Follow Jesus

To follow Jesus is to be
Possessor of  His  inward state;
His  truth, His love, His purity,
And all that made Him good and great.

To follow Jesus is to take
The yoke of the great Father's will;
And friends and earthly good forsake,
The Father's purpose to fulfill.

To follow Jesus is to go
The bloody way of Calvary's cross,
If that can ward oppression's blow,
And save humanity from loss.

Oh, be it ours to be like Him;
Our thought, our purpose, and our prayer;
And thus the crown, that grows not dim,
Of the great "Eider Brother" share.

— Christ in the Soul  LXXXV.

The Hidden Life

"Set your affection on things above, not on things on the earth. For ye are dead, and your life is hid with Christ in God." — Col 3.2, 3.

My life is folded in the life of Jesus,
No longer mine, but purchased by that tide,
That crimson tide, which shed on Calvary, frees us
From those dark stains that in our hearts abide.
MY LIFE IS HID WITH CHRIST and I am His.
Whate'er his will, that am I bound to do;
If He doth call me to far lands and seas,
I hear his summons, and his steps pursue.
Where'er He goes, I cannot stay behind;
In what He does, my hand shall have employ;
Whene'er He suffers, sorrow fills my mind;
When He rejoices, I partake the joy.
He bought me by his blood, and I am his;
I have no other will, no other grief nor bliss.

— The Religious Offering  XXVIII.

The Land of Rest

"Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then I would flee away and be at rest." — Ps. 66. 6.

There is no quietude in mortal life,
But, like the fretful and imperious sea,
Whose angry surges heave incessantly,
'Tis toss'd and driven with eternal strife.
Oh when, oh when, shall a deliverance rise
To him, who feels the ceaseless war within
Of truth with falsehood, holiness with sin?
Alas! 'Tis not on earth, but in the skies.
'Tis there we find, and only there, a rest,
Never attained, and never known before;
'Tis there sweet peace shall soothe the weary breast,
And songs re-echo from that happy shore.
Then murmur not, but from the future borrow
Assured hope of joy, to crown this life of sorrow.

— The Religious Offering  XXVII.

Forgiveness

Let men of hatred aim the blow;
And point the cruel, jealous dart;
I will not fear, if I can know,
The power of Love's forgiving art.

Oh God! Be Thou that living power;
Make Thou my soul with pity strong;
That, in the sad and hostile hour,
Forgiving love may conquer wrong.

They smite; but grant that in return
My heart may seek to do them good;
And with its strongest impulse yearn
To show its love and brotherhood.

In vain is all their angry strife,
If God the mighty love hath given,
Which makes the soul's immortal life,
And conquers hate with power from heaven.

 — Christ in the Soul  LXXMV.

Married to the Savior

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Reference to the renewed and entire consecration which she had made of herself in the year 1670. This act of consecration reduced to writing and signed for the first time, July 22d, 1672. Instrumentality of Genevieve Granger in this transaction. Form of this consecrating act or spiritual marriage covenant. Remarks. Dangers connected with a journey taken at this time. Reflections upon it

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We have already had occasion to notice, that in the latter part of the year 1670, more than a year and a half previous to the period of which we are now speaking, she had anew given herself to God, in great sincerity, and, as it seemed to her, without any reserve. By a solemn act, to which God himself was a party, she had placed herself on the altar of sacrifice, “the altar which sanctifies the gift,” — never more to be taken from it. She had left herself with God, both in doing and suffering; and whatever might take place in the fulfilment of his will, she could never wish it to be otherwise. In all the trials to which he had seen fit to subject her, no whisper of complaint, no word of murmur, had ever escaped her lips. But it is worthy of notice, that she had not as yet committed her religious purposes to the formality of a written record. At least, we have no mention of any such thing. It was a mental purpose, communicated to Him who is emphatically MIND; a simple transaction between her soul and God, of which God alone was the witness. It was possible, however, that she might forget, that she might be faithless. There were yet many and heavy trials before her.

The Death of Her Father and Her Daughter

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Incidents of 1672. Presentiment of her father’s death. A message reaches her soon after with the news of his last sickness. His death. Remarks. Affectionate eulogium on her daughter.  Her sickness and death.

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Thus passed the year 1671. I am particular in the periods of time, so far as I am able to ascertain them, which is not always easy to be done. And the reason is, that by connecting the dealings of God and the progress of the inward life with specific times and situations, the mental operation is aided, and we can hardly fail to have a clearer idea of the incidents which are narrated. Another year had now opened upon her, and found her renewedly consecrated to God, and growing wiser and holier through the discipline of bitter experience. Her trials had been somewhat less in this year than in the preceding, but still they were not wholly suspended. And as God designed that she should be wholly his, there were other trials in prospect, which were designed to aid in this important result. We proceed, therefore, in our narrative, with such incidents and facts as we are able to gather from the sources of information found in her own writings and in the writings of some of her contemporaries, which remain to us.

Inward Quietness as a Spiritual Test

In the Christian grace [of inward quietness] which we have been considering, we find one of the most decisive and most satisfactory tests of religious character.

True religion is a thing, not fragmentary but continuous, not coming and going at separated and distant intervals, but existing always, moment by moment. It is obvious, therefore, that we need a test of religious character which is perpetual; one which is a permanent, ever living, and ever present expression of what exists within. Quietness of spirit, which shows itself so distinctly in the countenance and the outward manner, and which adjusts itself in all its acts so beautifully to the relations and the reciprocal duties of man with man, furnishes this test.

