Subjection of the Will by Faith

How is this great work, the subjection of the will, to be effected? 

And the answer must be repeated, which has already been so often given, that it can be done, so far as we can perceive, only by the operations and influence of FAITH. 

And in saying this, it can hardly be necessary to add, that we do not mean to exclude personal effort, in whatever form of resolve or of action it can properly be made; although it is true, and always will remain true, that personal effort here, as elsewhere in the things of religion, will be unavailing without faith. And this is so truly and emphatically the case, that we cannot hesitate to speak of faith as the cause, and as the one great and preeminent cause of a result so desirable and glorious.It is obvious, in the first place, that the man, who has no faith in God, can see no reason, and in the actual state of his views and feelings he has no reason, so far as he himself is concerned, why he should subject his will to God’s will. To subject our wills is to subject ourselves. If God has the control of the will, he has the control of the man. And no man, no rational being whatever, could be expected to subject his will, and thus to subject himself, to another being, however exalted he might be supposed to be, without faith in such being. It would obviously be against nature. That is to say, it is something, which in our apprehension is naturally impossible.

Fear of Death

"For I am in a strait betwixt two, having a desire to depart to be with Christ, which is far better," — Phil. l. 23.

The body perishes, but not the mind;
The outward man decays, but that within
Shall grow more pure and bright, like gold refined,
Rebuilt in strength, and separate from sin.
E'en now I feel the purifying flame,
A fire from heaven is kindling in my heart,
Diffusing greater joy than words can name,
And pouring light through all the mental part.
That fire shall burn long after the sad hour,
When death shall bring the body to the grave.
Increasing in its brightness and its power,
Long as eternal ages roll their wave.
Why should we tremble, then, and fear to die;
Death but unbinds the soul, and frees us for the sky.

— The Religious Offering (1835) Scripture Sonnets IV.

The Promise of the Lord

We thank Thee, Lord, before 'tis done;
We know Thy promise doth endure;
And battles fought are battles won,
Because Thy word is sure.

Look back, and confirmation see
In the long history of years;
When God hath uttered his decree,
No place remains for fears.

There's something brighter than the light
Of burnish'd spear and gleaming sword;
Gird on the heavenly armor bright,
The strength of God's great word.

Behold the boasting foemen flee
With flags and cohorts crush'd and broken;
'Tis God, that gives the victory;
The Lord himself hath spoken.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LIV.

Freedom From the Fear of God's Displeasure

And, what is greater than all, the man who in the exercise of faith is fully united to God has rest from the fear of the divine displeasure.

 John Climachus, one of the devout and learned anchorites of Mount Sinai, in referring to the inward state of a holy man with whose history he had become acquainted, represents the divine grace to have been so marked and powerful in its operations as to have taken away from him apparently even the fear of God. Although such expressions are liable to be misunderstood, it is beyond question that they are susceptible of a meaning which involves an important truth. It is a universal truth, applicable in all times and situations, and not a particular truth limited to specific cases, that  "perfect love casts out fear."  Love and fear, in their very nature, are antagonistical principles. Where love rules, fear is extinguished. The triumph of the one is necessarily the exclusion of the other.

But, in laying down this universal principle, we must have a regard to the meaning of terms. The fear which is based upon the consciousness of guilt, is a different thing from that fear which is synonymous with reverence. It is certain, where love is perfected in the heart, that all fear which results from sin is extinguished. In that sense of the term, or rather with that limitation of the use of the term, the holy man ceases to fear. God has no sooner merged the character of a judge in that of a friend, than the man of God delights to be with him, and to converse with him. It is no more his nature to flee from God under the influence of sinful fear, than it is the nature of an innocent child to flee from its mother. He rests, like calm and helpless infancy, on the arm that is wreathed with lightnings. The lightnings have no terror for innocence; but rather, divested of everything which can harm it, they shine like flowers, and play round it like sunbeams. But to those who are in a state of fear, originating in sin, they retain the terrors of their original nature, smiting with a power which rends the rocks in pieces, and burning with a consuming fire.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 5.

Freed From the Fear of Other People

The man, in whom the divine nature is reconstituted, is freed from the fear of his fellow-man. It is one of the artifices of Satan to attack holy men through the aids of those who are unholy; by employing their lips in the utterance of evil surmises and falsehoods, and sometimes by exciting them to more open attacks. The holy man leaves his cause with God. He would not plead it himself if he could. He stands without fear, as Christ did before the bar of Pilate, in the sublimity of  a triumphant silence. He rejoices in spirit, knowing that, at the appointed time, when faith and patience have had their perfect work, he shall hear the voice of his own great Defender.

Nay more, armies of men, as well as individuals, have ceased to cause terror. Dungeons, which nations have erected, bring no alarm. He has no fear, because he finds the defense of the future in the history of the past. The walls of cities have fallen before the voice of the Lord. Brazen gates have been sundered. Iron chains have been separated like flax at the touch of fire. What has been, will be. No power can hurt him, because infinite power is his protection. And even if there is no direct interposition, and evil men are allowed to triumph for a time, the sense of suffering is overwhelmed and lost in the joy that he is accounted worthy to suffer.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 5.

