An Affectionate Submission to God

The subjection or submission of the will, for which we contend, is an affectionate submission, a submission which has some elements of the heart in it, a submission of love. We do not mean to say, that the submission of the will is, psychologically or mentally, the same thing, with love; but that it is a state of mind which implies love. And furthermore, the existence of love, as a necessary attendant upon it, gives to it one of its marked peculiarities, and a great share of its exceeding value. And it is this submission, therefore, the submission of the will in love, which God desires, and which he demands. But it is well understood, that the love of God, implies faith in God. To love him without having faith in his character as a good and holy being would be an impossibility. And, accordingly, looking at the subject in this point of view, we may confidently say the will is never truly subjected to God, is never subjected in that sense which alone God can accept, without faith.

Advice from a Stranger

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

---

[She attends] religious services at the church of Notre Dame in Paris. On her way thither she has an extraordinary interview with a person unknown. His advice to her.

---

It was at this period of her personal history, that [Madame Guyon] began to have a more distinct and realizing perception of what is implied in a sanctified life. Some portions of her reading, as well as her personal experience, had been favorable to this result. In the Life of Madame de Chantal, which she had read with great interest, she found the doctrine of holiness, so far as it may be supposed to consist in a will subjected to God, and in a heart filled with love, illustrated in daily living and practice, as well as asserted as a doctrine. The writings of Francis de Sales are characterized, in distinction from many other devout writings of the period in which he lived, by insisting on continual walking with God, on the entire surrender of the human will to the divine, and on the existence of pure love. The writings of this devout and learned man seem to have been her constant companions through life. The Imitation of Christy generally ascribed to Thomas a Kempis, Another of the works with which she was familiar, is animated by the same spirit of high Christian attainment. All these writers, in different ways and under different forms of expression, agree in strenuously teaching, that the whole heart, the whole life should be given to God; and that in some true sense this entire surrender, not excluding, however, a constant sense of demerit and of dependence on God, and the constant need of the application of Christ's blood, is in reality not less practicable than it is obligatory. 

The Inward Christ

The outward word is good and true,
But inward power alone makes new;
Not even Christ can cleanse from sin,
Until He comes and works within.

It was for this He could not stay,
But hasten'd up the starry way;
And keeps from outward sight apart,
That men may seek him in the heart.

CHRIST IN THE HEART! If absent there,
Thou canst not find Him anywhere;
CHRIST IN THE HEART! Oh friends, begin,
And build the throne of Christ within.

And know from this, that He is thine,
And that thy life is made divine,
When Holy Love shall have control,
And rule supremely in the soul.

— Christ in the Soul (1872).

She Now Sees God in All Things

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

---

Reflections of her conversion.

---

Sustaining the relations of a wife, a mother, and a daughter, and seeing now more clearly into the ways and requisitions of Providence, she endeavored, from higher motives and in a better manner than ever before, to discharge the duties which she owed to her father, her husband, and her children. I speak of her duties to her children, because, previously to the time of which we are now speaking, God had been pleased to give her another son. The birth of her first son, — whom she frequently names as being made, through the perverting influence of her step-mother, a son of trial and sorrow, — has already been mentioned. The second son, who gave better promise both for himself and others, was born in 1667. We shall have occasion to recur to him again, although we have scarcely anything recorded of him, except the few painful incidents of his early death. These new and expanding relations furnished opportunities of duty and occasions of trial, which ceased from this time, at least in a great degree, to be met in the strength of worldly motives or in the arts of worldly wisdom. God, in whom alone she felt she could trust, became her wisdom and strength, as well as her consolation.

We may well and truly say, whatever allowance it may be necessary to make for human infirmity, that God was her portion. She could say with the Psalmist, "The Lord is my fortress and deliverer,— my strength in whom I will trust." The views, which she took of religious truth and duty, were of an elevated character, without being mixed and perverted, so far as we can perceive, with elements that are false and fanatical. It is true, that, even at this early period of her experience, the religious impulse, as if it had an instinctive conviction of the end to which it was tending, took a higher position than is ordinary, but without failing to be guided by the spirit of sound wisdom. If she was a woman, who both by nature and grace felt deeply, she was also a woman who thought dearly and strongly.

