Creativity finds its soul when it embraces its shadow…One day the inspiration leaves and emptiness takes over. If we could see how our blank spots are a part of our creativity, we might not so quickly exclude this aspect of work from our humble lives. –Moore, p. 198

Failures, whether they come in the form of a dry spell, a time of conflict, or a loss of faith, are part of the work. They don’t undo us, unless we force them underground out of fear. What if our failures–the shadow side of a desire to live life together well–can be incorporated into our journey, and be seen as fundamental to moving forward?

I recall my first introduction to St. John of the Cross. When I was in 10th grade or thereabouts, Marty Miller acquainted us with St. John’s theology of the ‘dark night of the soul,’ which was a comforting theology to the 14-year-old me. In high school, life is one tumult after another, and faith can become a torture if it must be manifested as an abiding sense of joy and well-being which finds no place for typical HS experiences like abandonment, loneliness, doubt, anger, and so on. Just as life is not one unending day, so our spiritual lives are not without darkness.

This night…is spiritual, by which the spirit is purged and denuded as well as accommodated and prepared for union with God through love. –SJOC, Book I, Ch. 8

And it is darkness for a purpose: weaning us of our reliance on our own strengths, will, determination, and intentions in exchange for a deep and thorough focus on and connection to God.

We have, it seems to me, a fairly well fleshed-out view of what years of prosperity look like in a church community. Whether our metric is numbers, finances, or the spirit or tone of relationships, we can envision such a state. Our imagination for years of struggle is not so well-developed. Our creativity is as of yet lacking. Do we not expect these times? Or do we fear them? If we can get past moralizing (whose fault is this season of famine?) to begin creating an understanding of our struggle as useful (even normative), maybe we can stop wishing it away and learn to receive its gifts.

We must envision–use our creativity which is given in the image of our creator–our times of struggle. What have we to learn? What have past seasons of struggle taught? What ritual do we use to represent our present spiritual location, to enter fully into dark times of uncertainty, conflict, and fear? Just as St. John’s dark nights weaned him of his reliance on anything but God, how can we allow an honest recognition of this season to bring us to closer connection with our Father?

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 14th, 2006 at 1:21 pm and is filed under From the nation of Indig. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.