the gentle whisper. So too, the Carmelite learns to seek God not in consolations but in quiet trust.
From darkness to dawn
In the end, the Dark Night of the Soul is not about suffering for its own sake but about love's victory. It is the path by which the soul becomes luminous with divine love — humble, free, and at peace. The night is temporary; its fruit is eternal.
"Oh, night more lovely than the dawn, oh, night that joined Beloved with beloved!"
The dark night, then, is the bridal chamber of the soul — where God and the soul meet in the stillness of pure love.