Faith — Not Emotion

There is another class of persons, whose experience is something more than intellectual; but which, just so far as it exists independently of faith as its basis, cannot safely or justly be regarded, as a true religious experience. We refer to those, whose religious life is characterized chiefly or exclusively by strong emotions. These cases are in some respects more difficult to be rightly estimated than those which have just been mentioned. It is well known, that many persons find it difficult to form an idea of religion separate from feeling; and they are very apt to consider great feeling and great religion as very much the same thing. In many minds religion and feeling are almost identical. But it will be noticed in the proposition, which we have laid down, that we do not condemn feeling, that we do not exclude feeling as a part of religious experience, but only that we condemn and exclude from religious experience all that feeling, which exists independently of faith as its basis.

Faith is the Source of All True Feeling

Faith is the source, the parent of all true feeling. And in saying this, we ought to add, that we use the term feeling in a general sense; meaning by it not merely the emotions, to which it is sometimes limited, but those other modifications of our sensibilities, which we include under the denomination of the desires and affections.

And it is proper to say here, that faith is the source, the parent of all true feeling and affection in the natural sense, as well as in the religious sense. Certain it is, that this statement admits of an easy and a satisfactory illustration in the case of the affection of love. It requires no proof to sustain the assertion, that natural love is based upon natural faith. If we have entire confidence in another, if we believe him to be amiable and pure in feeling, and upright in principle, it is the natural result of such confidence, that we shall love him. And on the other hand, it will be very difficult, and I think we may say, it will be found naturally impossible for a person to love another, (except, perhaps, with that lower form of love, which is synonymous with pity or sympathy,) in whom he has no faith. And the same confidence, the same faith, which inspires the affection of love in the first instance, gives it permanency in time to come. The one perpetuates itself in company with the other. Suggestions may arise, and temptations may assail us, but love will live, if confidence does not perish. But how soon does our love to a person, to whom we were once devotedly attached, cease, when our faith in him ceases! No sooner is the confidence, which we reposed in his amiability, in his truth and honor, and other estimable qualities, taken away; in other words, no sooner is our faith in the existence of these traits taken away, than the love, which rested upon it, falls at once to the ground.

The law of the religious affections is the same. They always imply the antecedent existence of faith. Religious faith, sustained by the Holy Spirit, but operating in a manner entirely analogous to the operations of natural faith, is undoubtedly the true basis of religious love. Without the key of faith the foundation of divine love, which refreshes and gives beauty to the whole soul, would never be opened within us. It would be impossible; because it would obviously be a result, not only without reason, but against reason. It is because we believe or have faith in God as just, benevolent and holy, as possessed of every possible perfection calculated to attract and secure our love, that we love him.

— from The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 6.

God Is Not Impassive

It is sometimes said of God, that, being infinite and perfect, he is beyond the reach of emotionality; in other words, is an "impassive" existence, a being without feeling. The truth seems to us to be directly the opposite. God, so far from being the negation, is the perfection of feeling; that  is to say, he feels, and cannot help feeling, just as he ought to feel, on all possible occasions.

This remark we proceed now to illustrate in some particulars. And, accordingly, it may be said, in the first place, that God, instead of being impassive and without sensibility, is a being of desires and aversions. Can it be supposed, for instance, that any good takes place in the universe, without God's desiring it to take place? And if such a supposition is impossible, it is equally so that any evil can take place without causing in him feelings of dissatisfaction and aversion. And this is not all. He not only desires good to take place, but he rejoices in it, when it has taken place. And he cannot do otherwise. And, on the other hand, he not only disapproves of wrong-doing, and desires that it may not take place, but it cannot take place without exciting grief in him.

Crucifying Reliance on Religious Feelings

We must separate ourselves altogether from any reliance upon religious feelings of any kind, considered as a ground of hope and salvation. We know well, that there can be no religion without religious feelings. No man is, or, can be, a Christian without them. They are indispensable. But what we think it necessary to object to and to condemn, is a disposition, which sometimes exists, to trust in our feelings, and to make a sort of idol of them, instead of trusting in Christ. A man, for instance, has experienced at a particular time great sorrow for sin, or high emotions of gratitude, or is sunk in depths of humility. If, at some time after, his mind reverts to those feelings and dwells much upon them; and in such a manner that he begins to place a degree of trust and confidence in them, instead of placing his trust in the Savior, it must necessarily be to his great injury. It is not our feelings, but  CHRIST, that  saves us. If we look to our feelings for salvation, instead of looking to Christ, we necessarily miss our object. And in accordance with this view, we sometimes find persons, who are continually examining and reexamining and poring over their past experience; but who are generally in much darkness of mind. Probably, without being fully aware of it, they are secretly looking for something in the history of their past feelings which they can place their trust in, instead of turning away from themselves, which would be much better, and looking directly upward to a sufficient and present Redeemer. 

Crucifying Reliance on Special Signs

It is necessary to cut off and crucify the inward desire, which so generally prevails, for the experience of special signs and testimonies of acceptance with God. There is hardly any Christian, who has not, at some period of his religious history, experienced some perplexity in this respect.

