"People who know St. John of the Cross only superficially..."

... may consider his spirituality to be predominantly negative. That there is a prominent sacrificial element is true, just as there is in the Gospel. But what is not sufficiently understood is that in both John and the Gospel the negative is never sought for itself, and that the positive overwhelmingly predominates. That this is so we will consider in its proper place, but it may be well to note here that this man had an exceptionally affirmative, optimistic vision of both the human person and the divine plan. Even his nada doctrine was entirely aimed at reaching an enthralling immersion in God. The sanjuanist optimism can be seen, for example, in his portrayal of all creation as a resplendent bride given by the Father to the Son: "I will hold her in My arms and she will burn with Your love, and with eternal delight she will exalt Your goodness .... By these words the world was created, a palace for the bride." It would be difficult to find in all of literature a more jubilant, a more positively ecstatic outlook on creation and the human person within it. The critics of John seem not to read this far or else not to absorb what he says. Optimism is found everywhere in the saint's writings, even in the most stark sections on detachment and self-denial. Always he invites the reader to an entire enthrallment, an abiding joy beyond imagining.

St. John of the Cross did not seem to excel in speaking to large groups of people with the effectiveness of a John Chrysostom or a Francis of Assisi, but he did have a powerful gift for relating to individuals and small groups in informal chats. Peers tells us that while he could easily be missed and passed over in a crowd, "once seen and spoken to alone, [he] could never be forgotten". This charism, together with his uncommon grasp of the interior life, readily explains his popularity as a spiritual director. He was much sought after in this capacity by all sorts of people: laymen and laywomen, nuns, university students and their professors. His insights into Scripture were so well known and appreciated that professors at the university in Baeza consulted him to learn of these "new" explanations of the biblical word.

On the natural level it appears that John's greatest talent was his poetic genius. The Spanish scholars I have met and read are agreed that he is probably the greatest poet in the Spanish language. Kavanaugh and Rodriguez write that the saint is known as "the loftiest poet of Spain", not because of volumes upon volumes of verse but because of a mere handful often to twelve compositions. They add that "these compositions, however, display such variety that it can almost be affirmed that each of them represents a completely distinct poetic vision and technique, a singular accomplishment in Spanish literature". ...

However, as is the case with any man or woman, the most important thing about St. John of the Cross was not what he did but what he was. Sheer sanctity was his paramount trait. This man was on fire, utterly absorbed in God. He experienced ecstatic prayer even though he said almost nothing about the subject (because "Madre Teresa" had already so well said all that needed to be said about it), and he reached the transforming union while still a young man. The saint was capable of an absorption during meals such that he could not recall what he had eaten-much like St. Thomas Aquinas, who provided his own anesthetic for bleeding by the simple procedure of going into contemplative prayer.

As we would expect, John's transformation into the divine (understood, of course, in a nonpantheistic sense) showed itself in his active caring for others. The dire poverty of the nuns at the Incarnation convent while he was their confessor so touched his heart that he went out to beg alms for them, and he made a point of seeking delicacies for the ill. When his own friars were sick, the saint gave them exquisite care. If one of them had no appetite, John would suggest kinds of food he might like and then procure them immediately. He would rise at night to check on the welfare of an ill confrere even when another friar had volunteered or been appointed to watch at the bedside. We know that he had a special love for the nuns at Beas, and he showed it at least once by walking several miles out of the way to visit them. This affection appears likewise in letters addressed to them. In one he remarks how they will know from his coming visit that he has by no means forgotten them, and he refers to "the beautiful steps you are making in Christ, whose brides are His delight and crown". Further on he speaks to them as "my beloved daughters in Christ", and in another he assures them that their letter to him was a great comfort.  In still another he strives to lighten the burden of pain in one of these Beas nuns: "Do not think, daughter in Christ, that I have ceased to grieve for you in your trials and for the others who share in them."

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For more by the late Fr. Dubay about St. John of the Cross, listen to the audio of his EWTN series on the great Saint and Doctor.