“In 1577, when St. John of the Cross was thirty-five years old, he was abducted by his own monastic brothers [who were opposed to his efforts to reform the Carmelite order] and incarcerated for nine months in a monastery in Toledo, Spain. It was there, as he languished, that the caterpillar of his old self dissolved and the butterfly of his authentic being grew its wings. . . .
“His prison cell, a stone room barely large enough for his body, had formerly been a latrine. His single robe rotted from his body in the fetid heat of summer, and in winter he shivered in the rag that remained. Several times a week, the brothers brought him out to be flogged while they enjoyed their midday meal. Otherwise, he sat in the darkness, tracking the stars through the single small window, high up in the wall of his cell. [...]
After months of mistreatment and torment, the Virgin Mary came to announce his deliverance:
- “Sweet Mary,” John replied, “forgive your servant, but I'm so weak, I can barely stand up. And I'm never left alone.”
- “You'll have strength,” she promised. “And the sleep of your jailers will not betray you.”
At the Virgin Mary's word, John's chest swelled with confidence and joy. Who can fail to believe a promise from the mouth of the Mother of God? Feeling an odd strength come over him, he dropped to his knees and bowed to his divine ally. When he raised his head, only he remained in the dungeon. Overwhelmed by the visit, he wept uncontrollably.
The next day, John spent tearing his cloaks to make a rope, and discreetly unscrewing the iron bolt from the dungeon lock. That same evening, a young monk brought him a plate full of food, worthy of a real meal. This young jailer, touched by the prisoner's patience and faith, had greatly sympathized with John during his captivity. Curiously, his name was John of Saint Mary.
On the night of August 17-18, everything happened just as the Blessed Virgin had foretold.
John of the Cross died on December 14, 1591 in Ubeda, Spain, after a long struggle for reform and against the slander of his enemies. He was canonized on December 27, 1726 by Benedict XIII and declared a Doctor of the Church two hundred years later by Pope Pius XI. His terrible captivity was the inspiration for some of the finest Christian mystical and spiritual writings.