Saint Paul of the Cross—Spiritual Darkness

He couldn’t feel God for 40 years—but never gave up. A story of faith that stayed strong even in silence.

It happened in the early 1700s, in northern Italy—a time of quiet towns, simple faith, and people searching for meaning after war and loss. In that setting lived Paul Danei, who would later be known as Saint Paul of the Cross.

Paul was only 19 when his life changed. He started to feel a deep love and sadness whenever he thought about the Passion of Christ—how Jesus suffered out of love. That feeling became his mission.

At first, he thought serving God meant becoming a soldier. He even joined a crusade for a short time but later realized that fighting with weapons wasn’t what God wanted from him. He left that life behind and decided to serve through prayer and preaching instead.

By the time he was 26, Paul began writing rules for a new group he wanted to form—a community focused on remembering and sharing the message of the Cross. This became the Passionist Congregation. But around this same time, something painful began: a long period of spiritual darkness.

For more than 40 years, Paul went through a kind of silence from God. He kept praying, fasting, and helping others, but inside, he felt nothing—no peace, no inspiration, no sign that God was listening. Still, he refused to give up. Every day, he continued his mission, believing that faith is real even when you can’t feel it.

He taught that love for God isn’t about emotions but about staying faithful even in silence. People who listened to him were moved, even though he himself didn’t feel anything spiritual at the time.

When Paul died at 81, he left behind a strong community of Passionists who carried on his mission. His long years of darkness didn’t destroy him—they made his faith unshakable.

🕯 What Is “Spiritual Darkness”?

This experience—called spiritual darkness or dryness—is something that only deep contemplatives like priests, monks, and mystics often describe. It’s not depression or lack of belief. It’s when the feeling of God’s presence disappears, even if the person still believes.

I just did some research to understand it better, and scholars say it’s common among people who spend most of their lives in deep prayer. Ordinary people usually feel God’s presence through kindness, beauty, or small everyday moments. But for mystics like Saint Paul of the Cross, their faith happens deep inside—so when that inner feeling goes quiet, it can be confusing and heavy for a long time.

Even if we don’t experience mystical silence like he did, we all go through moments when life feels empty or unanswered. During those times, we can remember that faith isn’t about constant emotion—it’s about continuing to love, to care, and to believe in goodness.

When we see kindness, when we show compassion, or when we choose peace instead of anger—that’s where God’s presence quietly lives.

Maybe some people feel God in visions. Some, in silence. But most of us—just in each other.

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ

Traces of courage, silence, and sacrifice—this is Saints.

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Saints John de Brébeuf, Isaac Jogues, and Companions—The Canadian Martyrs

Eight Jesuits crossed an ocean for love and faith—and found Heaven through fire in the wild lands of early Canada.

In the early 1600s, eight Jesuit missionaries left France for a land of cold rivers and endless forests—with only courage and the Cross. John de Brébeuf, Isaac Jogues, Gabriel Lalemant, Charles Garnier, Noël Chabanel, Antoine Daniel, René Goupil, and John de Lalande.

They lived among the Huron people, peaceful farmers who welcomed them as friends. The missionaries learned their language, helped the sick, and shared their food. Because of their long black cassocks, the people called them “black robes.”

But nearby lived the Iroquois tribes, strong warriors and old enemies of the Hurons. When war broke out, the Iroquois thought the black robes were spies. Then disease spread through villages, and some blamed the missionaries, thinking their prayers and crosses brought bad luck.

Isaac Jogues and René Goupil were captured by the Mohawk, part of the Iroquois. Goupil was killed for making the Sign of the Cross. Jogues escaped to France but returned—knowing he might die. When he came back with John de Lalande, both were killed, accused again of bringing sickness.

In the north, John de Brébeuf and Gabriel Lalemant were tortured and burned but never denied their faith. Antoine Daniel died protecting his people at the altar. Charles Garnier was shot while helping the wounded, and Noël Chabanel was murdered by a man he once trusted.

They never fought back. They forgave. Between 1642 and 1649, all eight gave their lives for love that refused to hate.

Now they are called the North American Martyrs, men who entered a land of fear and left it shining with peace.

⌨ ᴛʸᵖⁱⁿᵍ ᴏᵘᵗ ᵒᶠ ᵗʰᵉ ʙˡᵘᵉ ᵈᵃʳᵉᵐ ᵐᵘˢⁱᶜ ᵇˡᵒᵍ

Traces of courage, silence, and sacrifice—this is Saints.

Listen on Apple Music, Apple Music Classical, and YouTube Music