Message given at Durham Friends Meeting, December 8, 2024

Heart of Darkness

“Jesus said, “the seeker should not stop until he finds. When he does find, he will be disturbed. After having been disturbed, he will be astonished. Then he will reign over everything. (Gospel of St. Thomas.)

Today is December 8, just shy of three weeks before we hit the winter solstice and the light begins to return, slowly. So we’re in it. The deep dark days before the light returns. Whatever is the point for us human beings around the darkness? How do we make meaning of it for us? Lately we’ve been hearing about hygge, that practice by the people of the far northern climes to honor and even revel in the darkness. We hear about the bears going into hibernation, to rest and renew. In typical western fashion we put a “happy” spin on these days of darkness. I’m all for that. Because as it turns out, I happen to be one of those people that finds the darkness to be quite useful.

Roshi Joan Halifax, a Buddhist Teacher and Abbot, founder of the Upaya Zen Center in New Mexico wrote a book about and coined the term “The Fruitful Darkness”. This is how I choose to approach this time of year.

In the early 1990s Joan Halifax, as an anthropologist and grieving daughter and ex-partner/wife, traveled to Tibet, Mexico and the Western U.S. to experience indigenous sacred practices. She wanted to understand how indigenous cultures manage personal and world wounds through initiation, storytelling, non-duality and ceremony. Roshi Halifax found that the indigenous tribe, the Utes, understand that, “[t[he secret of life is in the shadows and not in the open sun; to see anything at all, you must look deeply into the shadow of a living thing.” (The Fruitful Darkness, p. 5)

Furthermore, she writes that though this process may be difficult there is an ending and a hopeful one at that, “[t]he process of initiation can be likened to a “sacred catastrophe,” a holy failure that actually extinguishes our alienation, our loneliness, and reveals our true nature, our love. That is why we seek initiation: to heal old wounds by reentering them in order to transform our suffering into compassion.” (TFD p. 15)

Dr. Gerald G. May wrote the ominously entitled book, The Dark Night of the Soul. It is an interpretation and application of the writings of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross, two christian mystics living in Spain in the 16th century. Both mystics spoke andwrote extensively about what they name The darkness or The dark night or in SpanishLa noche oscura- the hidden night.

And what is my experience with the Fruitful Darkness, or the dark night of the soul? It is a varied and ineffable experience that once I pass through, becomes difficult to describe. Often I am pulled into this darkness kicking and screaming, hauling out all my attachments to keep at bay the inevitable. I cling to busyness; food; sleep; my various external identities; where I’ve been, who I’ve been with, what I’ve done. Desperate to feel connected and grounded as I begin the descent into the darkness and down the rabbit hole of the feeling of purposelessness and self doubt. Who am I and where do I belong? I wail. I’m not enough, a failure! I cry out. Prostrate on the floor, sobbing, “again God, really, AGAIN”?

I recognize the futility of the external attachments I hold onto as I swim in the vast ocean of confusion and uncertainty. The personal uncertainty becomes the global uncertainty and with that, the overwhelm. And I ask, “Where is God? I don’t feel God! Where is my connection that I so rely on to soothe and comfort me, to reassure me that I’m on the right path, that we/the world is on the right path. I cast about for the energies of Jesus, Mary Magdalene, ArchAngel Michael, Green Tara, my parents, my trees and rocks and animals in whom I find solace. And there is none.

In his book, Dr. May confirms my experience of disconnection when he writes, “[a] much more unsettling experience is the loss of the sense of God’s presence, which can often feel like being abandoned by God. But Dr. May views this place of disconnection as a necessary piece of the transformative process. Much like Roshi Halifax found in her research.

So here I am in the nothing, the emptiness. Silence. I feel alone in the desert of my own humanity, separate from God and from others. And there I stay, roiled in rage; shame; self-loathing; abject fear and loneliness. Images of past betrayals and wounds fill my body and my mind. And there I stay.

Dr. May posits that John of the Cross viewed these dark nights as a gift; That the night involves relinquishing attachments and takes us into territory we avoid and, in the process, transforms us.(TDKS p. 71.)

