The Living Flame of Love

St John of the Cross († 1591) · Llama de amor viva · c. 1585–1586

English translation by David Lewis (1814–1895), with an introduction by Benedict Zimmerman, London: Thomas Baker, 1919.

The four stanzas and their explanation. Zimmerman’s introduction is under “About this translation”.

  1. Prologue
  2. The stanzas
  3. Explanation of the stanzas
  4. Stanza I
  5. Stanza II
  6. Stanza III
  7. Stanza IV
About this translation

Introduction, by Benedict Zimmerman

The fourth volume of the works of St. John of the Cross contains the last of his treatises on mystical theology, the explanation of The Living Flame of Love, which by many is considered the most sublime of the four; and also some smaller writings, namely a series of Spiritual Instructions and Precautions, a collection of Letters, Maxims selected from his various works, and Poems. ‘The Living Flame of Love is a piece of poetry composed during or immediately after his imprisonment at Toledo. Condemned to involuntary rest and complete seclusion, deprived of every earthly comfort, even to a change of linen, during nine months, with only so much light as was indispensable for reading his breviary, and nothing but foul air to breathe, St. John lived in intimate and uninterrupted communion with God, pouring forth his soul in verses, not merely of literary merit, but replete with an exalted, rapturous

love of the Spouse of his soul. In later years, when prior of Granada (1584), he was requested by his penitent, Doña Ana de Mercado y Penalosa, widow, since 1579, of Don Juan de Guevara, to write an explanation of this canticle. He yielded to her request, says Mr. Lewis,[1] with great unwillingness, because the hymn is of matters so interior and spiritual as to be beyond the compass of human speech, As the Living Flame was composed about the same time as the Spiritual Canticle, the explanations of these two poems were also written about the same period; and as the former poem is a continuation of the latter, so the commentary to that supplements the commentary to this. ‘In the former stanzas,’ says St. John in the Prologue, ‘I spoke of the highest degree of perfection to which it is possible to attain in this life, transformation in God; yet these, the explanation of which I now propose to undertake, speak of that love still more perfect and complete in the same state of transformation.’ +

It should be understood that in this new work St. John supplies an answer to a question which must have presented itself to the reader of the Spiritual Canticle. In his first treatises the author accompanied the soul on the long and arduous journey, typically described as the Ascent of Mount Carmel and the Dark Night, which may last many years. Emerging from the terrifying darkness it finds itself in that blissful state, technically called Espousals of the soul, of which the Spiritual Canticle gives a glowing picture. Now the question arises: Can this state be permanent? or is it just a last glorious ray before the sun sets and the eyes close in death, and the soul stands before the great white throne? or is it a climax in the spiritual life, to be followed by a return into insignificance? or can there be many such climaxes in the course of a single life, just as there are many snow-capped peaks in a mountain range? We shall endeavour to answer these questions to the best of our knowledge, which, however, is strictly limited.

