The Loss of Our Own Will

It is not sufficient, that the lower principles of our nature are brought into subjection; it is not sufficient to possess affections purified and sanctified; God requires, in addition to these results and evidences of the rectification of our inward nature, the subjection of the will; an equally important and perhaps still more difficult work. One of the results of the highest Christianity, a Christianity far different from and far above that which is merely nominal, or which is but little better than nominal, is the LOSS OF OUR OWN WILLS. It is not meant by this, that we may not have a will different from that of our fellow-men, nor is it meant, that we may not have a strong, energetic will; but that we ought not to have, and that as Christians, who aim at the highest results of the divine life, we cannot have a will of our own, in distinction from and at variance with the divine will.

In this last sense, he, who approaches nearest to an annihilation of his own will, approaches nearest to the state of entire sympathy and harmony with the Divine Mind. The prostration of our own will, in such a sense that it shall not in any respect oppose itself to the will of God, seems to be the completion or consummation of those various processes, by which the inward spirit is purified. When the will in its personal or self-interested operation is entirely prostrated, so that we can say with the Savior, “Lo, I come to do thy will,” then the wall of spiritual separation is taken away, and the soul may be said, through the open entrance, to find a passage, as it were, into God himself, and to become one with Him, in a mysterious but holy and glorious union. Then and not till then, can it be truly said that the warfare against God has ceased, and a perfect reconciliation taken place, enabling those who have arrived at this blessed state to exclaim with the Savior, (perhaps in a modified but still in a true and most important sense,) “I AND MY FATHER ARE ONE.”

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 9.

The Love of God as Example

It is obvious, that love can never exist in any higher degree than in the Divine Mind; but it is certain that it never exists there in such a degree as to perplex, even to the smallest extent, the action of God’s percipient or intellectual nature. God loves deeply and perfectly, for the very reason that he perceives clearly and perfectly. To love an object, without a clear perception of the nature of the object and of its claims to love, would involve the hazard of loving imperfectly or wrongly; a risk which can never, by any possibility, exist on the part of a perfect and holy being. Now it must be obvious, that love, in those who bear the divine image, will sustain the same relation to other acts and affections of the mind, as it does in God. To be born in the divine image always implies this, and implies it in the real and strict sense. If we love like God, our love will operate by the same law, which regulates God’s love; that is to say, we shall love both in such a manner and such degree as to leave the intellect unembarrassed and clear in the perception and estimate of the character of the object and of its claims to our love. When, therefore, in the exercise of our benevolent affections, the actual affection exists in such a degree as to perplex the perceptive and intellectual action, and to render our appreciation of the merits or demerits of the object confused and doubtful, we may be certain that we are wrong, that we are jostled out of the true centre, and that we have not God with us.

 — from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 7.

God and Nothing

We conquer ill and all distress,
By sinking into Nothingness;
For in our Nothing we are such,
That nothing can our Nothing touch.

Our enemies their arms prepare;
They smite, but find us empty air;
For when we see the lifted rod,
We leave ourselves, and hide in God.

We always know which way to run,
And thus all threatening dangers shun;
In vain they seek; they cannot find
Our hiding place in God's great Mind.

And when they undertake to smite,
They find that God is in the fight;
And God and Nothing make them know
A great and sudden overthrow.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXXX.

Human Moral Freedom

But what is to be said of human freedom and human responsibility?

If our dependence upon God is to be so strict, and our self-renunciation is to be so entire, is there good reason for regarding man as a being, either possessed of the elements, or responsible for the fact of moral accountability?

The simple truth is, that God never has violated; he never will violate; and while he remains what he is, he never can violate the moral freedom of his creatures. He gave them moral freedom; and the gift itself is the pledge of its protection. This freedom he is bound by the very elements of his nature to respect sacredly and to respect always. Being what he is, he is not so weak in principle as to violate his own implied promise; nor, considered as the superior, and man as the dependent, is he so poor in character as to be satisfied with a homage, which is not voluntarily rendered.

To be saved from sin and to be brought into moral harmony with the Divine Mind, without a recognition of moral freedom, would in our apprehension, be in the nature of a contradiction in terms; and would, in reality, be neither salvation to men nor honor to God. It is, therefore, left to men, and left to all moral beings throughout the universe, to decide, (and it is a question which is always and necessarily decided one way or the other,) whether they will be saved by the divine operation alone, or will attempt to save themselves by their own efforts. If they consent to be thus saved, in other words if they give themselves up to God to be saved in his own way and manner, then they live by the presence and the agency of the divine operation; or in the expression of the Scriptures by the indwelling of the Holy Ghost; but if they do not consent, they live, as Satan and all other rebellious spirits do, by the operation of unavailing and destructive efforts generated out of self. But where consent is given, so that the divine operation may be in harmony with the mental laws, moral freedom is unimpaired.

