Recently the world news has focused attention on the passing of Pope Francis, whose death followed a 12-year ministry as head of the Roman Catholic Church. Though not a Catholic, I found Pope Francis to be an interesting and inspiring Christian leader. I appreciated his humble posture and more open stance on issues, as well as his generosity toward all people.
Not too long ago I read his biography “Life: My Story Through History”. In this book Francis referenced a two-year period of ministry he referred to as a “dark night”. This occurred in the 1990’s when he was removed from his position as a provincial of the Jesuit order in Argentina and sent to a rural parish. It was something of an exile which he called his “dark night of the soul” and a “great interior crisis”. Pope Francis did not offer much more than those comments on these two years of his remarkable life, but they clearly formed and shaped him. According to some he emerged from that time a kinder, humbler person; like the one who was so fondly remembered over the past days.
This is what can take place as a result of enduring what in spiritual terms is often called the “dark night of the soul”. The phrase is attributed to Saint John of the Cross, a 16th Century Spanish Carmelite friar and mystic who wrote a poem by that title. By definition, such an experience is “a period of spiritual desolation in which all sense of consolation is removed.” Plainly put, the dark night is a difficult, painful period in one’s life.
I suspect that many, if not most, spiritual leaders go through their own version of a dark night at some point. It might be a particularly difficult time of ministry during which your leadership is questioned, or you are questioning your call or faith. Dark nights can be self-imposed or just creep up on you. They are not limited to those in leadership. Any Christ follower can be susceptible to a dark night where there are more questions than answers and more silence than affirmations.
My own experience with this is still fresh. In the later part of 2022 I made a ministry transition, leaving a pastorate of fifteen years for another opportunity. Looking back, I can see that while I was correct that it was time to step away from that pastorate, the call that I pursued was of my own forcing. In other words, I pursued a job that was not a good fit, bringing on my own dark night experience. There was some arrogance and willfulness in my saying “yes” to that call, and I regret any pain or confusion it may have caused. I left that position after just three months.
What ensued was a very lonely time of introspection. The dark night followed me and, if I’m honest, endured another couple of years. I did not question my faith, but I did face the humbling experience of facing my failure and self-induced disappointment. There’s something about falling on your face that is humiliating. When you do in front of an audience of your peers, including those who questioned your decision and would probably like to say “I told you so” – that is truly mortifying. But, if you can dust off the humiliation and swallow your pride, so as to engage in the emptying work of prayer and formation, good can come from the void of silence and darkness.
Throughout my own dark night experience God continued to place opportunities of service before my path that have resulted in a reaffirmation of my call and gifts. I would call these opportunities part of my formation or re-formation. Hopefully they have caused me to be a gentler, kinder version of myself.
From time to time I have a flashback to my dark night days, feeling the emotions and disappointment of that time anew. Thankfully these experiences are becoming fewer and less frequent. But I think they remain as a means of my not forgetting the work God seeks to do in and through me today.
It’s a bit daunting to write about this from such a personal place of discovery, but I do so in hope that it may speak to someone else. If you are in that proverbial dark night place, please know that you are not alone. Many, maybe most, others have been or are there too. It’s not the end of things. There is a repeated theme in the Bible of wilderness. Jesus spent time in the wilderness, and Israel labored there. Why should we expect to avoid it? The important thing is not that we were in exile, but that we emerge from it – strengthened, changed, and open to continue in God’s grace and love.
© Daniel M. Cash 2025
If you are interested in reading or listening to more of my work, I offer a podcast called “The Cash cache” through Substack that features many of my stories and reflections written over the years in my own voice.
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