One of the most difficult lessons which we are called to learn, one however which is indispensable, if we would know the heights and depths of the religious life, is that of living by simple faith. God expects us, and has a right to expect us to leave ourselves and all our interests in his hands, in the full confidence, that he will do every thing which is right. And it is obviously the duty of every Christian, to correspond to this claim on the part of God, and to yield himself up, body and spirit, in the bonds of an everlasting covenant; fully believing that God will not desert him, neither in duty nor in temptation; and whether he is led in light or in darkness, with sensible manifestations and testimonies or without them, that all things will be well in the end, and will work together for his own good and for the divine glory. But too often this duty is not regarded. To live by faith, to lean upon the mere word of God without the supports of sight, is a very humbling way of living; and it is hard for the natural man and even for the partially sanctified man to receive it. Nature, so far as it exists in the heart, chooses another method, one more suited to itself, but less glorious to God. Some good Christians have exceedingly perplexed and injured themselves, for a considerable length of time, by attempting to maintain the inward life on the erroneous system of special signs, tokens, and testimonies, such as an audible voice, the application of some unknown passage of Scripture, the occurrence of some remarkable temporal event, the possession of a preconceived and specified state of joyous feeling, or something of the kind, which, in their ignorance or under the influence of remaining self-will, are earnestly sought from God, as the pledges and evidences of their acceptance. Such a system of living has scarcely any affinity, and perhaps none at all, with the true life of God in the soul. The Christian life, we repeat, is emphatically a LIFE OF FAITH; but to endeavor to live in the way, which has just been referred to, is evidently a deviation from the way of faith, and tends directly to strengthen the unspeakable evil of distrust in God.

From every thing of this kind, therefore, we must separate ourselves without hesitation, however painful the process may be. In the spirit of self-crucifixion, we must learn the great lesson of relying by simple belief on the mere declaration of God. And in doing this we need not fear. What need has the principle of inward faith of any sign or testimony additional to itself? Faith, whenever it is strong enough to be a true light within, will always bear its evidence in its own nature.  It no more asks or requires exterior illumination, than the sun in the heavens asks for a taper to learn its own illuminated position. "He, that believeth on the Son of God, hath the witness in himself."

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

Being a True Child of God

The holy man's will, therefore, operating by its own law of action, and secured in the possession of a just moral freedom, moves in the superintendence and harmony of a higher, better, and unchangeable will.

Such an union with Providence not only requires simplicity of spirit, but it may be said to make a man simple. He thinks, as some ancient writer expresses it, “without thinking;"  that is to say, his thoughts, taken out of the order of his once selfish nature, are suggested by and fall in with the providential order; and they do it so easily and so beautifully, like the thoughts of angel natures, that another power seems to think in them and to give them life. He thinks without the labor of thinking, because his thoughts are given to him.

He feels, as the same writer expresses it, “without feeling."  That is to say, he feels without making a special effort to feel, and without having his thoughts particularly directed to his feelings. They arise spontaneously in connection with actions and events.

If his spirit has become one with God's spirit, then all he has to do is to feel as God feels; — which he does by a natural sympathy rather than by a constrained voluntary effort.  And so true is this, that God, operating by the gentle attractions, and by the ebbing and flowing of divine love, almost seems to take his place, and to feel for him.

He wills, it is further remarked by the writer just now referred to, “without willing.” That is to say, his will, freed from selfish impulses, and from the power of antecedent habits, operates so harmoniously with the Universal Will, that the two wills, not physically, but morally, are made one. And he wills as if another willed in his stead.

And is not a man who thus thinks without thinking, feels without feeling, and wills without willing, by the loss of his own thoughts, feelings, and volitions, in the thoughts, affections, and purposes of God, — is not such a man truly characterized by simplicity of spirit? It is sometimes said of the truly renovated and sanctified man, that he has become a child. And it may well be asked, who is or can be more a child than the man we have just described? The child thinks as his father thinks, feels as his father feels, wills as his father wills. And it is this, much more than his physical likeness, which makes him the true child. He is sometimes taunted with that which constitutes his true honor, namely, that he dares not think for himself, nor feel nor will for himself, but that he is just as his father is. The child of God, also, is just as his Father is. It is this, more than anything else, which makes him the true child. And as the Father establishes, or makes Providence, the child harmonizes with Providence; and it is much the same thing to say, that he is the child of Providence, and to say that he is the child of God. In either case, he is a child, and a child is SIMPLE; that is to say, he has that simplicity of spirit, which makes him think, feel, and will, as another thinks, feels, and wills. In his simplicity, not knowing which way to direct his steps, he goes as he is led. God leads him. From the hand of God's providence he receives his daily food. The same Providence which leads him, feeds him. All things and all events are his teachers, because God is in them. He BELIEVES, and God takes care of him.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 6, Chapter 7.

Faith is the Source of Feeling

Faith is the source, the parent of all true feeling and affection in the natural sense, as well as in the religious sense. Certain it is, that this statement admits of an easy and a satisfactory illustration in the case of the affection of love. It requires no proof to sustain the assertion, that natural love is based upon natural faith. If we have entire confidence in another, if we believe him to be amiable and pure in feeling, and upright in principle, it is the natural result of such confidence, that we shall love him. And on the other hand, it will be very difficult, and I think we may say, it will be found naturally impossible for a person to love another, (except, perhaps, with that lower form of love, which is synonymous with pity or sympathy,) in whom he has no faith. And the same confidence, the same faith, which inspires the affection of love in the first instance, gives it permanency in time to come. The one perpetuates itself in company with the other. Suggestions may arise, and temptations may assail us, but love will live, if confidence does not perish. But how soon does our love to a person, to whom we were once devotedly attached, cease, when our faith in him ceases! No sooner is the confidence, which we reposed in his amiability, in his truth and honor, and other estimable qualities, taken away; in other words, no sooner is our faith in the existence of these traits taken away, than the love, which rested upon it, falls at once to the ground.

The law of the religious affections is the same. They always imply the antecedent existence of faith. Religious faith, sustained by the Holy Spirit, but operating in a manner entirely analogous to the operations of natural faith, is undoubtedly the true basis of religious love. Without the key of faith the foundation of divine love, which refreshes and gives beauty to the whole soul, would never be opened within us. It would be impossible; because it would obviously be a result, not only without reason, but against reason. It is because we believe or have faith in God as just, benevolent and holy, as possessed of every possible perfection calculated to attract and secure our love, that we love him.

— The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 6.