Among other things it is worthy of notice, that she distinctly recognized, not only intellectually, but, what is far more important, she recognized practically, that God orders and pervades our allotment in life; that God is in life, not in the mitigated and merely speculative sense of the term, but really and fully; not merely as a passive spectator, but as the inspiring impulse and soul of all that is not sin; in life, in all life, in all the situations and modifications of life, for joy or for sorrow, for good or for evil. The practical as well as speculative recognition of this principle, may be regarded as a sort of first  step towards a thorough walking with God. A heart, unsubdued, a heart in which worldly principles predominate, does not like to see God in all things, and tries unceasingly to shake off the yoke of divine providence. To the subdued heart, on the contrary,— to the heart, in which christian principles predominate, — that yoke always is, and of necessity always must be, just in proportion as such principles predominate, "the yoke which is easy and the burden which is light." Early did this Heaven-taught woman learn this. And she was willing to apply to her own situation, and to her own responsible relations, what she had thus learned.

It is one thing to have the charge of a family, and another to know and to feel, that this responsible position is the arrangement and the gift of Providence. Providence, whose eye is unerring, had placed her in that relation; and whatever cares or sorrows might attend her position, she felt that, as a woman and emphatically as a Christian woman, she must recognize it as the place which God had appointed, and as involving the sphere of duty which God had imposed.

— edited from The Life of Madame Guyon (1877) Volume 1, Chapter 8.

A Change of Heart

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

---

Further reflections on Jean Guyon's conversion experience:

 Madam Guyon, in her Autobiography, makes a number of practical remarks on the nature of her religious experience at this time.

Recognizing a distinction, which is important in the analysis of inward experience, she regarded the change which she underwent at this period, as not merely an intellectual illumination, but as truly a change of the heart. It is true, undoubtedly, that she had received new light. She had been led to see more distinctly than ever before the extreme perversity and blindness of the natural mind. She had now a clearer perception both of what God is, and of what he requires; and especially of the way of forgiveness and salvation by faith in Christ alone.

But perception is not love. The righting of the understanding is not necessarily identical with the rectification of the sensibilities. The understanding, enlightened of God, will sometimes dictate what the heart, in its opposition to God, will be slow to follow. This was not her case. Her under­standing was not only enlightened, but her heart was renewed.

— edited from The Life of Madame Guyon Volume 1, Chapter 7.

God Had Marked Her for God's Own

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

---

It  is easy to see, in the light of these various dispensations, that God, who builds his bow of promise in the cloud, had marked her for his own. He had followed her long, and warned her often; but He did not give up the pursuit. He stopped her pathway to the world; but He left it open to heaven. He drew around her the cords of His providence closely, that she might be separated, in heart and in life, from those unsatisfying objects, which, in her early days, presented to her so many attractions. She herself, as we have already had occasion to notice, was subsequently led to view everything in this manner. It was God who was present in all these events; it was God who, through an instrumentality of his own selection, was laying his hand painfully but effectually upon the idols which she had inwardly cherished, sometimes trying her by mercies, where mercy might be supposed to affect her heart, but still more frequently and effectually by the sterner discipline of outward disappointment and of inward anguish.

It was not in vain, that He who understands the nature of the human heart, and the difficulty of subjecting it, thus adjusted every thing in great wisdom, as well as in real kindness. The trials which He had sent, were among those which work out "the peaceable fruits of righteousness." It was the result of these various providences, afflicting as they generally were, that she was led to the determination, (a determination which from this time never was abandoned,) once more to seek God. She had sought him before, but she had not found him. But, in giving up the search and in turning from God to the world, she had found that which gave no satisfaction. Bitterly had she learned, that, if there is not rest in God, there is rest nowhere. Again, therefore, she formed the religious resolve, — a resolve which God enabled her not only to form, but to keep. Her feelings at this time seem to be well expressed in a well known religious hymn, which is designed to describe the state of a sinner, who has seen the fallacy and the unsatisfying nature of all situations and of all hopes out of Christ.

"Perhaps he will admit my plea;

Perhaps will hear my prayer;

But if I perish, I will pray,

And perish only there.

"I can but perish if I go;

I am resolved to try;

For if I stay away, I know

I must forever die."

— edited from The Life of Madam Guyon Volume 1, Chapter 6.

Hidden Spiritual Decline

Reflections on
the Life of
Madame Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon.

---

The account which she gives of her inward state at this time, is an exceedingly painful one.

