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 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 Inward Burning

Be PATIENT, let the fire consume,

Give God's interior burning room.

Make no resistance, let it blaze.

And self, in root and branch, erase.

The life of self hath long annoyed;

Thy hopes assail'd, thy joys destroy'd;

It poisons every inward sense ;

And FIRE alone can drive it thence.

The fiery trial gives distress;

But never wish its anguish less;

The pain thou feelest is a sign

Of flames from heaven, of fire divine.

Oh let it burn, till pride and lust,

And envy, creeping in the dust,

And wrong and crime, of every name,

Shall perish in the heavenly flame.

— from Christ in the Soul (1872) LXXVII.

Three Classes of Christians

There are three classes of Christians, who seem to be easily distinguishable from each other.

The first class are those, who, destitute, in a considerable degree, of any marked spiritual manifestations and joys, may yet be said to possess FAITH. And in the possession of faith, they undoubtedly have the effective element of the inward life. Their faith, however, is weak. Their language is, "Lord, I believe,  help Thou mine unbelief."  They have but little strength. In general, they move feebly and slowly; and in some instances scarcely show signs of life. Some, however, exhibit a little more strength and activity than others; and God honors them by employing them in the smaller charges and duties of his Church. These cases are not without their encouragement. Such persons are often characterized by the trait of humble perseverance. They grow in grace, though not rapidly; and not unfrequently become strong in the end. As a general statement, they have not much to say in any period of their experience; but they are not wanting in sincerity, and they cling to the Cross of Christ, as the foundation of their hope. It is seldom that they make a strong impression upon the world; but their example is generally salutary. These are not those, who have been caught up to the "third heavens," and have seen wonderful things.

The second class are those, who have had striking manifestations, in the way of strong convictions and of subsequent great illuminations. From time to time, a remarkable impulse, a divine afflatus, if we may so express it, seems to come upon them, and they are borne on in a gale. Then comes a calm; and they temporarily make but little progress. Sometimes they have great darkness; but it is alternated with gleams of light. Nor is the light, which they have, always the pure and calm light, which is of a heavenly origin; but sometimes the red, meteor-like glare of an earthly fire. They may be said to have a considerable degree of faith; but they evidently have less faith than feeling. Their mental history, however, under its various changes, partakes, in no small degree, of the striking, the marvelous. These persons are generally the marked ones, the particular and bright stars in the Church. They often have great gifts; they labor for God; they attract attention. They overwhelm by their eloquence; startle by their new and sometimes heretical views; are denunciatory, argumentative, prophetic, just as the occasion may call. But their movements are not always clear of Self; and pride sometimes lurks at the bottom. They are "many men in one;" without true fixedness and simplicity of character; but exhibiting themselves in different aspects, according as the natural or the spiritual life predominates, Sometimes they are sunk deep in their own nothingness through the influence of the Spirit of God; and sometimes they are up in the "airy mind" of nature's "inflatibility." They are undoubtedly very useful; aiding themselves in the things of religion and aiding others; but it can hardly be said of them, that  their life is hid with Christ in God. They think too much of their own efforts and powers; they place too high an estimate on human instrumentality; they do not fully understand the secret of their own nothingness; nor do they know, in their own experience and to its full extent, the meaning of self-crucifixion. Hence their confusion, when, in their own view, things do not go right; hence their evident dejection, when the voice of the multitude is suddenly a little adverse to them; hence their plans, their contrivances, too much like the plans and calculations of human policy. They are not destitute of christian graces; but they need more lowliness of heart, and more faith. Nevertheless they have had much experience of the divine goodness; God owns and blesses them; and their memorial is often written in multitudes of grateful ­hearts.

A  third class are those, whose life may be said to be emphatically a LIFE OF FAITH, attended with an entire renunciation and crucifixion of Self. Faith is not perfect, until Self is crucified; and the converse is equally true, that perfect faith necessarily results in entire self-renunciation.

In the second class of persons, which has been mentioned, the spiritual life mingles more or less, and perhaps in nearly equal proportions, with the tendencies and activities of nature. The fire, which blazes up from their hearts, and which often casts a broad light upon the surrounding multitude, is a mixed fire, partly from heaven and partly from earth. The natural unholy principles are not extinct; but can only be said to be partly purified, and to be turned into a new channel. Hence they will oftentimes fight for God with the same zeal, and almost in the same manner, that worldly men fight for their temporary and worldly objects; with great earnestness, with an unquiet and turbulent indignation, and sometimes with a cruelty of attack, which vents itself in misrepresentations, and which persecutes even to prison and to death.