Quietness and Prayer

Quietness of spirit is especially favorable, and to some extent it is indispensable to a state of prayer. 

Prayer is not a demand, but a request, a petition; it is essential, therefore, to its very nature, that it should recognize the divine supremacy. He, who prays aright, always and necessarily says, THY WILL BE DONE. Who would presume to approach the throne of God, and to offer up his requests there, without feeling and without expressing the feeling, that God’s will should rule? And yet it is very obvious, that the man, who is discontented and rebellious in spirit, just so far as he is so, fails in this important and indispensable feeling. 

When people lament, as they often do and as they often have occasion to do, that their prayers are so inefficacious, would it not be well for them to inquire whether they have that resigned, peaceable, and acquiescent spirit in view of God’s character and dealings, which is so indispensable to the state of acceptable prayer? Some persons, who creditably sustain their claims to the character of Christians in many respects, fail here. They are willing to speak openly and freely for God on appropriate occasions; they sustain their professions and declarations by their contributions and alms; they would not hesitate a moment to undergo bonds and imprisonments in support of the truth; and at the same time, with an inconsistency almost unaccountable, they often, very often, exhibit a clouded brow and a restless, unquiet temper under those common dispensations, which characterize every day and every hour. The amount of this evil is incalculable. It is here, without looking further, that they may often find the worm in their bud of promise; the secret canker that consumes their flower of hope.

 — from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13.

Quietness is Sustained by God's Commands

[The grace of inward quietness] is sustained by faith in God’s commands; that is to say, by a belief, that they are true, that they are reasonable, that they ought to be obeyed, and that they cannot be disobeyed without danger. 

The man of true faith and strong faith feels, that the command, FRET NOT THYSELF, and others like them are as binding upon us, as any other commands which are admitted to be of the most solemn and imperative nature. Immense is the error and the evil, which has arisen from man’s attempting to make distinctions, where they ought not to be made. The sin of an unquiet or fretful spirit is not the same, it is true, with other sins; but the obligation, which attends the command not to indulge in such a sin, is the same. No man can knowingly violate such an obligation, although it relates to a matter which the world is very apt to designate as of small consequence, without showing that his heart is not right with God. 

Wherever God’s command is, no matter how small the thing is to which the command relates, obedience must follow. Otherwise sin lies at the door. The man of faith, deeply realizing this, feels himself bound by that sacred and paramount obligation which God’s command always carries with it, to guard against the least impatience, the least unquietness of spirit. Bound by the command, supported by the promise, with his heart filled with love, and added to all this, meeting God as it were face to face in his providences, he understands the import of those delightful expressions; “They, that trust in the Lord, shall be as mount Zion, which cannot be removed, but abideth forever. As the mountains are round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round about his people from henceforth, even forever.” Psalm 125:1, 2.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13

Quietness is Sustained by God's Promises

The grace of quietness of spirit is sustained by faith in God’s promises. The man of true faith is very far from considering the afflictions of God’s people the same thing with their being cast off and rejected. On the contrary, relying on God’s promises, he has not a doubt, that their trial will in due season be changed into redemption, and their mourning into victory. Abraham had his long day of trial; but his hopes deferred were ultimately satisfied and made rich in the gift of Isaac, “the son of promise.” The patriarch Joseph endured the severe trial of his faith in exile and imprisonments and in false accusations; but at length, in the language of the author of the Mute Christian, “he changed his iron fetters into chains of gold, his rags into royal robes, his stocks into a chariot, his prison into a palace.” David also was afflicted in his youth; but was victorious in age. He, who dwelt in caverns and made his pillow upon a rock, was at last seated upon the throne of Israel. Once the humble keeper of his father’s sheep, and known only in the solitudes of his native vallies, he became, in God’s time, the shepherd and ruler of a mighty people; great in his renown, great in his achievements, and greater still in being able to bear testimony to the favor and faithfulness of God. The man of faith understands this. He knows it all. It is written in letters uneffaceable on the centre of his heart. And is it strange, therefore, marking as he does the bow of promise in the dark cloud that overhangs him, that he should be resigned and quiet in spirit? “The steps of a good man,” says the Psalmist, “are ordered by the Lord; and he delighteth in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down, for the Lord upholdeth him with his hand.”

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13.

The Basis of Inward Quietness is Faith

The basis of this remarkable and interesting state of mind [that is, inward quietness] is FAITH. 

In the first place, it is faith, operating by love. That is to say, a faith in the character of God, which results in the restoration of love to God. Those, who believe God, love God; those, who believe him much, love him much; those, who believe perfectly, love perfectly. The sequence of love to faith, both in fact and degree, is not a mere matter of arbitrary choice or volition; but may rather be regarded as the result of a permanent and unchangeable law, a law which is true now and true always, which exists on earth and exists every where else. 

And we may add, that those, who love God as they ought to love him, cannot love other things otherwise than they ought to. The love of God in the heart, existing in accordance with the commandment, viz., thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, cannot fail to bring every desire, every affection, which has relation either to ourselves or to others, into subjection. Every desire, every affection, every tendency of our nature which is susceptible of a moral character, resumes, from that memorable moment, its true position. And when order is thus restored to the mind, by the reduction of every thing to its proper place, quietness of spirit exists and prevails as a necessary result. It is true it is no common love, which can effect this; and consequently it is no common degree of faith which gives rise to such love. But a grace so eminent as that of true quietness of spirit cannot be expected to exist where faith is weak.

