Editor’s note: “The Spiritual Life with Fr. James Martin, S.J.,” is a new podcast from America Media that focuses on how people experience God in their prayer and their daily lives. To accompany each episode, Father Martin will reflect on the experience and offer practical advice on a few spiritual themes. You can listen to all episodes of “The Spiritual Life” here.
One of the many graces of being a delegate to the Synod on Synodality at the Vatican in 2023 and 2024 was the experience of meeting some remarkable church leaders—and more fundamentally, some fellow believers, some fellow Catholics and some fellow Christians. Among the most memorable was Archbishop Charles Jason Gordon of Port of Spain in Trinidad and Tobago, who, I would later discover, is known to many as “Archbishop J.” The friendly moniker would be no surprise to anyone who has met the archbishop; he is open, affable and welcoming, and his face is often wreathed in a big smile. But he is much more than that: He is a wise, learned and thoughtful prelate (with a Ph.D. from Heythrop College at the University of London); he is also committed to the poor, to the tenets of social justice and to putting himself on the line when necessary. In his home country, Archbishop Gordon is known for his advocacy for those on the margins and his efforts to confront gang violence through peacemaking and reconciliation.
This week on “The Spiritual Life,” we discuss his journey of faith, from his Catholic upbringing in the Caribbean to his experiences with charismatic renewal and his ultimate calling to the priesthood.
At times, as I shared with him, I felt like I was talking to a Jesuit because of his easy and expert use of so many Ignatian terms. (I wasn’t surprised when he told me about his Jesuit spiritual directors and retreats.) Not everyone can speak so easily about St. Ignatius’ “Principle and Foundation” and how it can inform one’s relationship with God.
The archbishop also emphasized the importance of understanding the ups and downs of the spiritual life and how these ups and downs can help younger people transition to an adult faith.
But perhaps the most compelling part of our conversation was his description of an extended period during which he felt a sense of “desolation,” or darkness in his prayer life, before eventually experiencing a profound reawakening.
This may raise two questions for listeners. First, what is desolation? And second, how does God work to get us “out” of it? The definition of desolation is notoriously slippery. It is not simply a period of dryness in prayer, which is common to everyone. Simply because you sat down one morning and didn’t feel much in prayer is not a sign that you are in desolation. That may simply be regular, day-to-day or week-to-week dryness. Nor is it depression. Desolation is not simply feeling sad. You can be quite sad (say, after the death of a loved one) and still feel a powerful sense of God’s presence in your prayer. So what is it? In an article for America called “The Seven D’s of the Spiritual Life” (that is, darkness, dryness, desolation, doubt, disbelief, depression and despair), I offered this definition, building on insights from St. Ignatius:
Desolation is feeling God’s absence coupled with a sense of hopelessness. St. Ignatius Loyola describes it as an obtuseness of soul, turmoil within it, an impulsive motion toward low and earthly things, or a disquiet from various agitations and temptations. It is more than feeling dejected or sad. Desolation is often confused with simply feeling bad, says [William A. Barry, S.J.]. But it’s more accurate to say it is a feeling of estrangement from God.
Thus, you feel an extended period of God’s absence, which is what Archbishop Gordon describes feeling for a long time—16 years. An even longer stint came for St. Teresa of Calcutta, who, after a mystical experience in which she heard the voice of Jesus calling her to work with the poor, suffered from a desolation that lasted decades, until her death. (The revelation of Mother Teresa’s “dark night of the soul” is what prompted the article on the “Seven D’s.”) This leads us to our second question: How does God get us “out” of it? Sitting at the funeral of Cardinal Basil Hume, O.S.B., Archbishop Gordon describes, quite beautifully, a kind of awakening.
“There was an integration that started to happen because the light switch went back on, and the world became huge and wonderful and textured and rich,” he told me.
Sometimes, the desolation simply ends, and one can sense God’s presence again in prayer. But when the healing happens is up to God. St. Ignatius suggests that one “reason” for desolation might be to test our faith, in a sense. After all, if we were always flooded with a sense of God’s presence, there would be little need for faith! But that explanation limps when you consider extended periods of desolation, as in the lives of Archbishop J and Mother Teresa.
Maybe a more important question is: What should a person do when it happens to them? In my experience, the most helpful avenue is to look for signs of God’s presence in your daily life. If you’re not feeling God interiorly, look for God exteriorly.
About 20 years ago, I met a kind and soft-spoken bishop who served, as a few other bishops did, as one of Mother Teresa’s spiritual directors. During her own long “dark night,” she lamented to this bishop (who was sympathetic to her plight) that she simply didn’t experience God in her prayer any longer. And she wondered what to do. Just then, a small boy ran up and wrapped his arms around her and said, “Mother Teresa, I love you!” The bishop pointed to the boy and said, “Don’t forget to notice God there, too!”
The actions of grace are often hard to understand. Why God seemingly removes a feeling of his presence in prayer (assuming one is not just being lazy and not praying) and why God restores it is mysterious. Usually, if one is patient, as Archbishop J was (continuing to pray and look for God as he did), these periods end. But until they do, finding God in our daily lives—instead of only looking for God in our prayer—is a helpful response, whether you’re an archbishop, a saint or just a regular old Christian, like me.
