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.

Union With God

Among the higher forms of Christian experience, as we find them described, by writers on experimental religion, there is a state of mind, which we find denominated the state of UNION. It is also frequently called, by a phrase which intimates the same thing, the UNITIVE state of mind.— This state of mind is not unfrequently implied and even described by devout writers, without a formal mention of it by name.

Archbishop Leighton, for instance, speaks of the Christian, who perceives himself "knit to God, and his soul more fast and joined nearer to him than to his own body."

The following prayer is ascribed to John Climacus, many centuries since a devout and learned recluse of Mount Sinai.

"My God, I pretend to nothing upon this earth, except to be so firmly UNITED to Thee by prayer, that to be separated from Thee may be impossible. Let others desire riches and glory; for my part I desire but one thing, and that is to be inseparably UNITED to Thee, and to place in Thee alone all my hopes of happiness and repose."

These expressions indicate a full belief, on the part of this devout person, of the existence of the state of present mental union with God, as well as earnest desire for it. There are repeated allusions to this state of mind in the works of Thomas à Kempis and Tauler; writers, who, although Catholics, are favorably mentioned by Luther; and have always been much esteemed by Protestant Christians.

Sir Henry Vane, one of the English Puritans, a man religiously as well as politically memorable, wrote a religious treatise, which in part had express relation to this subject, entitled, ON THE LOVE OF GOD AND UNION WITH GOD. 

Many pious persons in more modern times, and in different denominations of Christians have spoken very emphatically of their union with the Divine Mind; and in such way as to leave the impression, that they considered the state of union as a distinct and peculiar, as well as a very desirable and eminent modification of Christian experience.

"Time would fail me," says Lady Maxwell, "to tell of the numberless manifestations of divine love and power. I have, though deeply unworthy, been favored with such wonderful lettings into Deity, as no language can describe or explain; but the whole soul dilates itself in the exquisite enjoyment; so refined, so pure, so tempered with sacred awe, so guarded by heavenly solemnity, as effectually to prevent all irregularity of desires. These, with every power of the mind, bow in holy subjection before Jehovah. Surely the feelings of the soul, on these memorable occasions, are nearly similar to those enjoyed by the heavenly inhabitants. I have it  still to remark, that all my intercourse with God the Father is strongly marked with that superior solemnity and awe which lay and keep the soul in the dust, yet raised to that holy dignity, which flows from a consciousness of union with the Deity."

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