But the class of Christians, to whom we are now attending, having their souls fully fixed in God by FAITH, cannot consent to serve their heavenly Father with the instruments which Satan furnishes. They sow the seed; but they have faith in the God of the harvest; and they know that all will be well in the end. They are not inactive; but they move only at God's command, and in God's way; and are fully satisfied with the result, which God may see fit to give. At the command of the world or of a worldly spirit, they would not "turn upon their heel to save their life."  But  to God they hold all in subjection; and they rest calmly in the great Central Power. These are men of a grave countenance; of a retired life except when duty calls to public action; of few words, simple manners, and inflexible principle. They have renounced Self; and they naturally seek a low place, remote from public observation and unreached by human applause. When they are silent to human hearing, they are conversing with God; and when they open their lips and speak, it is the message which God gives, and is spoken with the demonstration of the Spirit. When they are apparently inactive, they are gaining strength from the Divine Fountain; drinking nourishment into the inmost soul. And when they move, although with quiet step, the heart of the multitude is shaken and troubled at their approach, because God moves with them. There is no thunder, but the "still small voice;" no smoke, but consuming fire.

These are the men, of whom martyrs are made. When the day of great tribulation comes, when dungeons are ready, and fires are burning, When God permits his children, who are weak in the faith, to stand aside. Then the illuminated Christians, those who live in the region of high emotion, rather than of quiet faith, who have been conspicuous in the world of christian activity, and have been as a pleasant and a loud song, and in many things have done nobly, will unfold to the right and the left, and let this little company, of whom the world is ignorant, and whom it cannot know, come up from their secret places to the great battle of the Lord. To them the prison is as acceptable as the throne; the place of degradation as the place of honor. They eat of the "hidden manna" and they have the secret name given them, "which no man knoweth." Ask them how they feel, and they will perhaps be startled, because their thoughts are thus turned from God to themselves. And they will answer by asking, What God wills. They have no feeling; separate from the will of God. All high and low, all joy and sorrow, all honor and dishonor, all friendship and enmity, are brought to a level; and are merged and lost in the great realization of God present in the heart. Hence chains and dungeons have no terrors; a bed of fire is as a bed of down.

It is here in this class of persons, that we find the great grace of sanctification; a word alas, too little understood in the Church. These are they, who, in the spirit of self crucifixion, live by faith, and faith only.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 14.

Crucified to Internal Joys

Another and remarkable characteristic of this state of mind [often called interior annihilation] is this. He, who is the subject of it, is dead and crucified to all internal joys also, as well as to all pleasures and joys of an external kind. He has no sympathy with those, who are always crying, "Make me happy." "Pay me well, and I will be holy." Personal happiness, as a supreme or even a separate object of desire, never enters his thought. It makes no difference what the form of that happiness is, whether pleasures of the senses or pleasures of the mind. He is willing to abandon and sacrifice even the pure and sublime pleasure, almost the only consolation left to him in this sad world, which flows from communion with those, who, like himself, are sanctified to God. His true happiness consists in hanging upon the Cross, and in being crucified to self. Whether he is tempted or not tempted, interiorly and in the bottom of his heart he can say, all is well. Whether he suffers or does not suffer, the throne of peace is erected in the centre of his soul. Wretchedness and joy are alike. He welcomes sorrow, even the deepest sorrow of the heart, with as warm a gush of gratitude as he welcomes happiness, IF THE WILL OF GOD IS ACCOMPLISHED.  In that will his soul is lost, as in a bottomless ocean.

"Lord, I will not follow Thee," says a devout person, "by the way of consolations and self-pleasures, but only by LOVE. I desire Thee only, and nothing out of Thee for myself. If I ever mention any thing as appertaining to me, if I name myself, I mean Thee only; for Thou only art me and mine. My whole essence is in Thee. I desire nothing, which comes from Thee, but Thee  thyself. I had rather suffer forever the cruel torments of Hell, than enjoy eternal happiness without Thee. If I knew I should be annihilated, yet would I serve Thee with the same zeal; for it is not for my sake, but thine, that I serve Thee. Oh, how great is my joy, that Thou art sovereignly good and perfect." [Cardinal Bona, as quoted in Fenelon's Pastoral Letter on the Love of God. See also, for similar sentiments, Bona's Principes de la Vie Chretienne, Ch. 47.]

In connection with what has been said, it will not be surprising when we say further, that the person, to whom these statements will apply, makes but little account of raptures, visions, ecstasies, special illuminations, sudden and remarkable impressions, or any thing of the kind, except so far as they tend, which, alas, is frequently not the case, to extinguish self, and to lead the soul into the abyss of the Supreme Divinity.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 12.