In the second place, the grace of quietness of spirit is sustained by faith in God’s providences; or perhaps we should say more specifically, by faith in God’s presence in his providences. We have already had occasion to refer to this great practical doctrine, that, in the succession of God’s providences, God himself is hidden in the bosom of every event. He is there, although he is not always seen. He is there to watch and control, if he is not there to originate. So that we can truly say, that no event in his providence happens, without bringing God with it, and without laying his hand upon us. The man of faith, therefore, knows, (and he cannot know it without bringing it home to his own case,) that he, who is impatient with events, is impatient with God; he who frets at events frets at God; he, who is not acquiescent in events, is at war with God. In such a position he cannot, he dare not place himself.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13.

Quietness Disturbed: Quietness in Semblance

Quietness of spirit is sometimes disturbed by our desires and efforts to do good. The danger from this source is undoubtedly less imminent than that from some other sources. It is true, however, that it really exists. Truly pious persons sometimes defeat their own object and do considerable injury by permitting the suggestions of grace to be controlled by the unbelieving zeal of nature, instead of being chastened and regulated by the oversight of grace added to grace. 

We admit that from time to time we meet with something, which looks like quietness of spirit, with something which is a semblance of it; which, nevertheless, has no foundation in the true and sanctified adjustment of the inward state. The inactivity of nature, to which we have reference in making this remark, is a very different thing, both in its origin and its manifestations, from the calm rest of grace. 

Natural quietude is the result of darkness; spiritual quietude is the child of light. The one does nothing, because it is too indolent and too selfish to do any thing, and its rest, therefore, bears the fatal mark of being a rest in its own will. The other, which does nothing in its own choice, does all things in God’s will, so that its rest is in God and not in itself. The one is the rest of a man, who, unconscious of his danger, is walking blindfolded on the brink of a precipice. The other is the conscious rest of a glorified spirit, who walks in peace, and with open vision, on the golden pavements of the New Jerusalem.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13.

Inward Quietness & Outward Trials

It is hardly necessary to speak of the results of quietness of spirit, in relation to the various outward trials, to which all persons are subject in the present life. The very term itself implies, that these trials shall be met, not only without a murmur, but with entire acquiescence and even cheerfulness. “Fret not thyself,” says the Scripture, “because of evil doers.” 

If moral evils exist in the world to a very great extent, as they obviously do, if sin abounds in various forms, oftentimes undisguised and shameless in its affrontery, if Christians are less decided and less watchful against it than they ought to be, it will still remain true, both now and in all time to come, that this state of things, trying as it is to a truly devout heart, will be more likely to be corrected by the efforts of a meek and resigned, than by those of a fretful and rebellious state of soul. The person of a meek spirit understands this; and he cannot allow the sins, which he witnesses, to produce in his own mind a state of feeling, which would be prejudicial to himself without being beneficial to others.

Inward Quietness & Harmony

The state of mind, which is described as meekness or quietness of spirit, is characterized, in a very high degree, by inward harmony. When the judgment is rendered clear by religious influences, when the appetites are subdued, when the various propensities and affections, once rebellious and conflicting, are each and all in their place, operating where they ought to operate and not operating where they ought not to operate, the mind not only presents the aspect of rest or quietness but is obviously in harmony with itself; without which, indeed, the state of rest could not exist. The love of God is restored to its position, as the supreme, the controlling principle; and every natural desire and affection is exercised in subordination to it. There is not that inward jarring, which had formerly existed, thought in conflict with thought, passion contending with passion, and conscience asserting rights which it could not maintain. 

“Disorderly passions,” says Mr. Henry in his interesting Discourse on Meekness and Quietness of Spirit, “are like stormy winds in the soul; they toss and hurry it, and often strand or overset it. They move it, ‘as the trees of the wood are moved with the wind;’ it is the Prophet’s comparison, and is an apt emblem of a man in passion. Now MEEKNESS restrains these winds, says to them, PEACE, BE STILL, and so preserves a calm in the soul and makes it conformable to Him, who has the winds in his hand, and is herein to be praised, that even the stormy winds fulfil his word.” [A Discourse on Meekness and Quietness of Spirit, by Rev. Matthew Henry (1662-1714), New York Ed. p. 34.]

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 13.

Inward Quietness

In attempting to give some account of the influences of faith on man’s inward nature, we cannot well forget, that one of its most marked and pleasant results is the grace of a meek and quiet spirit. That state of mind, which the Apostle Peter describes as an ornament, which is “not corruptible,” and which in the sight of God is “of great price.”

Of the grace of inward quietness, as of other Christian graces, we find some striking illustrations in the scriptures, particularly in the characters and lives of Abraham, Moses, Samuel, Daniel, the Apostle John; and more than all, and above all, in the character and the life, in the labors and the trials of Jesus Christ. It is this trait of the Savior’s character, which seems to be particularly indicated in the prophetic passage in Isaiah, where it is said of him, “He shall not strive, nor cry; neither shall any man hear his voice in the streets.” And still more strikingly, where it is said; “he was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth.”