Freed From the Fear of Sickness and Death

The man who in the exercise of faith is fully united to God, is delivered from the fear of sickness and death. Undoubtedly, in themselves considered, sickness and death are afflictions. The truly devoted and godly man understands this as well as others. But fully believing that all things work together for the good of those who love God, he is freed from anxiety. He welcomes suffering, when God sends it, in whatever form it may come. The physical suffering and weakness which attend upon sickness, become means of growth in grace; and, so far from being causes of complaint, are welcomed and rejoiced in as the forerunners of increased purity and happiness. And while many are constantly subject to bondage, through fear of death, the holy man looks upon it as the end of sorrow and the beginning of glory.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 5.

The Vessel of Providence

There is a multitude of things which reasoning cannot resolve. All attempts to satisfy ourselves on such subjects must be attended with disquiet and anxiety. And the mind which is fully right with God, will not be likely to make such an attempt. The true wisdom is, to wish to know all that God would have us to know; to employ our perception and reasoning under a divine guidance, and to seek nothing beyond that limit. All beyond that we may properly and safely leave, knowing that all things work together for the good of those who love God.

We may illustrate our position, perhaps, by comparing ourselves to persons on a voyage. Providence is the vessel, if we may so speak, in which we are embarked, and in which we are borne on over the vicissitudes of our allotment, over the waves of changing time. The vessel, in a world like this, where good and evil are convicting, may be tossed with violence; but the mariners should be calm. Let the vessel float on. The winds and the currents are not accidents; but every movement of them, every rolling wave, every breath of wind, is under a divine control. The pilot is awake when he seems to sleep. The rest of God is not the rest of weakness or of forgetfulness, but the rest of security. And his work is not the less effectual and the less certain because it is done "without observation."  It is our business, when we have done all that he has commanded us, to leave the result with him, without fear and without questions.

The vessel which bore the Saviour over the sea of Tiberias, was tossed by the storm. His disciples came to him in great agitation, and called upon him for help. In quieting the raging of the tempest, he thought it a suitable occasion to rebuke them for giving themselves up so easily to the reasonings and fears of unbelieving nature. “And he saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith!  Then he arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. But the men marveled, saying, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?”

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 2.

'Tis Not in Vain the Mind

'Tis not in vain the mind,
By many a tempest driven,
Shall seek a resting-place to find,
A calm like that of heaven.

The weak one and dismayed,
Scarce knowing where to flee,
How happy, when he finds the aid
That comes alone from Thee!

In Thee, oh God, is REST! —
Rest from the world's desires,
From pride that agitates the breast,
From passion's angry fires.

In Thee is rest from fear,
That brings its strange alarm;
And sorrow, with its rising tear,
Thou hast the power to calm.

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

Resignation

Oh, let the fires of trouble burn;
Seek not too soon to quench the flame;
In peaceful Resignation learn,
The better way their wrath to tame.

Resistance, which thy fears inspire,
Doth not protect, doth not restore;
'Tis rather fuel for the fire,
And makes it blaze and burn the more.

But when thy troubled soul accepts
The furnace of its wasting grief;
A power unseen thy life protects;
'Tis Christ himself that brings relief.

Oh yes, 'tis Jesus with thee stands;
The heated fires grow weak and dim;
He shields thee with His outstretch'd hands;
HIS ARM IS ROUND THEE. Trust in Him.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XXXVIII.

Help in the Wilderness

"Thus saith the Lord, The people which were left of the sword, found grace in the wilderness; even Israel when I went to cause  him  to rest."  Jer. xxxi. 2.
"Who is this that cometh up from the wilderness, leaning upon her beloved?"  Cant. viii. 5.

Alas! We travel in the desert now,
Obscure our way, perplexed the paths we tread;
With thorns and briars the vales are overspread,
The mountains fright us with their angry brow.
But who is this that hears us in distress,
And when we fear we ne'er shall travel through,
Doth sudden burst upon our raptured view,
And goes before us in the wilderness?
The Savior comes! We lean upon his arm,
And resting there, find strength amid our woe;
The tempests cease, that filled us with alarm,
And o'er the burning plains the fountains flow.
No more the storms assail, the thunders roll,
But angels' songs are heard, and pleasures fill the soul.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XIV.

The Place of Refuge

"For thou hast been a strength to the poor, a strength to the needy in distress, a refuge from  the  storm."

"A man shall be as an hiding place from the wind, and a covert from the tempest."  Is. xxv. 4-xxxii. 2.

