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Go forward to CHAPTER ONE The Life and Times of John of the Cross

INTRODUCTION

My wife and I first passed through Málaga where John had founded a house of the reform in 1585, and on to Granada where we arrived early in the morning. After a cup of coffee, we visited the convent of Discalced Carmelite nuns in the center of the city, just a couple of minutes from the great Cathedral and Royal Chapel of the Catholic Monarchs, Ferdinand and Isabella. Mother Superior and two sisters received us with much kindness, giving me lots of time to ask about places and events in Granada connected with John's stay there from 1582 to 1588. The sisters showed us relics of John, a walking stick he used in his frequent trips from his monastery of Los Mártires to the convent for confessions and spiritual direction, and some documents in John's own hand. The latter were especially interesting, and one of the sisters pointed out that John's signature had been cut out of the documents, probably for devotional reasons.

On January 20, 1582, John officiated at the opening of the house in Granada, and the first superior had been Ana de Jesus (Anne of Jesus), whom John had met in Mancera in 1570, when Mother Teresa passed through the town with a group of sisters on her way to Salamanca and then to Valladolid to found a new convent. Mother Anne of Jesus did us all a great service by asking John to explain the "Spiritual Canticle" poem; John did so, dedicating the commentary to her. The sisters were evidently proud of the fact that John had founded their convent in Granada and excited to share their history. However, it was equally clear that what they valued most of all was the life and spirit of the reform that they sought to prolong in their own lives.

Overlooking Granada is the great fortress of the Alhambra, and on the southern slopes of the hill on which it is built are the ruins of Los Mártires, the monastery of the Carmelite reform that John saw for the first time in 1582. It is called Los Mártires because tradition commemorates there the martyrdom of twelve Christians by the Moors. Here John built his hermitage, in what is now a ruined and overgrown section closed to the general public. My wife and I arrived after a long walk from the city center in the heat of a Granada early afternoon, retracing John's steps. We saw a guide to the museum just getting into his car to go home, but when I mentioned my interest in John of the Cross he excitedly got out of his car and spent over an hour showing us all around the grounds of what was once an early house of the reform. Señor Paco Morente was a government tour guide. He informed us that he had little interest in the museum, but that his heart was always in the history and influence of John of the Cross. Señ or Morente, whom friends appropriately called El Sereño, showed us the small lake with its old ruined tower where tradition suggested the twelve were martyred, their throats cut. He pointed out the twelve columns, symbolizing the martyred group, and reminded us of John's desire that the little lake area be kept as a shrine. An aqueduct designed and built by John still provides the lake's water.

It was sad to see the grounds, buildings, and gardens so neglected. The whole surroundings on the lower slopes of the Alhambra hill were quite barren, with most of the trees cut down. Once this area must have been quite beautiful, and even today it evokes memories of the Mystical Doctor; it was here that John finished the Ascent of Mount Carmel, wrote the Dark Night of the Soul (1582-84), added eight stanzas and wrote his commentary to the "Spiritual Canticle" poem (1584), and composed both the poem and commentary on the Living Flame of Love (1585).

Our second day of journeying with John of the Cross again began very early. Our goal was Ubeda, where John died. However, we first stopped in Baeza, where John had opened a house of studies for the friars close to the old university. There he resided from 1579-82. In Baeza, John wrote part of "En una noche oscura" (the "Dark Night" poem), and some of the Ascent of Mount Carmel. Some commentators think he may also have written several later verses of the "Spiritual Canticle" poem here and completed a section of the commentary.

When we arrived, several shopkeepers were preparing for the day ahead, sweeping outside their stores. I asked directions to several places connected with John's life, and within a few minutes there was a small group of local people telling me enthusiastically about the history of their town and its connections with John. While not all their directions or history were accurate, it was delightful to share in their pride. We crossed the Plaza del Mercado Viejo, and met a Carmelite friar, much as villagers might have done four centuries ago as they encountered John going about his ministry. The friar, informed of our plans for the day, told us about John and places we "had to see." We visited the old university and the Cathedral built by Ferdinando III, "El Santo," who conquered the area in 1227; both buildings were standing in John's time. We saw the site of a convent that John visited to give spiritual direction, now a modern school of arts and sciences, and we saw more recent Carmels.

At the monastery of the Discalced Carmelite friars in Ubeda, we entered their museum of the life and times of John through the same door through which John of the Cross was brought on September 28, 1591, suffering from fever and inflammation of his leg. John suffered much in those days in Ubeda, and died peacefully at midnight on December 14, 1591.

The museum contains the room where John died, the table on which his body was prepared for burial, the chapel where his funeral took place and where he was briefly buried from his death in 1591 to May 1593, when his body was transferred to Segovia, Elsewhere the museum shows episodes from John's life, using the actual items associated with John whenever possible, such as a table where he sat to give direction. There are also relics, writings of John, artistic portrayals of his life and teachings, and art and books inspired by John. It was both a fascinating and a moving experience for us; enriched by the kindness and dedication of our friar-guide.

We left the monastery and paused to get a drink at a bar in the square next to the Church of St. Paul's where John's statue now stands. Struggling to remember a word in Spanish, I exclaimed to the bar owner how difficult it was dealing with everyone in a language not your own. To which he replied "Nothing is difficult when people treat you well." I remember his words as a fine ending to a special morning; I could not help recalling how John in his last days had won over the abusive prior of Ubeda by treating him well, after Fr. Crisóstomo had treated him so poorly. "Where there is no love," John used to say, "put love, and there you will draw out love."

After Ubeda, we journeyed through the northern sections of Andalusia, passing several cities linked to John: Linares where he founded a convent, Andujar with its parish church where the autograph copy of the Sayings of Light and Love is kept. Our stay in Cordoba was brief, to see some of the sights he would have seen. We visited the beautiful cathedral and old city he would have known, and the modern convent and monastery that prolong his spirit.

The next morning we left early and soon found ourselves outside the cathedral in Seville, a city John visited in 1586 to help some nuns of the reform transfer to a new convent. The capital city of Andalusia, and the fourth largest city of Spain, Seville boasts an extraordinary history filled with great monarchs, soldiers, missionaries, philosophers, and theologians. We returned to the coast by way of Ronda, through the magnificent scenery of southwest Spain. We had traveled about a thousand kilometers in three days, had seen many of the foundations of John, and several places with special memories of his life, work, ministry, and last hours.

It was delightful to see how proud the Andalusians remain of their cities' associations with John, and to find that his work of reform endured in the poverty, simplicity, and dedication of the contempory people we met. It was particularly challenging to see the countryside that inspired his poetry. Whenever I now read John, I am reminded of the people, the places, and the images of the three days in Andalusia. Seeing how vital John's spirit and teaching remain even among the ordinary folk of southern Spain helped convince me again that John has a message for our time, not just for academics or members of contemplative religious orders, but for all those who seek God in an often confusing world.