God Worshipped in His Works

"The heavens declare the glory of God: and the firmament showeth his handy work. Day unto day uttereth speech, and night unto night showeth knowledge. There is no speech nor language where their voice is not heard." — Ps. 19. 1, 2, 3.

Men use a different speech in different climes,
But Nature hath one voice and only one.
Her wandering moon, her stars, her golden sun,
Her woods and waters, in all lands and times,
In one deep song proclaim the wondrous story.
They tell it to each other in the sky,
Upon the winds they send it sounding high,
Jehovah's wisdom, goodness, power, and glory.
I hear it come from mountain, cliff, and tree,
Ten thousand voices in one voice united;
On every side the song encircles me,
The whole round world reveres and is delighted.
Ah! why, when heaven and earth lift up their voice,
Ah! why should man alone nor worship nor rejoice!

— The Religious Offering (1835) XXVI.

A Conqueror, But Not at Rest

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Her growth  in  grace. The account she gives of her will, as subdued in its operations, but not wholly renovated in its nature. Remarks on this subject.

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 Whatever mistakes she may have committed in the period of which we are now speaking, it is evident that she was growing in grace. The world had lost, in an increased degree, its power. Her inward nature had become more conformed to the requisitions of the gospel law. We have evidence of this in various ways. Among other things, speaking of Paris,  which had formerly been to her a place of temptation and injury, she remarks, in connection with a visit which she was obliged to make there, 

Francis de la Combe

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Her first acquaintance, July  1671, with Francis La Combe. Some account of him.

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It  is during this period of her personal history, as it is given in her Autobiography, that we first find mention made of Francis de la Combe. As this somewhat distinguished individual is closely connected with a portion of her history, it may be proper to say something of him. He was born at Thonon, a flourishing town of Savoy, situated on the borders of the lake of Geneva. 

Christian Experience and Present Duty

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Discharge of domestic and other duties. Trials in relation to her seasons of prayer. Of the faults of which she considered herself guilty at this period. Remarks on a regard for God's providences.

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She thought, therefore, with some reason, that at this period of her life she might have failed, in some degree, in her duty to her husband and her family, in consequence of not fully understanding the will of God as developed in his providences. And this view of things perhaps gives a significancy to a remark, which her husband once made, that "she loved God so much that she had no love left for him." It will help to illustrate the source of error and trouble which we are now trying to explain, if we give one or two other facts, which involve the same principle. She had a beautiful garden. And in the time of fruits and flowers, she often walked there. But such was the intensity of her contemplations on God, such "her inward attraction," as she expresses it, that her eye seemed to be closed, and she knew nothing, comparatively speaking, of the outward beauty which surrounded her. And when she went into the house, and her husband asked her how the fruits were, and how the flowers grew, she knew but little about it. And it was not surprising, I think, that it gave him considerable offense.

Prayer — But, Without God's Favor

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Discharge of domestic and other duties. Trials in relation to her seasons of prayer. Of the faults of which she considered herself guilty at this period. Remarks on a regard for God's providences.

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 Undoubtedly, in an important sense of the terms, the religious man's place is his closet. "Enter into thy closet" says the Saviour, "and pray to thy Father, who seeth in secret." The closet is an indispensable place to him. But whenever he goes there in violation of God's providence. it ceases to be a place of God's appointment, and he goes  there without God, It should never be forgotten, therefore, that it is God himself, who consecrates the place, and makes it a profitable one. And He will never consent to be jostled out of his true locality, which is always ascertained and designated by His providences, by means of any merely human arrangements. And accordingly we may lay it down as an important practical principle, that the times and places which are erected within the sphere of God's providences, and are in harmony with them, are right and well; and that all other times and places are wrong.

Particular Times and Places

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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General remarks on her experience during the year 1671. (1)

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 During the year 1671, the hand of the Lord, considered in comparison with its former dealings, seems to have been staid. God had found her faithful; and her soul without having entered into the state of permanent rest and union, experienced, amid all her trials, a high degree of inward consolation and peace. She was patient and faithful in the discharge of domestic duties, regular and watchful in her seasons of private devotion, and prompt in performing the duties of kindness and benevolence to others. In intimating that her trials were diminished, as compared with those of the preceding year, we do not mean to say that she was without trials; but, whatever they were, she was greatly supported under them. And I think it may be added, that, both by the griefs she suffered, and by the duties she discharged, and by the supports and consolations which were afforded her, the process of inward crucifixion was continually going on.

Oh Loved! But Not Enough...

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Oh loved! but not enough...

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Oh loved! but not enough — though dearer far
Than self and its most loved enjoyments are;
None duly loves thee, but who, nobly free
From sensual objects, finds his all in thee.
 
Glory of God! thou stranger here below,
Whom man nor knows, nor feels a wish to know;
Our faith and reason are both shocked to find
Man in the post of honour—Thee behind.

Faithfulness in Trial

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

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Faithfulness in trial. Spiritual consolations.

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In all the trials which she was thus called to endure, in the afflictions of her own person, and in the loss of her favorite son, it may be said of her, as it was of Job, — who is naturally called to mind by the story of her sufferings, — that she "sinned not, nor charged God foolishly."  So far, at least, as the occurrences, which have now been mentioned, are concerned, the sincerity of the consecration which she had made of herself and of all her interests to God, had been tried; and through the grace of God it had not been found wanting.