The clouds are gathering in the distant sky;
I hear the fiercely muttering thunders roll;
Terrors invade my breast; my trembling soul
Looks forth around, but sees no refuge nigh.
Ah, whither shall I flee? What friendly hand
Shall guide me to some safe, select retreat,
Where, while the dark, perpetual tempests beat,
Unscathed, uninjured, I may safely stand?
He comes! He comes! I see the platted crown;
I see the bleeding feet, the wounded side.
Now let the bellowing storm rush fiercely down,
Thy smile shall comfort me, Thine arms shall hide.
With Thee, Thou dear Redeemer, are no fears;
Thou scatterest all my doubts, and wipest all my tears.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XII.

The True Rest

'Tis not in vain the mind,
By many a tempest driven,
Shall seek a resting-place to find,
A calm like that of heaven.

The weak one and dismayed,
Scarce knowing where to flee,
How happy, when he finds the aid,
That comes alone from Thee.

In Thee, O God, is REST;
Rest from the world's desires,
From pride that agitates the breast,
From passion's angry fires.

In Thee is rest from fear,
That brings its strange alarm,
And sorrow, with its rising tear,
Thou hast the power to calm.

— American Cottage Life (1850).

Oh Love! Thou Day-Star of My Heart!

Oh love! thou day-star of my heart!
Ascend upon thy throne!
Victor and lord, where' er thou art, 

To all within the power impart,
Of life to God alone.

Such is the magic of thy sway
Upon the holy mind;
That sin, all powerless in thy ray,
Departs, as night-shades flee the day,
And leaves no cloud behind.

My soul was dark in other years;
The stain was on my brow;
And something whispers to my fears
The loss of all but sin and tears,
If thou should'st leave me  now.

But fears are gone, and tears are bright,
Lit with the beams of love:
There is no sin, nor grief, nor night,
To him, whose inmost soul is light
With radiance from above.

— American Cottage Life (1850).

Power of Holy Love

The  soul, that loves Thee, cannot fear;
Terror is conquer'd by desire;
For Thee it leaves each object here,
And seeks Thee with its wing of fire.

Rejecting pleasure, hating rest,
It counts for loss its highest gain,
Till of its Lord once more possess'd,
With Thee it lives, with Thee doth reign.

See how the things of lower birth,
How joy and care perplex its way!
It spurns them, as it spurns the earth,
And upward seeks the realms of day.

One object occupies its gaze;
No other can it seek or see;
Till plunging in the central blaze,
It finds itself at home with Thee.

— American Cottage Life (1850)

Cheerfulness

The bird is happy all the day,
The morning hears his early songs;
The love, that breathes the morning lay;
To evening's shade the note prolongs.
Never weary, never fearful,
Always singing, always cheerful.

Is  man less happy than a bird?
Has he less power his song to raise?
Why, then, so seldom is he heard
In the glad notes of joy and praise?
Often weary, often fearful,
Seldom singing, seldom cheerful.

Oh, be a, bird, a cheerful bird;
Thy love like his, as pure and free;
Till all the earth and air is stirred
With notes of joy and liberty.
Never weary, never fearful,
Always singing, always cheerful.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XX.

Love and God's Infinity

Love, by which we mean pure or holy love, cannot by any possibility exist in any but an Infinite Being, or in those beings who rest on the Infinite. Plants and flowers might as well grow upon rocks where there is no earth, as pure love grow out of the finite; — we mean the finite, standing alone and sustained by its own strength. Such is the nature of this love, transcending as it does all limited interests, that it claims a natural and necessary affinity with the unlimited. All other love is bounded. Pure love knows no bounds  It does not ask whether the object of its regard is good or evil, a friend or an enemy. It transcends the restrictions, which are multiplied and piled up one upon another of human passion and interest, and gives its affections without reward. Strong in its own divinity, it "casts out fear."  Fear, which has no place in the infinite, is the necessary law of inferiority, except where the weak are united with the strong. All beings that are not God and are not united with God, in neither being the source of things nor being united with that great and benevolent source, are condemned to selfishness by their position, and are condemned to weakness and sorrow, to fear and shame, by their selfishness. Having nothing else to rest upon, their thoughts and their love turn to themselves. Pure love, which rejects all such restrictions, they have not and cannot have. But God's love, growing out of and constituting, or at least perfecting, a nature which is infinite and which in being infinite knows no partial interests and has no fear, reaches all, encircles all, blesses all.

— adapted from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 4, Chapter 2.

Encouragement

SAY not, 'tis all a dreary way,
With rocks beset, with briars growing,
Where never beams of sunlight stray,
And ne'er a gentle stream is flowing.

Or  if it be, that thou dost go
Through scenes so darksome, wild, and frightful,
Yet there is one who loves thee so,
That he can make e'en this delightful.

Jesus is ever near at hand,
To aid, to guide, and to deliver,
With his own arm, the chosen hand
Which he hath bought, to keep forever.

Then drive away thy doubts and fears,
Nor dread the ills that threat to hurt thee;
For Christ, that saw thee in thy tears,
Hath said, He never will desert thee.

— American Cottage Life (1850).