And this is especially true, when it is considered, that the act of consent is not the same thing as a cessation or annihilation of action; it is not a mere absence or negation of mental movement; but is a real or positive act on the part of the creature; one which may be specifically described as an act of harmonious concurrence and cooperation, with the divine act. And what is worthy of notice, and is especially important here, this consentient and concurrent act is repeated in all time to come; existing always in immediate consecution with the divine influence, moment by moment. It is in this position of the two minds, the Divine Mind, and created minds, (a position which reconciles the two otherwise antagonistical ideas of God’s gift and man’s free reception,) that grace is communicated. The idea of grace imparted or infused in any other manner, the idea of grace enforced, the idea of saving men against their own consent, involves an absurdity. Salvation is nothing else, and can be nothing else, than harmony with God. But harmony without consent would be an adjustment of conceptions not more free from absurdity, than that of love without affection.

— edited from The Life of Faith Part 1, Chapter 9.

Like a Beggar...

A beggar at a certain time, hungry and destitute of clothing, went and asked aid from another person. He asked in faith; that is to say, he asked in the exercise of entire confidence both in the ability and in the benevolent disposition of the person, to whom the application was made. And his faith being rightly placed, he received in accordance with his faith. But in thus placing himself in harmonious relation with the donor, viz.: in corresponding, in his sense of need, in his willingness to receive, and in the exercise of faith, with the donor’s generous disposition, no one can suppose that he ceased to exercise his own agency or to possess moral responsibility; and at the same time, being a mere recipient, no one can suppose, that he had any merit, which could detract from the fullness and freeness of the gift, or which could entitle him to reward. And so in the relations existing between man and God. If our own minds, in the sense of want and in the exercise of faith, are put into harmony and union with the Divine Mind, we shall receive what we need; but, being recipients and not the donor, we shall feel, as the beggar did, that the merit of all our mercies is in the giver of them; and at the same time it will be true, that we shall receive them without any infringement or loss of personal agency and accountability.

It is desirable, that these views and principles should be remembered. They aid in justifying the representations of Scripture, which every where and most emphatically ascribe man’s spiritual restoration to faith. Nor can any other principle, considered as standing first and standing alone, take its place. Even the principle of love, noble and divine as it is, could not unite the soul to God, and could not even be pleasing to God, without faith as its antecedent and basis. In the full possession of faith, we at once enter into harmony with God, and we necessarily exercise, on their appropriate occasions, all those affections which are desirable. By a law of its own nature it propagates every thing else from its own bosom. Having once come into existence under the divine inspiration, it may be said instrumentally and in the natural filiation of the mental exercises, to make all, to secure all. But without faith, whatever else he may have, man is left of God and left of happiness.

— edited from The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 7.

A Scriptural State of Mind

We observe, in the first place, that the name, unitive state or state of divine union, is derived from the peculiar state of mind which exists. The precise state of the soul, stated in general terms, seems to be one of close and ineffable conformity with the Divine Mind. It is called the state of union, therefore, simply because it is such.

We cannot help regarding this state of mind, if it be rightly understood, as a scriptural one. Is it too much to say, that there is a recognition of it, in those remarkable and to some persons inexplicable passages, which are found in the latter part of John's Gospel? Passages which, however mysterious they may appear to many at the present time, have nevertheless a real meaning; and as the church advances in holiness, will undoubtedly be made clear and full of import in connection with the personal experience of multitudes.

"Neither pray I for these alone; but for them also, which shall believe on me through their word. That they may all be ONE;  as thou, Father, art in me and I in thee, that they also may be ONE  IN  US, that the world may believe, that thou hast sent me. And the glory, which thou gavest me, I have given them, that they may be ONE, EVEN AS  WE ARE  ONE. I in them and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in ONE; and that the world may know, that thou hast sent me; and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me." John 17:20, 23.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 13.

Heavenly Teaching

The selfish heart for wisdom looks 

In earth's dim leaves and moldering books; 

The holy heart its light doth find 

In God's great light and living Mind.

The holy heart, of love compact, 

With love in every thought and act, 

Doth find, within, the Teacher true, 

With thoughts and lessons ever new.

The secret whispers, inly heard, 

The voice, of the "Eternal Word," 

Surpass in wisdom, far, the reach 

Of what poor earthly schoolmen teach.

Oh WISDOM, coming from above, 

The eldest born, the child of LOVE, 

Be Thou our book, our living page, 

To guide us through earth's pilgrimage.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XLIX.

