Cloud of Unknowing

The Cloud of Unknowing is a 14th century mystical masterpiece, that for centuries has shown seekers how to connect to God through their hearts. Nobody knows who wrote this work, but when you delve into its pages, you get hints as to what kind of person the author was. Constant references to Plato and other intellectual writings indicate that he was well educated and well read. His modest and humble demeanor, along with his familiarity with religious subjects suggest he was a member of the clergy, probably a monk. .

An imaginary account
from the eyes
of the author

It was within the hallowed walls of this tranquil monastery that my journey towards understanding God unfolded. I was a young monk, driven by an insatiable thirst for divine knowledge that led me through the corridors of the intellect, only to encounter a formidable obstacle—a cloud of unknowing that obscured my path to God.

I devoted myself to the pursuit of understanding through the wisdom enshrined in ancient texts. The Bible, a sacred tapestry of teachings, and the philosophical revelations of Plato became my guides. With each page turned and every line deciphered, I hoped to unravel the mysteries that surrounded my understanding of the divine.

Yet, despite my relentless intellectual pursuit, I found myself standing before an impenetrable barrier—a cloud that seemed to mock my attempts to dissect the essence of God. The more I strained my mind, the denser the cloud became, leaving me in a state of spiritual frustration.

It was in the throes of this existential struggle that I stumbled upon a profound revelation. It came from the timeless biblical tale of Mary and Martha.

“Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching.

But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

Luke 10:38-42 (ESV)

Stained glass, St Andrew's Presbyterian church Toronto

In this narrative, I discerned a powerful lesson. Martha, embodying the intellect-driven pursuit of God, busied herself with tasks and understanding. Mary, in contrast, symbolized the heart's surrender, choosing to simply be in the presence of the divine, listening with a receptive spirit.

I grabbed my favorite quill, dipped it into the inkwell, and on a small parchment I wrote, “Now all rational creatures, angels and men alike, have in them, each one individually, one chief working power, which is called a knowing power, and another chief working power called a loving power; and of these two powers, God, who is the maker of them, is always incomprehensible to the first, the knowing power.? But to the second, which is the loving power, he is entirely comprehensible in each one individually; in so much that one loving soul of itself, because of love, would be able to comprehend him who is entirely sufficient, and much more so, without limit, to fill all the souls of men and angels that could ever exist.”

My newfound wisdom recognized that the essence of true connection with God lay not in the pursuit of intellectual understanding but in the profound act of listening with the heart. The cloud of unknowing that had thwarted my intellectual endeavors now dissipated by the dart of love, revealing a path paved with the simplicity of devotion and the richness of heartfelt communion.

Embracing the Mary-like approach, I delved deeper into contemplative prayer, allowing my heart to speak where words fell short. As I let go of the need for exhaustive comprehension, I discovered a profound sense of closeness to the divine—a closeness that transcended the limitations of human understanding.

The once daunting cloud of unknowing became a bridge, connecting the finite with the infinite. It was in embracing uncertainty, in acknowledging the limitations of human intellect, that I found a profound and intimate connection with the divine.

My journey echoed through the monastery, inspiring my fellow brethren to reevaluate their own quests for God. The intellectual pursuits of the past took a backseat to the simplicity of being present with the divine, mirroring the essence of Mary's contemplation.

While the Cloud of Unknowing doesn't provide a specific set of exercises in the way modern self-help books might, the author does offer general guidance on how to access the power of loving:

Let go thought

The Cloud of Unknowing suggests that contemplative prayer involves actively letting go of thoughts, images, and concepts. This is done in order to create a "cloud of forgetting" that separates the individual from intellectual understanding and draws them closer to a direct experience of God's love.

"And so I urge you, go after experience rather than knowledge. On account of pride, knowledge may often deceive you, but this gentle, loving affection will not deceive you. Knowledge tends to breed conceit, but love builds. Knowledge is full of labor, but love, full of rest."

Be patient

The author encourages an attitude of patient waiting and openness. Instead of actively seeking experiences or insights, the practitioner is asked to be receptive to whatever God may choose to reveal in the silence and stillness of contemplative prayer.

Be Sincere

The text emphasizes the importance of a deep and sincere desire for God. The practitioner is encouraged to cultivate a longing for God's presence, allowing this desire to fuel their prayer and draw them closer to the experience of divine love.

Simplicity

The author encourages simplicity in prayer, advising the use of a single, short word or phrase as a way to express one's intention to love and be in God's presence. This word is not meant to be repeated continuously but rather used as a touchstone to bring the wandering mind back to the focus on God.

“So as to have a better grasp of it, take just a little word, of one syllable rather than of two; for the shorter it is the better it is in agreement with this exercise of the spirit. Such a one is the word “God” or the word “love.” Choose which one you prefer, or any other according to your liking—the word of one syllable that you like best. Fasten this word to your heart, so that whatever happens it will never go away. This word is to be your shield and your spear, whether you are riding in peace or in war. With this word you are to beat upon this cloud and this darkness above you. With this word you are to strike down every kind of thought under the cloud of forgetting; so that if any thought should press upon you and ask you what you would have, answer it with no other word but with this one.”

I played around a lot with the single syllable prayer and found it to be a very enjoyable and adaptable way of practicing mindfulness. You can vary the tempo, for example, while walking

So, in the same way, you are to fill your spirit with the spiritual meaning of this word “sin,” but without concentrating on any particular kind of sin, whether venial or grievous: pride, anger or envy, covetousness, sloth, gluttony or lust.271 What does it matter to a contemplative what sin it is, or how great a sin it is? For it seems to him, during the time of this exercise, that every sin is as great as another, since the smallest sin separates him from God and is an obstacle to his inward peace.

So feel sin as a lump, never mind what it is, it is nothing else but yourself. Cry out spiritually, always with the same cry, “Sin, sin, sin’’; “out, out, out.” This spiritual cry is better taught by God by experience, rather than by the words of man. Its perfection consists in pure spirit, when there is no particular thought nor any word pronounced;?’? though it can happen occasionally that because of the fulness of spirit it bursts forth into words; for both body and soul are filled with sorrow and the heaviness of sin.

In Chapter 40, advises a contemplative who is struggling with sin to "[...] feel sin as a lump, you do not know what, but nothing other than yourself. And then shout continuously in spirit, 'Sin, sin, sin! out, out, out!' This spiritual shout is better learned from God by experience than from any human being by word."