The Mystical Mountain

When I was early in my exploration of mysticism, its core and its expressions, I came across an unexpected analogy that has stuck with me ever since. The analogy states that those who love God belong to one of two camps. One camp is the “monkeys”: baby monkeys cling tenaciously to their mother. Such people dwell on the Divine and trust in the Divine, but utilize their own abilities as they cling to the Divine. The second camp is the “kittens”: the extent of the kittens’ effort is to mew to the mother to take care of them, trusting that when the mother picks them up, they are in safe hands (or fangs, I suppose, in this case). While both camps are legitimate, the way of the kitten is superior, as the trust and faith in the mother (the Divine in this analogy) is more complete.

Also, while in my late teens I read a wonderful biography of St. John of the Cross (declared a Doctor of Mystical Theology of the Universal Church by Pope Pius XI in 1926). It is still one of my favourite biographies from which I learned a great deal. But at that age, given the literalist bent of mind that I had at the time, I was really bothered by one event in the saint’s life – his escape from incarceration. For those who are not familiar with the story, here’s a short summary:

In 1577, John of the Cross was abducted by a group of his fellow Carmelites who opposed his attempts at reforming the Carmelite Order and was taken to the Carmelite monastery in Toledo. There he was tried by a court of his fellow friars and was sentenced to prison within the monastery. For nine months, John was isolated in a tiny cell, and had to bear the darkness, extremes in temperature, near-starvation and lashings. During the octave of the Assumption, the Blessed Virgin Mary appeared to John, showing him how to escape through a small window in a room adjoining his cell. 

The mystic in me should have appreciated this Divine revelation and the fact that it was during his incarceration that John began composing his mystical poetic masterpieces The Dark Night of the Soul and Spiritual Canticle – and therefore it can be seen as a catalyst for this great mystic to share his wisdom and experience with the world. But, no, I thought that it would be more “proper” for John to be released without any effort on his part. Yes, I was a blockhead.

And then, one day, it stopped. I clearly remember the day in which I learned that my present accommodation was coming to an end due to change in ownership of the domicile I was living in, but no new “steppingstone” was appearing. I was scared. I was racked with doubt. But there was no option but for me to look in the newspaper for a room to rent. As it happened, I got good accommodation in a location that I wanted and at a reasonable price, and I was happy in my new place. But I was troubled by this shift: it had seemed that I was being forced to move from being a “kitten” to a “baby monkey” – a spiritual demotion, as it were – and I could not understand why I was being “demoted” by God.

Well, I got used to having to take some initiative (though I am not sure that “control” is the right verb) in my life in terms of my living space, my studies, my work, and my hobbies. And in the process, I matured and grew up. Gradually, I took spiritual advice less literally.

Never again did the same string of extraordinary coincidences happen in which everything just got orchestrated around me and all I had to do was ask the Divine for help. However, there have been several other times in my life in which unexpected events took place that required extreme leaps of faith – and I simply went on the “ride” to whatever the destination might be – and my life has been much the richer for doing so. In the meanwhile, however, on a day-to-day basis for most of my life I have had to do the same mundane things as the vast majority of people and make the mundane choices and decisions that keep myself, my family, and the world going (at least, at the external level).

But what to think of the baby monkeys and the kittens? Doesn’t the gospel teach: Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? (Matthew 6:26-27)

During my youth, my focus was on verse 26. No, I wasn’t a loafer; I expected to have to earn my bread by “the sweat of my brow”. In fact, due to my poverty, I ended up working every day of my summer “vacation” from early May to the end of August, during my undergraduate years. But as I have matured, I have kept in mind verse 27. This passage has more to do with the mind than one’s physical situation. And herein, to me, lies the solution.

It is possible to perform one’s duties to society, family and self, and to take initiative in all affairs that pertain to the world – and still depend totally on the Divine. It is possible to conduct one’s worldly affairs with a spirit of detachment regarding the results of one’s actions. Every action can be performed as a prayer, as an offering to God, knowing that God will take care of our needs no matter what. No need to worry oneself.

Now that I am living in my seventh decade, I see the monkey vs. kitten comparison in a different light. Why does the baby monkey cling so tightly to its mother? Because it is afraid of falling. The kitten has no fear, even though it is being suspended by the scruff of the neck and is utterly helpless. There it is: fear. That to me is the key. One can be active in the world, performing whatever duties one has and doing so ethically, and do so fearlessly. This is not to say that one should believe that everything will work out how one anticipates them – far from it! No, it is acting with the faith that God will guide and protect us because we do everything as offerings to Him. In this way we are an “internal kitten” while being an “outward monkey” (acting with responsibility). At least, that is how I make peace with this advice at this particular stage in my life.