God's Happiness in Human Holiness

The sources of God's happiness, therefore, are twofold; — first, that simple but ever-flowing consciousness of happiness which has already been mentioned; and, second, the contemplation of his perfections, as they are imaged forth and realized objectively, that is to say, in the hearts and lives of his creatures. The moral universe around him, when unpolluted by sin, is the bright mirror of himself. It is the beauty, therefore, of his own being, seen in the infinitude of holy beings whom he has created, — the light of true glory kindled up in all parts of the universe, and reflected back upon the central fountain of light,— which constitutes a large share of his ineffable bliss. Considered in relation to the beings he has made, God may properly be regarded as the great moral center, as the sun in the vast system of holy love, rejoicing in the infinite number of stars which his own radiance has kindled up around him.

The holiness of the creatures of God is one of the great elements of his happiness. The doctrine that the happiness of God rests for its support, in part at least, upon the holiness of his creatures, is one of great interest to men. It  furnishes a new motive to holy effort. Everything we do has its correspondent result in the divine mind. There is not a throb in our bosoms, beating in the direction of pure and universal love, which does not excite joy in the bosom of our heavenly Father. It is not more true that angels rejoice, than it is that God rejoices, over every return from sin and every advance in holiness.

It  is hardly possible to conceive of a higher result in the destiny of man than that which thus contributes to the happiness of God. The thought, therefore, should animate us in all our efforts, namely, that God sees us; that he takes an interest in all our acts and feelings; and that when we are good our Father is happy. The light of our little star goes back to its parent sun. The small wave of our little fountain swells the broad billow of the mighty ocean. Can there be a higher motive to action than this?

Then let us labor on. God works. Let us work with him. Let us suffer; if needs be. Yea, let us rejoice in suffering; but neither in toil nor in suffering trusting to ourselves, but rather "looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith; who, for the joy that was set before him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God."

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 7, Chapter 12.

The State of Continual Prayer

He, who can say from a full and sincere heart, THY WILL BE DONE, is in a state of continual prayer. And it is a prayer, which, although it is general in its form, may be regarded as realizing and including in itself all particular and specific prayer. He, who is the subject of it, sympathising as he does with the divine mind, prays for everything which God requires him to pray for. He can as really pray for all the objects of prayer without specifically knowing them, as he can adore all the purposes of God without knowing them. There is no sinner in all lands and no sorrow in the wide world, which he does not virtually and at the same time really present before God. It should be remembered, however, that this sublime state of mind, which exists much less frequently than it should do, is entirely consistent with specific prayer, and that it really lays the best foundation for it.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CLX.

The Great Center

Every thing that exists has its converging point, its elementary principle, its great CENTER. And when separated from the central tendency, it is necessarily upon a wrong track. The soul, therefore, whose tendencies, are towards the world, can be at most only partially holy. The center of the sanctified soul is the great GOD. To that it tends. In that it rests. Neglecting all other attractions, it aims earnestly after the divine mind. It is there, and there only, than it finds a present and everlasting home.

— Religious Maxims (1846) XCIX.

The Affections and the Will Must Also be Subject to God

There are mental susceptibilities, which, on account of their being subsequent in the time of their action, may be described as laying back of the emotive part of the mind, as truly as the emotions can be said to lay back of the intellectual part. In making this remark, we have especial reference to the desires in their various modifications, particularly those modifications which are denominated the affections, and to the will.

Any religion, or rather pretense of religion, which is not powerful enough to penetrate into this region of the mind, and to bring the affections and will into subjection to God, is in vain. It is an important fact, and as melancholy as it is true, that a person may be spiritually enlightened and have new views on the subject of religion, and that he may also have very raised and joyful emotions, and yet may be a slave to his natural desires. He has not experienced what every one must experience, who would enter into communion with the Divine Mind, viz. the death of nature. He loves the things of the world more than the things of God.

Many, very many, are the instances, which can verify this remark. As the result of their intellectual illumination, the persons, to whom these statements will apply, are undoubtedly in advance of what they were previously, and are able to talk fluently on the subject of religion. And in consequence of some premature application of the Savior's merits to their own case, they can speak of pleasures and of hopes, which they never before experienced. But only urge upon them the necessity of self-crucifixion; only touch the idols which they cherish in their inner heart; and they discover at once the dominion which the world has over them still. God has not become the life of the soul. At a proposition, so necessary to the life of God and so repugnant to the life of nature, the spirit of untamed and almost unmitigated evil, which reposed so closely and secretly in their bosoms, will start into existence with features of opposition and malignity, altogether at variance with the peace and purity of a holy heart.

