Noble Unfaith & the Dark Moon: a Via Negativa Devotional

As the New Moon rises, we walk the Via Negativa releasing, making space, and the glory of seeking and revealing hidden wisdom.

Invocation

Holy One,
You who dwell in darkness deeper than night
and in light brighter than the sun,
draw us now into the mystery of Your love.

Strip us of our false certainties.
Unclench the fists of our knowing.
Teach us the holy restlessness of noble unfaith
to hunger and thirst for You without end,
to seek Your face even in the cloud of unknowing.

As the moon hides her light,
let the flame of longing rise in us.
As the heavens fall silent,
let the whisper of Your presence be heard in our hearts.

We come not asking for answers,
but for the courage to desire You more.
Amen.

The Sacred Moment

Today, the new moon veils the sky, cloaking the heavens in silence and shadow. May we feel the call to surrender, to sacred unknowing, to the holy hush that dwells beneath words. In the deep darkness of the New Moon, we walk the path of the Via Negativa: the way of release, of letting fall what no longer serves, of listening for the presence hidden in absence. Our souls ache not for answers, but for peace within the questions, for a love that meets us in the void.

This is a moon to release, to empty, to rest.

Theme: Noble Unfaith and the Dark Moon

The new moon, the Dark Moon, is a time when the sky strips itself bare. There is light to measure our steps. Only darkness, vast and immeasurable, invites us into the silence that waits before creation. This is the cloud of unknowing where beginnings stir but have not yet taken form. And it is here, in the night without light, that Hadewijch’s daring teaching of noble unfaith calls to us.

Unfaith is not despair. It is not the denial of God, nor the abandonment of belief. Noble unfaith is a refusal to let faith become a cage. It embraces our yearning for the Divine without demanding proof or binding Love to our categories or doctrines. Hadewijch herself says that noble unfaith “cannot rest so long as it does not conquer to the hilt.” It presses forward with restless desire, refusing to be sated by small certainties.

Our culture hates yearning, long, and unrequited desire. It trains us from childhood to seek security and cling to the idea that knowledge will shield us from pain. We are told that faith is secure and trust means certainty. We lie to ourselves that science and/or religion should quiet all our questions. But certainty is a trap. It is an illusion encouraging us to procrastinate and wait for a future certainty that never comes. In this life there are very few certainties, only things more or less probable. Worse still, the greatest and truest experiences of life, friendship, love, inspiration, never offer us certainty and cannot. There is no way to know if someone really loves us.

The writer of Hebrews reminds us that, “faith is being certain of what we hope for, proof of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1 WEB). This is not certainty of possession but certainty of yearning. It is a witness to the unseen, a trust that our hunger is not in vain. Hadewijch’s noble unfaith takes us even deeper: it asks us not to cling to the satisfaction of faith itself, but to remain open, restless, unmoored, so that yearning can expand without end.

In the dark of the moon, we can feel this truth in our bones. There is no light to reassure us, no shape to guarantee where the path will lead. We are invited to walk anyway. The Psalmist cries out, “Deep calls to deep at the noise of your waterfalls. All your waves and your billows have swept over me” (Psalm 42:7 WEB). This is the sound of noble unfaith: the depths of our longing calling to the depths of God, wave answering wave, neither side content to rest in the shallows.

To live in noble unfaith is to live in desire unfulfilled. We reject the illusion that in this life we will encounter the fullness of the Divine. We reject the notion that our dogmas or rituals can contain the Eternal. We refuse to let faith harden into possession, or to act as though the Infinite could be mastered. Instead we embrace the spacious yearning that becomes our guide, the inner light that burns even in the darkest night.

The Dark Moon reveals this secret. In the absence of light, we discover a greater illumination: the fierce glow of longing itself. Jesus said, “Blessed are those who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled” (Matthew 5:6 WEB). But the filling is not final; it is not possession. It is a taste that awakens deeper thirst, a sip that kindles stronger desire. To hunger and thirst is itself blessed, because in the yearning we are closest to the Divine.

Hadewijch calls us to be unsatisfied, to resist the temptation of resting in faith as an accomplishment. Noble unfaith keeps us awake, burning, restless. It is the refusal to say, “I have found the answer,” when the truest questions can never be answered. It is the discipline of letting go of the illusions of completion, and instead embracing the love that always outpaces us.

At the new moon, we enter this discipline willingly. We let the night strip us of certainty. We accept that our prayers may remain unanswered, that our visions may stay veiled, that our path will not be lit in advance. And in that surrender, we awaken to the fierce joy of longing itself. The cloud of unknowing does not conceal an absence; it conceals an abundance so vast it can never be possessed.

Paul writes, “Now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I will know fully, even as I was fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12 WEB). Noble unfaith is the courage to remain in the “now,” in the dim mirror, trusting that the longing itself is the bond between the known and the Unknown. To be restless is to be alive. To yearn is to be drawn forward into the very heart of God.

So let us enter the dark moon with passion. Let us cherish the night sky that hides its light, for in that hiding, desire awakens. Let us refuse the easy comfort of false certainty. Let us embrace noble unfaith and refuse to stop longing.

And when the moon is dark and the heavens silent, let us feel the flame of yearning rise in us like a secret dawn. For in that yearning, in that endless hunger, Love is already at work.

Practice

Entering the Silence

Find a quiet place where the night feels close, ideally beneath the dark sky or in a dimly lit room. Close your eyes and take three slow, deep breaths. With each breath, imagine the light fading until only the vast, immeasurable darkness of the new moon surrounds you.

Embracing the Yearning

Bring your attention to your heart. Notice its restlessness, its hunger, its unspoken desires. Do not try to fill them. Simply allow them to rise, wave after wave. As the Psalmist sang, “Deep calls to deep.” Let the depth within you cry out to the depths of God.

Resting in Noble Unfaith

Say quietly, or hold in your heart:

“My yearning is enough.”

Allow the words to linger in the silence. Feel how the hunger itself glows like an ember, warming you even in the dark.

Closing in Praise

When you are ready, lift your face toward the unseen moon. Offer this final prayer:
“Blessed are those who hunger and thirst, for they shall be filled.
Let me never stop hungering.
Let me never stop thirsting.
For in my unfaith, I remain faithful to Love.”

Sit a few breaths longer in silence, then rise gently, carrying the flame of longing into your night.

Closing Blessing

Lover of our souls,
in this dark night we have tasted the sweetness of longing.
Keep our hearts restless for You,
never satisfied with half-truths or easy answers.

When shadows return,
let the ember of yearning burn within us.
When silence deepens,
let us trust that Your Love is already at work.

We go now not with certainty,
but with desire renewed,
carrying the secret dawn of Your presence
into the waiting world.

Amen.