The Cloud of Unknowing
What Can a Medieval Mystic Writer Teach us About Prayer?
This article is part of the Claritas spring 2022 issue, Flourishing. Read the full print release here.
By Savannah Caldwell
As scholars at an Ivy League university, we have a desire to know, research, discover, and invent. Scholarly work involves the formulation of questions or the identification of significant problems within a field, in search of answers and solutions.
As a PhD student in the field of Medieval Studies, my own research has often involved issues of devotion and affect in medieval Christianity. I have considered such questions as: what can late medieval prayer books tell us about the devotional practices of Christians in the Middle Ages? How do adaptations of the Biblical book of Job inform our understanding of emotion in medieval Christianity? How can medieval theories of cognition inform our interpretation of Christian allegories?
But as a Christian myself, I have often wondered to what extent I should translate my research—both in terms of my methodologies and the content of my studies—into my personal relationship with God. Should a Christian’s walk with God be led predominately by reason and logic, or by an experience that is predominantly affective, emotional, and sensory?
I have been fascinated with how writers in the Middle Ages wrestled with such questions, and by one text in particular which calls for a radical departure from all reason in our pursuit of God. This book, The Cloud of Unknowing, is an anonymous Middle English work thought to have been written by a Carthusian monk in the fourteenth century. It falls within the late medieval mystical tradition, along with the works of such writers as Julian of Norwich and Marguerite Porete.
The Cloud serves as a manual for how to live a contemplative lifestyle, which the author believes to be superior to an active one. While many of the aspects of the text are strange to a modern reader, I do think this work offers some fascinating considerations for our devotional lives, especially for young college students at a rigorous university. (And I could not help but take delight in the fact that he admits to being twenty-four years old, the age at which I myself read this text!)
At the core of the Cloud’s project is the author’s distinction between what he calls active and contemplative lives. In order to illustrate the difference between these two ways of life, the author uses the Biblical anecdote of Mary and Martha from Luke 10:38-42. He explains that “It is written in the Gospel of St Luke that when our Lord was in the house of Martha, while Martha was busying herself about the preparation of his food, her sister Mary was sitting at his feet. Listening to his words, she paid no attention to her sister’s busy service, even though that service was very good and very holy . . . she attended only to the supreme wisdom of his Godhead” (41).
Based on his exegesis of this story, then, the Cloud-author asserts that both the active life (as exemplified by Martha) and the contemplative life (demonstrated by Mary) are sacred, but he elevates the latter above the former. Moreover, despite the fact that “all actives criticize contemplatives” (42) as Martha criticized her sister, he encourages contemplatives to “pardon active persons for their critical words” and “pay little or no attention to what people have done or said about them” (44). In other words, he argues that those engaged in contemplative work should be so enraptured by God’s presence that they will not even take notice of those who reject and critique their lifestyles. What might it be like for those of us who are Christian students to adopt this “contemplative” mentality? What if our eyes were so focused on God that we did not worry about how our own lives looked compared with those of others?
The Cloud-author then explains what this contemplative work should look like in practice. He calls upon the reader to dwell in God’s presence, which he describes as being like a cloud. Despite the various Bible passages that associate God with light, he asserts that it is actually a clouding of one’s mind that allows one to reach God. He warns against letting thoughts of anything—even sacred subjects—enter one’s mind while engaging in this work; for this distracts from this “blind stirring of love towards God” (33) and “bare intention directed towards God for himself” (49). He says: “the outcome will be that when you most think . . . that nothing is in your mind but God alone, if you look truly you will find your mind not engaged in this darkness but in a clear sight of something lower than God” (32).
This notion is particularly poignant for us as Ivy League students; we are often distracted by so many demands on our time—many of which are actually good tasks in themselves—that we place these responsibilities above our devotional time with God. While we are often driven by a desire to be productive, perhaps contemplation is fruitful in a different way. We should work hard in our studies, but we may need to sacrifice some accolades and achievements if we prioritize time to spend in pure adoration of and devotion to God. But centering our hearts on our Creator fulfills us more than a career ever could. It is more rewarding than any award, internship, or external opportunity.