I readily gave way, to sallies of passion. I failed in being strictly conscientious and careful in the utterance of the truth. I became not only vain, but corrupt in heart. Although I kept up some outward religious appearances, religion itself, as a matter of inward experience, had become to me a matter of indifference. I spent much time, both day and night, in reading romances, those strange inventions to destroy youth. I was proud of my personal appearance, so much so that, contrary to my former practices, I began to pass a good deal of my time before the mirror. I found so much pleasure in viewing myself in it, that I thought others were in the right, who practiced the same. Instead of making use of this exterior, which God gave me as a means of loving him more, it, became to me the unhappy source of a vain and sinful self-complacency. All seemed to me to look beautiful in my person; but in my declension and darkness I did not then perceive, that the outward beauty covered a sinful and fallen soul.

But this was not the judgment which the world then passed upon her; the world so severe in the exaction of its own claims, but so indulgent in mitigating the claims of God. Under a form that was outwardly beautiful, and veiled by manners that had received the most correct and advanta­geous culture, it was not easy for man to perceive the elements and workings of a heart which harbored moral and religious rebellion. In the eye of the world, therefore, which is but imperfectly capable of penetrating beyond the exterior, and which delights in elegance of form and perfection of manners, there was but little to blame, and much to praise; but in the eye of God, which sees and estimates the inmost motive, it was not possible for outward beauty to furnish a compensation for inward deformity. And in using the phrase inward deformity, we do not necessarily mean, that she was worse than many others who have a reputation for good morals. Estimating her by the world's standard, she had her good qualities, as well as those of an opposite character, her excellences as well as her defects. Nevertheless, there was that wanting which constitutes the soul's true light, without which all other beauty fades, and all other excellence is but excellence in name, — the love of God in the heart.

 — edited from The Life of Madam Guyon (1847) Volume 1, Chapter 3.

Faith Can Make a New Heart

I suppose, that there may be, and that there probably is a sort of faith, either so general and unspecific in its nature, or so weak in its degree, that it does not produce love. A man, for instance, may believe in Jesus Christ as a mere man, as an inhabitant of Judea in the time of Pontius Pilate, and as a very remarkable and good man. But this belief, which does not seem to differ from that which we have in Confucius and Socrates, never is, and never can be the source of such feelings, as those which naturally follow our belief in Christ as one sent from God, as the beloved son of the Father, as an authorized teacher, and as an atoning sacrifice. And then, again, our faith, even if it be right in other respects, may be so weak, so vacillating, so closely allied to actual skepticism, as to fail of being followed by that love, which purifies the heart; the only love which can be acceptable to God. The faith of the heart, therefore, is that faith, which makes a new heart; in other words, which inspires new affections; such affections, as are conformable to God’s law and will.

Love Requires Faith as Its Basis

Love not only requires faith as its basis, but it is equally obvious and equally certain, that our love will rise and fall, just in proportion to our faith. If, for instance, our hearts are full of love to God at the present moment, and we should the next moment cease to believe in him as a God of truth, goodness, and justice, our love would necessarily terminate at once. Or if our faith should not cease entirely, but should merely become perplexed and weakened for some reasons, our love would become perplexed and weakened just in the same degree. Such is the great law of our intellectual and moral being; and such is the doctrine of the Scriptures.

These principles help us to understand what is meant by the faith of the heart; a form of expression which we frequently hear. Properly speaking, or perhaps we should say, speaking psychologically or mentally, faith seems to be an attribute of the intellect, rather than of the heart; an act or state of the understanding rather than of the sensibilities. And yet it must be admitted, that, in the order of mental sequence, it is a state of mind, which, in consequence of being subsequent to perceptions, lays nearer the heart, is in much closer proximity with it, than some other intellectual states or acts. But this is not the only or the most important particular to be considered here. The important fact, and the only one which can give a satisfactory explanation of what is denominated the faith of the heart, is the law of mental relation and action just now stated, viz.: that religious affection is consequent on religious faith, and that they correspond to each other in degree. A faith of the heart, then, is a faith, which affects the heart. A faith of the heart is a faith, which works by love. “In Jesus Christ,” says the Apostle, “neither circumcision availeth any thing nor uncircumcision, but faith which worketh by love.” Galatians 5:6.

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

Restoration to the Divine Image

"We are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." — 2 Cor. 3.18.

Upon the morning flower the dew's small drop,
So small as scarcely to arrest the eye,
Receives the rays from all of heaven's wide cope,
And images the bright and boundless sky.
And thus the heart, when 'tis renewed by grace,
Recalled from error, purified, erect,
Receives the image of Jehovah's face,
And though a drop, the Godhead doth reflect.
It hath new light, new truth, new purity,
A rectitude unknown in former time,
A love, that in its arms of charity
Encircles every land and every clime;
Submission, and in God a humble trust,
And quickened life to all that's pure and kind and just.