We may probably discover in these principles the reason, why it is, that, in times of especial religious attention, so many persons, who appeared to be much engaged in religion for a season, subsequently lose their interest, and become, both in practice and feeling, assimilated to the world. Such persons are undoubtedly the subjects of an inward experience; and this experience, in common parlance, is frequently called a religious experience; but it is obviously defective in the essential particular of not having a root. "But he, that received the word into stony places, the same is he, that heareth the word, and anon with joy, receiveth it. Yet hath he not root in himself."

Notwithstanding their increased ability and readiness to converse on the subject of religion, and the exhibitions which they make of emotion, sometimes of high emotion, they do not understand what it is to place themselves a living sacrifice upon the divine altar. They do not appreciate, and still less do they realize in their own hearts and lives, the "all of God and nothing of the creature."

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (1844) Part 1, Chapter 16.

A Delightful Attraction Toward the Divine Mind

I could speak of many remarkable deliverances and supports in time of mental trial. God has ever been with me, in time of trouble, a faithful God. But these and many other things which have called forth the deep gratitude of my heart, I am compelled to omit.

I cannot refrain from saying, however, that almost from the very moment of my obtaining the victory over those selfish feelings which have been spoken of; I was distinctly conscious of a new but powerful and delightful attraction towards the Divine mind. This, I believe, is a common form of interior experience among those who have enjoyed the blessing of sanctification. I perceived and felt very distinctly that there was a central existence, full of all glory, towards which the Spirit was tending. I could realize the meaning of the Psalmist, "As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, O God." I felt like an imprisoned bird, when the string is cut that bound it to the earth, and which soars upwards and spreads its wings to the skies. So conscious have I been that inordinate self-love has been the great cause of the separation between my soul and God, that the very idea of self as distinct from God is almost painful to me. When self is destroyed, the divine union, which sanctified hearts only know, takes place. If I know any thing, I know most certainly that the true resting place of my soul is and must be in the infinite mind; that it is not and cannot be any where else. Perhaps no part of the Scriptures, during the more recent periods of my experience, has more affected me, than the prayer of the Saviour for his disciples, "That they all may be one, as thou, Father, art in me, and I in Thee, that they also may be ONE IN US." It is difficult for me to conceive of any heaven but God's presence; of any hell but his absence. I realize that the cup of my happiness is full, whatever may be my personal trials and sorrows, whenever and wherever my heavenly Father is glorified in me. Accordingly it is my earnest and constant prayer, that my will may be wholly and for ever lost in the will of God, and that I may never know self any more, except as the instrument of divine glory.

— from Phoebe W. Palmer (editor), Pioneer Experiences or The Gift of Power Received by Faith Illustrated and Confirmed by the Testimony of Eighty Living Ministers of Various Denominations (1872).

The Image of God

All holy beings, inasmuch as they come from God, are, and must be, formed originally in the divine image. It  is thus that angels and all angelic and seraphic natures are formed. They are miniatures of God. It is thus that man himself was originally formed. And God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness. So God created man in his own image. In the image of God created he him." 

The likeness of God to man is not in form, for God is without form; — not in intellect, for the intellect of God embraces all things, while man can know only a part; — but in that which constitutes, more than anything else, the element, the life, of the divine nature, namely, HOLY LOVE. Man, in the infancy of his existence, was created a love being. Love, as the center of his existence, was not a speculation, but a nature;  not an accessory of life, but the life itself. Spontaneous in its action, acting because it had a principle of movement in itself, it did not wait for the slow deductions of reason, but flowed out in all directions, like a living stream. As man, thus formed in the love spirit, looked around upon the works of nature, he saw all things in the possession of life and beauty, and he rejoiced in all things, because all things had God in them. He loved the tree and the flower, which reflected the divine wisdom and goodness. But far more did he delight in the happiness of everything which had a sentient existence. He  called all animals to him. The birds dropped their wings at the sound of his voice, and came. The beasts of the field and of the forests flocked around him from their near or distant habitations. He loved them; and he gave them their names. When the occasion was presented, when the sentient object, no matter to what scale or degree of sentient being it belonged, was before him, his simple and pure heart flowed out at once. 

It  was thus, beyond all question, that the primitive man was constituted. Such is the representation of Scripture. Love, resting upon faith, was his nature And, coming from God, he could not have been constituted otherwise. God being what he is, he could not have created man otherwise than he did. The principles of right, which apply to the fact of creation as well as to the government of things created, are not susceptible of change.  It is impossible, therefore, to conceive of more than one pattern or model, according to which holy beings were at first created. And this one pattern, which, in being the true pattern, condemns and excludes all others, is that of the Divine Mind itself. The model, in being perfect, can never be altered; in being eternal, can never be broken.

— A Treatise on Divine Union, Part 4, Chapter 4.