In the first place we must repeat what we have said in the Introduction to the Dark Night, namely that St. John states an extreme case; for one soul that passes through the utter darkness of desolation, hundreds or thousands are being tried more or less sharply, but not by any means to the same extent. Likewise, hundreds or thousands come forth from the trial victoriously, while perhaps only one among so many reaches the heights described in the Spiritual Canticle. It goes almost without saying that this is the one that has been tried most severely. For the vast majority there may be many climaxes, but only relative ones, as there may have been many purgations, none of them so very searching. The reason is that but few have the courage to undergo the active and passive purgation to the extent required by St. John. No one respects the free will of man more than God does; He forces no one to become a saint, though He calls and allures many. Few are generous enough to mortify every desire, every pleasure, every gratification of sense or spirit so completely as to absolutely empty the soul of everything created. Now it is certain that the subsequent exaltation is proportionate to the antecedent humiliation. For the many, therefore, there may be many partial purgations, succeeded by partial exaltations, while for the few there is but one purgation, thorough in extent and intensity, and this is followed by what St. John calls a ‘transformation’ as complete as the previous cleansing. From what the present writer has gathered from lives of saints and biographies of saintly persons it would appear that this transformation is not as a rule postponed until the end of life, but occurs earlier. For man is created to labour in the vineyard of the Lord, and it would be strange if the Lord called away the workman just at the moment he becomes supremely fit for his work. What, then, happens to him during his subsequent career upon earth? It would seem that the overflowing sweetness, happiness, and bliss described in the Spiritual Canticle are taken away, or rather absorbed, while the vigour, the merit, the aptitude for frequent transient acts of union with God remain, or rather increase. Thus, further progress is possible; not, indeed, in the sense that a further and higher state could be reached, for there remains only one more state, namely that of perpetual union, reserved for the next life; but there may be an indefinite progress in the same state of transformation, for the soul is called to become like unto God, Who, being Himself infinite, must ever be infinitely above it, though it may go on for ever drawing nearer and nearer to Him. This last stage of the journey It would be a mistake to think that the point reached in the Spiritual Canticle marks the limit of the soul’s potentialities, and that, having reached this, nothing remains to be done but to rest and enjoy the gain. Not only has the soul now a wider scope for exterior work, being a perfect instrument in the hand of a perfect artist, but even its interior work or its co-operation with God must not cease for one moment. There must be no relaxation in self-denial. Though it be true that the preservation of a habit is easier than the acquiring thereof, there is great danger that slight neglect might lead to the loss of habitual self-renunciation. To this end the grace of perseverance is indispensable. St. Paul says: ‘Not as though I had already attained, or were already perfect, but I follow after, if I may by any means apprehend, wherein I am also apprehended by Christ Jesus’ (Phil. iii. 12). Nor are the trials peculiar to this stage lighter than those proper for the time of purgation, although they differ in kind. For there they served for the purpose of penance and mortification, while here they are a participation in the Passion of our Lord. ‘But if you partake in the sufferings of Christ,’ says St. Peter, ‘rejoice that when His glory shall be revealed, you may also be glad with exceeding joy’ (1 St. Pet. iv. 13). Hence the hunger and thirst for crosses and trials and ignominy for which many saints were remarkable. St. Teresa had reached the state described in the Seventh Mansion of the Interior Castle (which corresponds to that pictured in the Living Flame of Love) in 1577; and soon afterwards she told one of her companions that she did not consider it possible to advance farther in this life in the way of prayer, nor even to wish to do so. Yet the remaining five years of life brought her trials compared with which those of her earlier years were but as child’s play. St. John of the Cross is another instance. When writing the explanation of the Living Flame of Love he certainly recorded his own experience. Yet the keenest sufferings, particularly that of being ‘despised,’ especially by those to whose respect he was entitled in the highest degree, were reserved for the last years of his life. So far from striking an insensible, stoic soul, these tribulations are the lot of most refined, and therefore most sensitive, hearts, which revel in sufferings for the sake of the sanguis sponsi (Exod. iv. 25). a

In another way this last period differs also from that of the night of purgation. There the absence of heavenly visitations is an integral part of the trial. Here, there may be occasional seasons of desolation, but they alternate with prolonged periods of intimate companionship, more efficacious if less violent than during the time of spiritual exaltation. The Bridegroom may indeed hide his face, but His presence is nearly always felt. Like an ardent lover who bears the thought and remembrance of his beloved uppermost in his mind, the soul in this stage dwells continually on the thought of the Bridegroom. Such a state may continue for some years, but not for many; because this world being essentially imperfect, a soul that has reached the highest possible degree of perfection is out of place in it; and, besides, the Bridegroom will not leave it long in this exile, but hastens to unite it to Himself for evermore. What a fearful thought that there should be many who were called to fill the highest ranks of the heavenly hierarchy but who lacked the required generosity and courage in the initial stages, and forfeited thereby an everlasting crown.

St. John of the Cross wrote the treatise on the Living Flame of Love twice. Neither of the originals seems to be extant, but there are copies of each version: one in the library of the Carmelite Fathers at Alba de Tormes, and the other in the National Library at Madrid (No. 6,624). A third one, of less importance, belongs to the Carmelite Fathers at Burgos; this was copied in the eighteenth century from a manuscript belonging to the nuns of Palencia, but now lost. The second version differs greatly from the first, not in essentials but in innumerable details, showing how very carefully St. John wrote, weighing every word and every shade of expression, so as to convey his exact meaning. In this point, as in some others, he is the direct opposite of St. Teresa, who used to write incredibly fast, rarely perusing what she had written before, not even after a long interruption, and seldom revising her previous writings. Unfortunately the critical edition of the works of St. John, prepared in the eighteenth century by Fr. Andres de la Encarnacion, has never been published, and students still have to rely on the unsatisfactory text of the first editors. But there is every prospect that a thoroughly reliable edition will shortly appear; it is in the hands of competent scholars, who for several years have been collecting and collating the original manuscripts as well as the earliest and best transcripts, and who have already given proof of the thoroughness of their labours. We have been able to avail ourselves of their work in restoring a long and important passage which for some reason or other had been omitted in all former editions, Spanish as well as foreign.[3] The same editors announce also the recovery of many hitherto unpublished writings. Although eagerly expecting the publication of their work we did not dare to postpone the issue of this volume any longer, as many readers of the former manifested their impatience.