— The Religious Offering (1835) VIII.

Despise Not the Beginnings

"The kingdom of heaven is like to a grain of mustard seed which  a man took and sowed in his field; which indeed is the least of  all seeds; but when it is grown, it is the greatest among herbs, and becometh a tree." Matt. xiii. 31, 32.

See, how beyond the hills, the morning bright
Doth write its coming with a single ray;
But gleam is joined to gleam, and light to light,
Till feeblest dawn expands to perfect day.
Despise not the beginnings. When the heart
Receives, however small, the primal beam,
Which God doth to the new-born soul impart,
Revere and cherish its incipient gleam.
Though the first ray from Heaven's eternal throne,
The frail young shoot from Glory's morning star,
Yet fostered well, it dwelleth not alone,
But grows in its own light, and shineth far,
And bindeth ray with ray, till what was one,
Compacted of itself, expands a new-born sun.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XXXIII.

The True Idea of Spiritual Liberty

It has probably come within the observation of many persons, that there is a form or modification of religious experience, which is denominated "Liberty." Hence in common religious parlance, it is not unfrequently the case that we hear of persons being "in the liberty," or in the "true liberty." These expressions undoubtedly indicate an important religious truth, which has not altogether escaped the notice of writers on the religious life. The account, which is given by Francis de Sales of "liberty of spirit," is, that "it consists in keeping the heart totally disengaged from every created thing, in order that it may follow the known will of God."

To  this statement of De Sales, considered as a general and somewhat indefinite statement, we do not find it necessary to object. Certain it is that he, who is in the "true liberty," is "disengaged," and has escaped from the enslaving influence of the world. God has become to him an inward operative principle; without whom he feels he can do nothing; and in connection with whose blessed assistance he has an inward consciousness, that the world and its lusts have lost their enthralling power. Liberty, considered in this general sense of the term, is to be regarded as expressive of one of the highest and most excellent forms of Christian experience. And we may add further, that none truly enjoy it in this high sense but those who are in a state of mind, which may with propriety be denominated a holy or sanctified state; none but those whom God has made "free indeed." We proceed now to mention some of the marks, of which the condition or state of true spiritual liberty is characterized. Nor does there seem to be much difficulty in doing this, because liberty is the opposite of enthrallment; and because it is easy, as a general thing, to understand and to specify the things, by which we are most apt to be enthralled.

The person, who is in the enjoyment of true spiritual liberty, is no longer enthralled to the lower or appetitive part of his nature. Whether he eats or drinks, or whatever other appetite may claim its appropriate exercise, he can say in truth, that he does all to the glory of God. It is to be lamented, but is, nevertheless, true, that there are many persons of a reputable Christian standing, who are subject, in a greater or less degree, to a very injurious, tyranny from this source. But this is not the case with those, who are in the possession of inward liberty. Their souls have entered into the pleasures of divine rest. And they can truly say they are dead to all appetites, except so far as they operate to fulfill the original and wise intentions of the Being who implanted them.

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

Eternity of Love

Oh LOVE! The life-power of my heart,
If all things else should die,
There's one thing, that can never part,
There's one thing ever nigh.

I look upon the worlds above;
Their light may all decay;
But there's eternal life in LOVE;
Love cannot pass away.

Oh sun, that in thy fading years,
May cease at last to shine,
Thou canst not whisper to my fears,
That such a lot is mine.

Oh no! the shining sun may fade,
And wither like a scroll;
But death is powerless to invade
The love-light of the soul.

—  Christ in the Soul (1872) XL.

The Book of Judgment

"And I saw the  dead, small  and great, stand before God; and the books were opened; and another book was opened, which is the book of life; and the dead were judged out of those things which were written in the  books, according to their works."  Rev. xx. 12.

Where is the JUDGMENT BOOK, which God doth keep?
Where is the record he hath made of sin?
So that at last it shall awake from sleep,
And legibly appear? It is within,
The Judgment Book is every man's own breast.
This is the tablet God hath graved upon;
More lasting is the stamp that's there impressed,
Than if it were inscribed on wood or stone.
The wood may change to dust, the stone may break,
And what is written there at last decay;
But the inscription, which the soul doth take,
Will never, through all ages, waste away.
Men may, on earth, turn from this book their sight,
But not, when made to gleam in the great Judgment light.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XVII.