The goal of the transformation, Dr. May writes, the dawn after the night, consists of 3 precious gifts for the human soul. First, the soul’s deepest desire is satisfied. Freed from their attachments, individuals are able to be completely in love with God and to love their neighbors as themselves. This love involves one’s whole self: actions as well as feelings. Second, the delusion of separation from god and creation is expelled; slowly one consciously realizes and enjoys essential union that has always been present. Third, the freedom of love and realization of union leads to active participation in God. Here one not only recognizes one’s own beauty and precious nature, but also shares God’s love and compassion for others in real practical service in the world.

So back to where I am waiting in the darkness, in the shadows, waiting for the storm of the wounds and betrayals to pass. Waiting for… I’m not even sure what.

Until….until… what?

Until there is a spark of something else. A glimmer of light peaks through the veil of darkness. Perhaps a momentary warmth in my heart. And the warmth grows. I may experience a change in perspective around the story of the betrayal or the wound. I may remember that while I was gnashing my teeth and deep in self pity the little voice inside me sent me nuggets of insight that I know are truth, a glimmer of the truth of who I am, really, authentically. Dr. May again confirms this experience through Teresa of Avila. He says, she especially emphasizes that, “(o)ne sees one’s own true nature with increasing clarity. Each time we approach the dawn when…we begin to glimpse ourselves through God’s eyes, we recognize more of our inherent goodness and beauty. “I can find nothing with which to compare the great beauty of a soul,” Teresa says.” (id. p.100)

My body begins to relax; the sense of absolute uncertainty and self doubt slowly dissipates. My attitude slowly changes, perhaps the lack of certainty evolves into a sense of mystery or even wonder, and, maybe I can lean into those bits of wisdom and with some curiosity.

And as I reflect back on my experience in the darkness and more importantly what happens at the end of the tunnel of darkness, I realize I am left emptier, but not in the way of feeling like I’m all alone on a desert island. The emptiness more corresponds to a lightening of a burden, like I’ve shed something. My body feels more lithe and flexible, not so stiff and rigid. Have I really healed old wounds as Roshi Halifax suggests? Iknow I was pulled into those places, I felt I had no choice. And I looked at those wounds and betrayals and felt I was once again back in them. I cried and yelled and wrote about them.

It seems that the Apostle Thomas writes about the inevitability of these nights. “Jesus said: that which is hidden will be revealed to you. Nothing hidden will fail to be displayed. (Gospel of St. Thomas 2.)

And then I got to a place where I recognized that I am who I am, a flawed human being filled with petty jealousy, selfishness, resentment, just like every other human being on this planet. And I began to soften my feelings towards myself, the judgement slipping away leaving an expansiveness, a warmth in my heart. It feels good.

How does this happen? Some would characterize it as Alchemy, others would say it is God’s Grace and still others, a miracle. I subscribe to all of the above.

So what is this warming in my heart?

This is Love and according to Teresa and John, Love as it is realized in God. and that this alchemical process, this “authentic transformation leads us to desire.” The desire to love. For John and Teresa, “the essence of all human desire is for love.” (p. 73).

Dr. May writes, “The spiritual life for Teresa and John has nothing to do with getting closer to God.” It is instead a journey of consciousness. Union with God is realized as a result of Love.” “John says the soul arrives at perfect union with God through love. This deepening of love is the real purpose of the dark night of the soul. The dark night helps us become who we are created to be: lovers of God and one another.” (TDNS pp. 46-47).

And that has been my experience. Each time I move through these dark times the process sheds something, perhaps, that thick protection around my heart that I have been convinced helps me. But John writes that the darkness “becomes our guiding night”, and Dr. May extrapolates, The night is dark for our protection”. “Deep in the darkness, way beneath our senses, God is instilling “another better love”. (Id. pp. 72-73.) And furthermore, John asserts that, “[t]his dark night is an inflow of God into the soul.” (Id. 95). And this inflow is the “loving Wisdom of God.” (id. 96)

And having shed a little more of this armour around my heart, I can move into a place of loving myself more, of loving life and God, Great Spirit, Creator more; of loving the flame within me more, and that desire to love others more.

So with that flame of brightness and light in our soul, the warmth of love burning in our hearts, let us rejoice in the darkness, let it transform us and move us into greater wisdom and greater love.