Taking Up the Cross

Inward crucifixion, when considered in particular instances, is the same thing as taking up the Cross; and if the Scriptures require us to take up the Cross daily, as every reader of the Bible knows that they do, then inward crucifixion becomes our DAILY BREAD. I think it may be said with entire truth, (indeed the scripture command implies it,) that not a day passes, which does not furnish occasion for the fulfillment of the scripture requisition. 

Crosses, planted by the hand of a wise providence, meet us at every step. And we are not at liberty to avoid them. We cannot avoid them without turning aside from God himself. And accordingly, in the spirit of a heart crucified, we must always stoop to the burden, which they impose upon us and must take them on our shoulders, and must bear them as humbly, as willingly, and as rejoicingly as Christ bore his. And happy is the soul, that knows from his own inward experience, that a sanctified Cross is a storehouse of spiritual blessings.

Inward crucifixion, when carried, as it always ought to be, to its full extent, is the result of strong faith. It is hardly necessary to make remarks in support of this proposition. Who would relinquish the world, with the attractions the world holds out, be they more or less, if he had not faith in something better than the world? Who, that is destitute of faith, can find in himself or elsewhere the power which is requisite to keep the various propensities and passions in their place, and in their right action moment by moment? Where will the man, that is without faith, find resources to sustain himself, against the trial of heavy temptations, without a fear or a murmur arising from the workings of a selfish nature? Who can walk in God’s way and will, deprived by his special providence of all inward consolations, without faith? How can a man have his soul so fixed upon God as not to look with a self-interested complacency even on his spiritual gifts and graces, without the supports of a strong faith? We need not delay upon this matter. It is exceedingly obvious, we think, and the concession is confirmed by the experience and testimony of all devout Christians, that without faith the results, which are involved in inward crucifixion, cannot be realized.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 12.

Crucified to Holiness Itself

But perhaps the most decisive mark of the truly crucified man is, that he is crucified even to holiness itself. That is to say, he desires God only, seeks God only, is satisfied and can be satisfied with God only, in distinction from those truly spiritual gifts or graces, which God by his Holy Spirit imparts to the soul.

The truly devout man, for instance, exercises penitence, submission, gratitude, forgiveness, and other Christian graces on their appropriate occasions; and he has great reason to be thankful to God that he is enabled to do it. But if in some moment of inward forgetfulness, of religious “irrecollection,” if we may so term it, he turns the thoughts and the interests of his heart from God to the graces which God gives, and begins to take complacency in his religious exercises, and to be happy in his holiness and to love his holiness, instead of a fixed and exclusive love for the Author of his holiness, I think we may confidently say, he is no longer a man dead to self, no longer in the proper sense of the terms a man inwardly crucified. 

“The purer our gifts are,” says Fenelon, “the more jealous God is of our appropriating or directing them to ourselves. The most eminent graces are the most deadly poisons, if we rest in them and regard them with complacency. It is the sin of the fallen angels. They only turned to themselves, and regarded their state with complacency. At that instant they fell from heaven, and became the enemies of God.”

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 12.

Inward Crucifixion and Inward Consolations

Those, who are the subjects of inward crucifixion, do not seek, and do not value inward consolations in themselves considered. “It is written,” says the Savior, “man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that proceedeth out of the mouth of God.” Consolation is the attendant of religion, but it is not religion itself. Religion, in its highest sense, implies an entire union with the will of God. The true food of our souls is God’s commandment, which is only another name for God’s will. A desire of any thing, and complacency in any thing, which does not place God’s will first, is infidelity to God’s claims. Holy joy is not a thing, which comes by volition; but by a necessary law. If our hearts are right with God, such joy will always come in its appropriate place; not because it is called or willed, but because it cannot help coming. It is a thing which flows from holiness as from its natural fountain. The truly crucified man, therefore, is right in seeking the fountain first. Holiness is something which must be desired and sought for itself; something, which must stand, independently of its pleasant results, first in the mind’s eye, first in the heart’s affections.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 12.

Inward Crucifixion and Adverse Circumstances

The inwardly crucified man receives with entire acquiescence and peace of spirit all adverse occurrences of whatever nature, the misrepresentations and rebukes of his fellow-men, the various injuries of body and estate, the disappointments of broken friendship and violated faith, the natural and unavoidable disruptions of social and family ties, and whatever other forms of human affliction exist. Whatever comes upon him, he feels that he deserves it. He opens not his mouth, except to praise the hand that is laid upon him. Satan, it is true, avails himself of the trials of his situation, and tempts him to evil thoughts; but he is enabled with divine assistance to resist them and to triumph over them. It seems to him a light thing to suffer any thing which God sees fit to impose. It is true, that the trials which he endures sometimes occasion sorrow and even deep sorrow; but it is a sorrow which is consistent with reconciliation to his lot and even happiness; a sorrow without repining, grief without bitterness.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 12.

Inward Crucifixion and Worldly Honors

The truly crucified man, like the truly humble man, does not desire great or eminent things for himself; but deeply sensible of his unworthiness and dependence, it is entirely natural to him, in his new state of feeling, to seek, and to take the lowest place. 