Scriptures Addressed to the Heart

Some portions of the Bible are addressed to the intellect, and some to the heart. The parts addressed exclusively to the intellect, are always understood, where there are corresponding powers and exercises of intellect. The parts addressed to the heart, and which involve truths having relation to the religious affections, can be fully understood only where there are corresponding exercises of the heart. And on this principle, the higher experimental truths of the Bible, such as relate to a full inward salvation, are not likely to be understood and appreciated, except in connection with the experience of such salvation.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CXXX.

The Heart Gives the Sacrifice Acceptance

We may give up all outward things to God; we may surrender houses and lands, wife and children, and whatever else has a worldly value; but unless we give the heart with them, it is after all no real gift. It is a saying of William Penn, in that remarkable book of his entitled "No Cross, No Crown," that it is not the sacrifice that recommends the heart; but the heart, that gives the sacrifice acceptance."

— Religious Maxims (1846) XCIV.

Enmity of the Heart

If there is sunshine in the face,

And joy upon the brow,

Do not suppose, that there's a trace

Of answering joy below,

And what avails the outward light,

Upon the face the smile,

If all within is dark as night,

If all is dead the while?

Deep in the heart the evil lies,

Which nought on earth can cure,

Aversion to the only Wise,

To God, the only Pure.

Oh Thou, who giv'st the heart renewed,

Withhold it not from me,

That, all my enmity subdued,

I may rejoice in Thee.

— American Cottage Life (1850)

Giving Our All to God

The consecration of ourselves to God, including our bodies as well as our spirits, and our possessions as well as our persons, all we are and all we have, all we can do and all we can suffer, should be made without any reserve. There are many professors of religion, who are willing to give up something to the Lord; and perhaps it can be said, that there are many who are willing to give up MUCH; but the consecration, of which we are speaking, requires us to be truly willing to give up ALL. And not only to be WILLING to give up all, but to do it. It is true, that in our present state, some things are needful for us, and our heavenly Father assures us that he is not ignorant of it. But while, in compassion to our obvious wants, he bestows upon us those things, which are necessary to beings who must be fed, clothed, and sheltered, he requires us to hold these and all other gifts of a temporal nature, which we sometimes call our own, as bestowments imparted by himself for a special purpose, and to be retained and used in perfect subordination to the divine will. — And still more important and necessary is it, that all the exercises of the mind, that all powers and efforts of the intellect and all desires and purposes of the heart and will, should be laid sacredly upon the divine altar; in perfect simplicity of view; without any reservation, and without any regards, however secret and intimate, to the claims of self; inscribed, as it were, within and without, with holiness to the Lord; FROM God, OF God, and FOR God. — Consecration without reserve implies, that we are not only to give up our persons and powers to be employed as God wills, but also to endure or suffer as God wills; and it implies also that we are to give them up to be employed and to suffer, just in the time and place, and in all the precise circumstances, which are agreeable to God; without presuming to dictate to him in the smallest respects, and without any will or choice of our own.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 1, Chapter 4.

Praying With the Heart

We may pray with the intellect, without praying with the heart; but we cannot pray with the heart without praying with the intellect. Such are the laws of the mind, that there can be no such thing as praying without a knowledge of the thing we pray for. Let the heart be full, wholly given up to the pursuit of the object; but let your perception of the object be distinct and clear. This will be found honorable to God and beneficial to the soul.

— Religious Maxims XXVIII.

Holiness Does Not Depend on Circumstances

The hidden life, which God imparts to his accepted people, may flourish in solitudes and deserts; far from the societies of men and the din and disturbance of cities. From the cave of the hermit, from the cell of the solitary recluse, the fervent prayer has often arisen, which has been acceptable in the sight of God. But it would be a strange and fatal misconception, that religion, even in its most pure and triumphant exaltations, can flourish no where else. The home of holiness is in the heart, irrespective of outward situations and alliances; and therefore we may expect to find it, if there are hearts adapted to its reception and growth, in the haunts of business as well as in the silence of retirement; in the palaces of Rome, as well as in the deserts of the Thebais.  It is a fatal mistake to suppose that we cannot be holy except on the condition of a situation and circumstances in life such as shall suit ourselves.  It is one of the first principles of holiness to leave our times and our places, our going out and our coming in, our wasted and our goodly heritage entirely with the Lord. Here, O Lord, hast thou placed us, and we will glorify thee here.

— Religious Maxims (1846) XIII.