Indifference

Indifference to religion is a great evil. Indifference to SELF, (that is to say, indifference to our own interests considered as separate from those of God,) is a great good. Such is the nature of the human mind that we cannot be indifferent to every thing. To say, therefore, that we are indifferent to ourselves, if we properly recognize and feel the relations we sustain, and if we say it in a Christian spirit, is essentially the same thing as to say, that we possess a heart truly given to God. Self is forgotten, in order that God may be remembered; SELF is crucified in order that God may live in the soul.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CLXXIX.

The Rest of the Soul

Even in the beginning of its renovated life, when it first finds the blessedness of forgiveness, the soul experiences a degree of peace. But, compared with what it is subsequently, it is limited both in degree and permanency. At the early period to which we now refer, the soul finds rest from the condemnation of past sins, without finding rest from the sharpness of inward conflicts, from doubts, uncertainties, and heavy temptations. As it advances in religious experience, the elements of rest develop themselves. When, by the crucifixion of self and the full resurrection of a new and purified spirit, it has become one with its heavenly Father, it then has a peace or rest approaching that of the heavenly world. "Thou wilt keep him in  perfect peace,"  says the prophet Isaiah, "whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee.”

It is important to understand correctly in what true rest or peace of the soul consists. There is a rest which is more so in appearance than reality; just as there is a semblance, a counterfeit of humility, of benevolence, and of other Christian graces. There are some persons whose apparent rest is to be ascribed to natural inertness or stupidity, and not to the sanctified adjustment of their powers. The true rest, however, is not to be regarded as identical with inaction.

The rest of the soul, in the highest spiritual sense of the terms, is that state of the soul, whether it be in repose or in action, which is in harmony with God. There is only one right position of the soul. All others must necessarily be wrong. And that position is one where the creature is brought into perfect adjustment with the Creator, by deriving its perceptions from God, by merging its affections in God's affections, and by harmonizing its will with God's will. In such a state of the soul there must necessarily be rest, if God has rest.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 1.

A Cutting Off

"And if thy right eye offend thee, PLUCK IT OUT,  and cast it from thee; for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. And if thy right hand offend thee, CUT IT OFF, and cast it from thee; for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell." — Matt. 5: 29, 30.

The natural life... has a close connection with the natural desires. Just so far as such desires are inordinate in their action, they are the result of unsanctified nature, and not of the Spirit of God. The root, however, the original and fruitful source of that state of things in the natural heart, which is conveniently denominated the Natural Life, is the inordinate action of the principle of SELF-LOVE; denominated, in a single term, selfishness. The pernicious influence from this source, with the exception of what has become sanctified by the Spirit of God, reaches and corrupts every thing. Hence the importance of the process of excision. It is not only important, but indispensably necessary, that this evil influence should be met and destroyed wherever it exists. A process often exceedingly painful; but inevitable to him, who would be relieved from his false position, and put in harmony with God. There must be a CUTTING OFF, and a renewed and repeated CUTTING OFF, till the tree of Self, despoiled of its branches and foliage, and thus deprived of the nourishment of the rain, the sun, and the atmosphere, dies down to its very root; giving place, in its destruction, to the sweet bloom of the tree of life.

A life of practical holiness depends essentially upon two things: FIRST, upon an entire consecration of ourselves, body and spirit, to the Lord; and SECOND, upon a belief that this consecration is accepted. We must, in the first place, offer up our whole being as a sacrifice to the Lord, laying all upon his altar. But we should remember, it is laid there, in order that the natural life may be consumed, and that there may be a resurrection of the true spiritual life from its ashes. He, therefore, who has consecrated himself to God, must expect that the truth of the consecration will be tested by the severity of an interior crucifixion, which is the death of nature, but in the end present and everlasting life. It is not till the flame has come upon us, and we have passed through the fire of the inward crucifixion, which consumes the rottenness and the hay and stubble of the old life of nature, that we can speak, in a higher sense, of the new life; and say, CHRIST LIVETH IN ME.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (1844) Part 2, Chapter 10.