In other words, as one of the results of his being crucified with Christ, he is dead to the perception and the pursuit of worldly honors. If, however, God should see fit, in his providence, to call him to a conspicuous and important station in the world, as he did anciently some of his pious servants, the fact of inward crucifixion would leave him no choice but the divine choice, no will but the divine will. He is entirely acquiescent, and not only acquiescent but rejoices alike in what God gives, and in what he takes away; because he esteems all things which he has, whether it be more or less, whether it be regarded by the world as honor or dishonor, in the light of a gift from God, and looks upon it as valuable only as it is subservient to God’s glory.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 12.

Inward Crucifixion and False Self-Confidence

We have already, without referring to the subject [of inward crucifixion] by name, in part explained what is to be understood by inward crucifixion in the remarks, which have been made upon the suppression of the inordinate exercises of the appetites and affections. Such appetites and affections, without being extinguished, are reduced to their true position; and are no longer the recipients of any life or any law but what comes from God. But this is not all; nor is it a principal part of what is implied in it. 

The process of inward crucifixion destroys and removes many other evils, to which our nature is exposed. Without going into a full detail of them, we may be allowed to say, among other things that it implies the destruction and removal of that feeling of SELF-CONFIDENCE, which is so natural to the heart that is not fully the Lord’s. Least of all things does the man, who has undergone the process of inward crucifixion, place a high estimate, a self-confident estimate, on his own strength, his own perseverance, his own wisdom. Every feeling of that kind, which once characterized his proud nature, has passed away. So much so, that, so far from cherishing them, even the recollection of them is painful.

 — from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 12.

 

Inward Crucifixion and Suffering

The term crucifixion implies suffering. The crucifixion of our inward nature cannot take place without the experience of suffering. The suffering, which we experience, is mental, and is analogous to that, which we experience at any and all times, when our desires are crossed and disappointed. It is the pain or suffering of ceasing to be what we have been by nature, and what by nature we have loved to be. A desire, a love, a passion, disappointed of its object, is always a sufferer. Such is the natural law in the case. And the intensity of the pain will be in proportion to the intensity of the passion. If we loved the world with but little strength, if we were bound to it but by slight adhesion, the process, which sunders this attachment, and disappoints this love, would give but slight pain. But bound as we are in fact with a tie which reaches forth from the heart to its object with the first moment of life, and which grows stronger and stronger with every pulsation, until it embodies, if we may so express it, the whole strength of the soul, the pain of separation, which corresponds to the strength of the previous attachment, is keen and intense indeed. The suffering of a parent, who sees all his attachments and hopes expiring in the death of a beloved child, are not keener. Hence in experiencing the new inward life, we are said to be crucified to that which went before; not only because we die to it, but because in dying to it we suffer.

Inward Crucifixion

A soul, right with God, is a soul crucified. A soul right with God, is a soul, which, in having undergone a painful death to every worldly tie, is a soul, which may be described, in the figurative sense, as being nailed to the cross. The crucifixion of the outward life, by a separation from outward error, and by doing right outwardly, is of far less consequence, in itself considered, and far less painful than the crucifixion of the inward life by doing and being right inwardly.

The subject of inward crucifixion is one of no small interest and importance. It is a subject, which very seldom fails to receive a due share of notice in those devout writers, who have endeavored to analyze and explain Christian experience. In some writers, especially that remarkable class who are usually denominated the Mystics, and are so denominated, more than for any other reason, in consequence of their insisting so much on a new spiritual life in distinction from the old sensual life, it is a theme of especial interest and remark. Some of these writers, particularly Tauler, John of the Cross, Canfield, Catharine of Genoa, and Madame Guyon, denounce the natural life, the Old Adam, as they sometimes denominate man’s fallen nature, with an unsparing, unmitigated eloquence, which, as it seems to us, finds no parallel except in the solemn and overwhelming denunciations of the Scriptures. They attack it with the weapons of argument also, and with a keen and hostile inspection, as well as with denunciation. They pursue it into its hidden places. They detect it under its hidden disguises. They reject all its excuses, all its flattering speeches, all its insinuating applications for a little forbearance, a little lenity. They are not satisfied, because they think and know, that God is not satisfied, until they see it dying and dead on the Cross. “If any man,” says the Savior, “will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.” Luke 9:23. The Apostle Paul says, referring to the trials he was called to endure, “I die daily.”

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 12.

The Prayer of Faith Leads Us Aright

It is the prayer of faith, therefore, involving, of course, an act of an entire consecration to God, which possesses the wonderful prerogative of leading us into the right, without knowledge, and even against knowledge. And hence it is, on the principles which have been laid down, that God, who always requires us to do what is right, so often shuts up the avenues of knowledge in particular cases of conduct, that we may do right by faith without knowledge. Faith is God’s light in the soul; and he may be said, in a multitude of cases, to extinguish the light of knowledge, that he may kindle up the light of faith.

We are aware, that it may appear extraordinary to some persons, to speak of doing right by faith without knowledge. But delay a moment, and notice the precise import of these expressions, which obviously convey a great truth. What, then, is their true meaning? It is precisely this. In those cases, where we are destitute of positive knowledge, we must form the best judgment we are able, looking to God with sincerity and singleness of purpose and in full faith also, that he will guide us aright. And the judgment which is formed under such circumstances, although it rests upon faith, and never in itself ascends above probability, yet becomes practically, and in the moral sense, KNOWLEDGE. That is to say, it answers the purpose of knowledge; and without being knowledge really, it is knowledge virtually.