It is hoped that the new edition will contain valuable additions to the correspondence of the saint. The older editions contained but ten letters, the first by Mr. Lewis seventeen, the second, of which this is a reprint eighteen; but it would seem that further letters must be preserved in various places. Even so, his correspondence falls far short of that of St. Teresa; he had not the taste for sustained correspondence, and it evidently cost him much to commit his thoughts to paper; moreover, during the troubles in which he was involved during the greater part of his life, his letters were destroyed by the recipients for safety’s sake. Still, we may look forward to the results of a tardy gleaning.

The earlier editions contain a collection of a hundred Maxims culled from his writings (now partly lost or mislaid) and from his oral instructions. These have been augmented from his known works, and brought to the number of three hundred and sixty-three by Fray Antonio Arbiol, in the work Mystica Fundamental; or, El Religiose Perfecto, published at Madrid in 1761.

The poems are reprinted from Mr. Lewis’s second edition. In the first he gave the first three, that is, those which form the argument of the mystical treatises, in blank verse, as they occurred in the respective works. But in the second he added a rhymed and rhythmical version. The fourth poem is a glose on the words ‘I live and yet not I,’ on which St. Teresa, too, wrote two sets of verses. Since the appearance of Mr. Lewis’s second edition two more manuscripts of verses by St. John have been discovered, one at the National Library at Madrid (No. 6,296), and the other in the archives of the Carmelite nuns at Pampelona. Each contains three new poems which unmistakably bear marks of the spirit of the holy friar stamped on them.[4] They are published here in the elegant version prepared for this edition by the Benedictine nuns of Stanbrook.

One little treatise, entitled The Thorns of the Spirit, will be found in some of the Spanish editions of the works of St. John. It is also translated into French, but not into English. The revisers of the writings of the saint left the question of its authenticity open; the present writer is not acquainted with the external evidence for or against it, and can only form an opinion from internal criteria; it appears to him that the style and the manner of treating the subject-matter are very unlike the acknowledged works of St. John. It might be argued that circumstances of which we have no knowledge might have induced the author to adopt a style different from that of the rest of his works; but against this we feel bound to say that the whole spirit of the treatise is so far removed from what ‘we believe to have been the spirit of this great mystic that it would require very strong external evidence to make us admit the claim to authenticity. The work is divided into eight colloquies between the Spouse and the Bridegroom, and gives valuable instructions on mental prayer, frequent communion and various scruples. It is undoubtedly the work of a Carmelite confessor, and cannot but give consolation to afflicted souls, but in our opinion it bears no trace of the master-hand of St. John of the Cross. We have therefore refrained from including it among these volumes. BENEDICT ZIMMERMAN, Prior O.C.D.

January 6, 1912.

P.S.—Since this Introduction was written the first volume of the critical Spanish edition, containing a preliminary essay, the life of St. John, and the Ascent of Mount Carmel, has appeared under the title, Obras del Mistico Doctor San Juan de la Cruz, Edición crítica. By Fray Gerardo de San Juan de la Cruz. Toledo, 1912. B. Z. THE LIVING FLAME OF LOVE

Cited in the encyclopedia

Ascetical Theology · Contemplation · John of the Cross, Saint · Mysticism · Passive Purifications · Prayer (Ascetic)

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The Enciclopedia Cattolica 1948–1954 cited in 6 articles

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David Lewis (1814–1895), with an introduction by Benedict Zimmerman, London: Thomas Baker, 1919. Digital text: Internet Archive scan johnofthecross00johnuoft (University of Toronto), read with three OCR engines and corrected; a few misreadings may remain. Public domain in the US and Canada: published in 1919; the translator, David Lewis, died in 1895, and the reviser, Benedict Zimmerman, in 1937.

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