Dying and Rising With Chirst

Without mentioning other devout men, we may properly repeat here, as being in harmony with some of the views hitherto given, the expressions of the learned and venerable John Arndt, whose name is deservedly dear to the Christian world. "If thou believest,” he says, "that Christ was crucified for the sins of the world, thou must with him be crucified to the same. If thou refusest  to comply with this, thou canst not be a living member of Christ, nor be united with him by faith. If thou believest that Christ is risen from the dead, it is thy duty to rise spiritually with Him. In a word, the birth, cross, passion, death, resurrection and ascension of Christ, must, after a spiritual manner, be transacted in thee." And again he remarks in another place: — "Let us renounce wholly our own strength, our own wisdom, our own will and self-love, that, being thus resigned to God alone, we may suffer his power freely to work in us, so that nothing may, in the least, oppose the will and operations of the Lord."

I am aware that this is a hard doctrine to the natural heart. It strikes heavily upon that feeling of self-confidence, which is one of the evil fruits of our fallen condition. But, as it respects myself, if I may be allowed in humility of spirit to refer to my own feelings, it is a doctrine which is inexpressibly dear to me. I have been taught for many years, and by painful experience, that I can place no confidence in my own thoughts, feelings, or purposes. In none of these respects can I be my own keeper. On the contrary, I have seen, with the greatest clearness, that to be left to myself, either in these respects or in anything else, is always to be left in sin. And so great has been my anguish of spirit, in view of my entire inability to guide myself aright, that I could only pray that I might be struck out of existence and be annihilated, or that God would return and keep that which I could not keep myself. 

IF THOU, O GOD, WILT MAKE MY SPIRIT FREE.

If thou, O God, wilt make my spirit free,

Then will that darkened soul be free indeed;

I cannot break my bonds, apart from thee;

Without thy help I bow, and serve, and bleed.

Arise, O Lord, and in thy matchless strength,

Asunder rend the links my heart that bind,

And liberate, and raise, and save at length

My long enthralled and subjugated mind.

And then, with strength and beauty in her wings,

My quickened soul shall take an upward flight,

And in thy blissful presence, King of kings,

Rejoice  in liberty, and life, and light,

In renovated power and conscious truth,

In faith and cheerful hope, in love and endless youth.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 7, Chapter 3.

Spiritual Resurrection

It is a great mistake to suppose, that those, who go down into the tomb by the death of their earthly or sensual life, must remain there; — as if, because they are dead to sin, they must therefore be dead to humanity. We become dead to one system of life, which is wholly evil, that we may become alive to another, which is intrinsically and wholly good. And as we cooperate with God in our crucifixion, by submitting to all the pains he inflicts; so we cooperate with him in our spiritual resurrection by voluntarily accepting the terms by which he becomes in us a new life.  And the only terms which God does or can propose, are, that he shall be All in All to the soul; — becoming its life just as truly, though under different circumstances and in a different way, as he is the life of the material universe, — just as truly as he is the life or life-giving principle of plants and trees, and of the instincts of the lower animals. If plants and trees grow by their own law of growth, it is still true that God is in the law. If animals move by their own law of movement, it is still true that the central principle of the law of movement is a divine power. And if the holy man acts, it is still true that God acts in him. And the only difference between this case, and those which have just been mentioned, is this. God acts in the holy man in connection with, and perhaps we should say, in subordination to, his own choice.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 7, Chapter 3.

The Heavenly Sculptor

SHRINK NOT FROM SUFFERING. Each dear blow,
From which thy smitten spirit bleeds,
Is but a messenger to show
The renovation which it needs.

The earthly sculptor smites the rock;
Loud the relentless hammer rings;
And from the rude, unshapen block,
At length, imprisoned beauty brings.

Thou art that rude, unshapen stone;
And waitest, till the arm of strife
Shall make its crucifixions known,
And smite and carve thee into life.

The Heavenly Sculptor works on THEE;
BE PATIENT. Soon  his  arm of might,
Shall from thy prison's darkness free,
And change thee to a form of light.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XXXIV.

Renunciation of the World or of the Self?

It  may sometimes be practically important  to make a distinction between a renunciation of the world and a renunciation of ourselves. A man may, in a certain sense and to a certain extent, renounce the world, and. yet may find himself greatly disappointed in his anticipations of spiritual improvement and benefit. He has indeed renounced the world as it presents itself to us in its externalities; he has renounced its outward attractions; its perverted and idle shows. He may have carried his renouncement so far as to seclude himself entirely from society, and to spend his days in some solitary desert. But it avails nothing or almost nothing, because there is not at the same time an internal renunciation; a crucifixion and renunciation of self. A mere crucifixion of the outward world may still leave a vitality and luxuriance of the selfish principle; but a crucifixion of self necessarily involves the crucifixion, in the Scripture sense, of everything else.

— Religious Maxims (1846) XXII.