Knowing God's Will through Faith, Consecration, and Prayer

Faith is the one great law of the life of holy beings. Like the law of attraction, which is universal and reaches every particle of matter, however minute and however remote, it reaches and keeps in its position every moral being that is united to God as its centre. But it is hardly necessary to add, that the very nature of faith implies, that it is antagonistical to open knowledge. God, therefore, in a multitude of cases does not design, (and such is the difference between the finite and the infinite, that he cannot design,) that we should live by such knowledge.

What, then, shall be done? If God does not reveal his will as a matter of positive knowledge, how can we be expected to walk in it? The doctrine of the life of faith precisely meets these inquiries. 

But in ascribing the answer to inquiries of this kind to Faith, inquiries which constantly arise in connection with the duties and the trials of life, we should remember, among other things, that a life of true faith is a life of entire consecration. And in this state of consecration, which always and necessarily implies a freedom from prejudice and all personal influence, we come and present the case of difficulty, whatever it may be, before God. With simplicity or singleness of heart, in other words, with the single motive of doing his will, we supplicate his direction. And while we are thus seeking the divine guidance, we also exercise those powers of reflection and judgment, which our heavenly Father has given us for the express purpose of being faithfully and conscientiously employed on their appropriate occasions. Under these circumstances, let us decide as we will, let us turn to the right or the left, let us advance or retreat, it is our privilege and our duty to believe, that we take the right course: in a single word, that we are right, because the Lord guides us.

In adopting this view, and in making these remarks, it will be naturally understood that we mean the right course in the moral sense of the terms. The prayer for divine direction, offered up in the spirit of consecration, which implies a heart wholly given to God, and offered up also in entire faith, which receives the promises of God without wavering, necessarily involves the result, that the course taken, whether it be conformed to natural wisdom or not, and is attended with the best natural results or not, is morally the right course, and is entirely acceptable to God. A man in that state of mind may commit a physical or prudential error; he may perhaps take a course which will be followed by the loss of his property or an injury to his person, but he cannot commit a moral error. That is to say, he cannot commit an error, which, under the adjustments and pledges of the Gospel, will bring him into a state of moral condemnation, and will have the effect to separate him from God and God’s favor. The mistakes of judgment, if any such exist, are compensated by the rectitude of the heart. The humble and sincere uprightness, which exists there, taken in connection with the arrangements and promises of God, cannot fail to rectify and to make every thing well in the end.

— from: The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 11.

Knowing the Will of God by Faith

It is difficult to appreciate too highly the value, which we should attach to the will of God; a will which is always consonant with the highest rectitude, and always tends to the highest happiness. And it is equally difficult to state too strongly the obligation, which rests upon every individual, to bring every thought and feeling and action of his life into harmony with the divine will. Many persons appear to admit the existence of this obligation in its full extent, while they assert their inability to fulfill it, on the ground, that in particular cases and instances of duty they frequently do not know what the will of God is. They are willing to do what God wills; but their willingness is rendered unavailable by their ignorance. It is true, that a judgment enlightened by God’s Holy Spirit, will do much; and yet much remains to be done. They may know something: and yet much more remains to be known. This exceedingly perplexes them.

The doctrine of faith, considered in certain applications and results, precisely and adequately meets this difficulty.

Hinderances to Good Judgment: Judging Others

Faith in the heart is the true regulator of that disposition, so widely prevalent, and oftentimes so unjust and so dangerous, of judging the characters of our fellowmen. The judgment of men’s conduct and characters, if it be a just and full judgment, implies the additional fact of a judgment of their motives. But if men are baffled in their inquiries into the nature of a tree or plant, of a drop of water or a grain of sand, ought they not to distrust their powers and to be slow in their decisions, in a matter so remote from direct observation and involving so many elements, as the judgment of human motives. If there be any one thing, which may properly be described as God’s prerogative, it is that of judging the heart. 

The man, who has faith in God, will not be hasty in passing a judgment upon the characters of his fellow-men, because faith is the natural and only effectual extinguisher of those various rivalships and jealousies, which are the frequent and injurious sources of hasty judgment. Nor is this all. He will not judge in this hasty manner also, because he feels that God’s command, to which faith gives a practical import and power of which it would otherwise be destitute, is binding upon him. “JUDGE NOT, THAT YE BE NOT JUDGED; for, with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged; and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.”

— From The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 10.

Good Judgment & Living by the Moment

The doctrine of religious faith involves the doctrine of living by the moment; that is to say, of giving to the present moment the whole amount of our present powers, on the obvious ground of its involving the whole amount of present duty. In other words, a living faith, resulting as it does in a holy heart and life, tends to prevent mental dissipation, and to fix the mind upon one object, the appropriate and all important object, namely, that which the present moment brings before it. Such a mind necessarily forms the habit of strict and profound attention. It is not perplexed in its action by a frequent tendency to fly off from its present inquiries, and to bewilder itself in other subjects which are not connected with them. It is superfluous to say, that such a state of mind is exceedingly favorable in the investigation of the truth. The mind, that is capable of fully giving its attention, other things being equal, will be much more correct in its judgments than other minds.

— From The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 10.