In order to excel in this work, the author gives several pieces of practical wisdom. He even encourages the reader to protect one’s health: “And so, for the love of God, guard against sickness as much as you reasonably can, so that, as far as you may, you are not the cause of your own weakness. For I tell you truly that this work demands the greatest tranquility, and a state of health and purity in body as much as in soul” (64). The writer highlights the interconnectedness of the body and soul; while we are temporal creatures on Earth, we must still wrestle with our corporeal infirmities and weaknesses. I find this notion to be especially pertinent for students, who often prioritize work and activities over our health, whether it be sleep, exercise, or proper nutrition. Even if we are not model contemplatives according to the Cloud-author’s paradigm, we should be mindful of our physical health in order to serve, worship, and represent God to our fullest capacities. In other words, not only can our busy schedules become a distraction from our relationship with God, but if we are not caring for our health, we will suffer both in our academics and in our walk with the Lord. We cannot flourish if we are burned out, exhausted, stressed, and weak.
The author gives the reader an unusual instruction: to choose a one-syllable word as an aid for contemplative work. He states: “If you want to have this intention wrapped and enfolded in one word, so that you can hold on to it better, take only a short word of one syllable; that is better than one of two syllables, for the shorter it is, the word GOD or the word LOVE . . . This word is to be your shield and spear, whether you ride in peace or in war. With this word you are to beat on the cloud and the darkness above you. With this word you are to hammer down every kind of thought beneath the cloud of forgetting” (29).
I find this instruction to be compelling, especially given that we as students in the twenty-first century are surrounded by abundant distractions that vie for our attention. Choosing a word that is as short and simple as one syllable but that also captures something precious to us is a powerful tool for anchoring our minds during prayer. Moreover, it intrigues me that he uses battle imagery; while contemplation might bear connotations of meditation and rest, we must also remember that prayer is a discipline. We can easily lose sight of the object of our prayer when we are stressed, tired, hungry, sad, or even joyful. Having a word or object to recall that directs our attention back on course is a practical strategy for strengthening our prayer life.
The author also anticipates objections that others might raise to his support for the contemplative lifestyle. For instance, one might assert that leaving this work behind is necessary to provide for one’s daily needs, but he states that “as he will answer on our behalf in spirit, so he will move others in spirit to give us the necessities of this life, such as food and clothes and everything else, if he sees that we are unwilling to leave the work of loving him in order to concern ourselves with such things” (48). This advice probably sounds quite radical to most modern readers, but I do find beauty in the Cloud-author’s faith in God’s provision, and his instruction is not completely unbiblical.
For in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus says, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 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 6:25-27). In verse 31, he adds, “But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things”—i.e., food, drink, and clothing—“will be given to you as well.” Though the way in which we “seek first God’s kingdom and his righteousness” must ultimately come down to personal conviction and discernment, making time simply to adore God and rest in His presence is a valuable endeavor even if it means sometimes pausing from our more “active” pursuits. Moreover, His command not to worry always remains whether we are seeking Him contemplatively or actively.
While my aim is not necessarily to promote “mysticism” as a whole, I believe that this text offers Christians even today some important considerations for our walk with the Lord. Knowledge of God, His Word, and His commands are crucial to our faith, but one important lesson that the text emphasizes is God’s agency even in our worship of Him.
At Cornell, our pursuit of knowledge is indeed significant, but perhaps there is utility in resting from our active lifestyles at times and pursuing such contemplative work. For those of us who are Christian, we often spend much of our valuable free time participating in church activities, joining fellowships, listening to podcasts, and attending worship nights and social events; while these are all incredible elements of our walk, perhaps we, like Martha, are too often “worried and upset about many things” (Luke 10:41). I believe that flourishing as a Christian student need not always look “active” to others; in fact, we would benefit from prioritizing time to spend alone in God’s presence and lifting up our hearts “with a humble stirring of love” toward Him (21).
This article appeared in Claritas’ Spring 2022 Flourishing Issue.
SOURCES
[1] The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works, tr. A. C. Spearing (New York: Penguin Classics, 2002).