Hinderances to Correct Judgment: The Pride of Human Intellect

One of the favorable effects of faith on the exercise of the judgment is, that it is adverse to the pride of human intellect. When we speak of faith in God, we mean God as he is; not a God who is dwindled down to the compass of man’s imagination, but God as he is; God illimitable, God omnipotent, God who reveals himself in every thing that is made, but who in every thing that is made indicates also that there is something not revealed, and something which cannot be revealed. The pride of human intellect cannot stand in the light of such a presence. The man of true religious faith, the man who has faith, not in the idol of his own imagination, but in God as he is, reverting from the Infinite Mind to his own mind, begins at once to feel that he has no intellectual strength, no true wisdom, no purity of love, and no foundation of hope, except what he derives from a divine source. “The most enlightened of men,” says Robert Hall, “have always been the first to perceive and acknowledge the remaining obscurity, which hung around them; just as, in the night, the further a light extends, the wider the surrounding sphere of darkness appears. Hence it has always been observed, that the most profound inquirers into nature have been the most modest and humble.

Hinderances to Correct Judgment: “Empressement.”

One of those things, which are unfavorable to sound judgment, is an undue eagerness, a precipitancy of spirit, which looks earnestly and interestedly to the end without a suitable consideration of the intermediate steps; a state of mind, which the French spiritual writers happily denominate by the single term, “empressement.” 

Christian faith not only removes that undue excitement, which has already been mentioned, and which may arise from a variety of causes; but is also, as it seems to us, the best and only sure corrective of this unseemly and dangerous urgency; this ZEAL of NATURE, if we may so designate it, in distinction from the pure and calm zeal of grace. 

The truth is hidden in God; IN him, OF him, and FROM him; in him because God is true; of him, because all things that come from God are characterized as they come from his hand by being made in the truth; from him, because all beings that desire and seek the truth, must look to him for it. To the truth, therefore, God can never be indifferent; neither to its nature, nor its dissemination, nor its results. And he, who has faith in God as the source of light to all that seek light, as the giver of truth to all that humbly seek the truth, will find no difficulty in being patient, in delaying his conclusions when there is a want of adequate evidence, in reflecting, comparing, and praying for divine guidance. The perceptive and judging powers, exercised under such circumstances, can hardly fail to ascertain the truth. Not the absolute truth always, which implies a knowledge of all possible facts and relations; in other words, not the whole or all possible truth always; but the TRUTH; that kind of truth and that degree of truth, be it more or less, which God in his beneficence and wisdom sees to be precisely fitted to our intellectual capacities and our moral wants; that truth, which the Savior declared to those who believed on him, should make them free. “Then said Jesus to those Jews which BELIEVED on him, If ye continue in my word, then are ye my disciples indeed; and ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” John 8:31, 32.

— From The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 10.

Hinderances to Correct Judgment: Emotion & Passion

One of the greatest hindrances of correct judgment is inordinate excitement of emotion and passion. Whatever may be the cause of it, it is well known, that, when the passions are excited in a considerable degree, the mind finds it difficult to perceive the relations in propositions, particularly those which are of an abstract nature, and to combine them together so as to deduce the true result. And accordingly if a person has before him some difficult subject for examination, one requiring either by its results or its nature a careful and strong mental effort, we generally find him very solicitous to be freed, during the process in which he is engaged, from all exciting and passionate influences. 

It is hardly necessary to say here, after the remarks which have been made at various times, that faith in God tends to subdue and calm every thing of this kind. And I think it may be said with truth, that it is a matter of common Christian consciousness, which Christians will verify by their testimony, that when they are in their best religious state by strong faith and by consequent freedom from worldly passions, they are in the best condition to decide promptly and correctly upon all questions, whether moral or prudential, which require their attention.

— From The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 10.

Faith and Good Judgment

We have seen something in the remarks which have been made in some of the preceding chapters, of the mighty influence of faith in the regulation of the affections and the will; but it is worthy of notice, that it has influence in other parts of our nature also; and particularly in giving rectitude to the judgment. 

Knowledge, which is the result of the action of those perceptive and comparing powers, which we commonly express by the single term, the JUDGMENT, has a closer connection with a correct and thorough inward experience, than is sometimes supposed. True knowledge is the food of the purified mind; that upon which it lives and gains strength. “He, that hath the truth,” says the Savior, “heareth my voice.” False knowledge, if we may call it such, or rather falsehood, under the semblance of knowledge, may be described, on the contrary, as the soul’s poison. Looking at the subject in this point of view, it is not easy to appreciate too highly any thing, which gives precision and steadiness to those powers of the mind, in which knowledge has its source.

The Blessedness of a Will Lost

If we truly believe in God as a being possessed of every natural excellence, if we believe in him as a God present in all his providences, and ever watchful and faithful for the good of his people, and if at the same time we fully believe that in all his actions he is right and that in all his claims upon us he is right, there remains no reason, no possible consideration, no motive, why we should either desire on natural principles, or should feel under obligation on moral principles to possess a will, an aim, a purpose adverse to his. All ground or basis of movement in such a direction entirely fails. But every thing stands firm and effective in the other direction. So that it will not only be unnatural not to give our wills to God; but it will be impossible, (that is to say, it will be psychologically or mentally impossible,) not to do it. All the motives, which can be conceived of, those which have relation to our moral duty, all combine in the same direction; so that the laws of his being must cease to be the laws of his being and man must cease to be man, if, having full faith in God, he does not fully yield his will to God.