Holy Love

The love of self seeks earthly treasure,
And close in secret chambers folds it;
But HOLY LOVE, no place, no measure,
In all the universe can hold it.

Go, tread the path of secret fountains, 
And thou shalt find it shining bright; 
Go, tread the forests and the mountains, 
And there it sheds its holy light. 

Go, seek the poor man's cottage lowly; 
Ascend the monarch's lofty tower; 
And, in the bosoms of the holy, 
'Tis everywhere their life and power. 

It marches forth with banners flying; 
No sword can slay, no prisons bind it; 
No fear, no grief, no pain, no dying, 
Can mar the happy souls that find it.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXXXIX.

How We Can Attain a Holy Life (Rewritten)

In our previous post, we explored an important idea: the deepest and most meaningful expressions of spiritual life — those moments when the barriers between God and the human soul seem to fall away — are inseparably linked to holiness of heart. If that’s true, then the next natural question is an urgent one: How do we actually become holy?

How do we move from weak faith to confident faith, from inconsistent love to a love that is whole and mature? How do we experience what Scripture often calls entire sanctification?

In response, we suggest that three essential elements are involved—always in partnership with the work of the Holy Spirit. Without these, holiness will remain more of a theory than a lived reality.

Advice from a Stranger

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

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[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.

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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. 

A Selfish Being

If a man’s love centres in himself as the highest or supreme object of his affections, which it must do, if it does not centre in some other being, he is of course a selfish being; and as such he cannot be regarded as a truly holy being. If he thinks for himself, acts for himself, lives for himself, as he must do if he himself be the highest object of love, it must be sufficiently obvious without any comment upon it, that he cannot be otherwise than selfish, and cannot be otherwise than unholy. 

All such love, which thus centres in ourselves, is wrong, and is not acceptable in the sight of God; because it is not proportioned to its object, and is inordinate.

It may be proper to add this remark here, that pure love or holy love is that love which is precisely appropriate to the object; being such, neither more nor less, as the object is precisely entitled to, so far as we are capable of understanding what the object is.

If our love centres in creatures inferior to God, and becomes supreme in them, it is necessarily selfish; as really so, though not so obviously so at first sight, as if it centered in ourselves. It is entirely obvious, that the motive for loving inferior beings in the highest degree, for loving them supremely, cannot be founded in their own characters. It is not a love, to which they are justly entitled. It is not right to love them in this manner. 

And if the motive of this love is not founded in their characters, and is, therefore, not based upon moral rectitude, it is founded, and must necessarily be so, in some selfish modification of our own feelings. The only active principle in man, which is antagonistical to rectitude, is selfishness in some of its modifications. Whenever a moral being deviates from the right, in any and all cases where he has a perception of what the right is, it will be found to be through the influence of self. In all such cases, if a being is loved otherwise than it ought to be, and is therefore loved wrongly, selfishness will always be found at the bottom. It will sometimes be very secret and almost hidden; but it will always be there.

— The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 4.

Fit Heirs of Heaven

The great objects of that atoning and remedial system, which is revealed in the Gospel, are not secured by forgiveness alone. Christ died not merely to save sinners, but to sanctify them; not merely to rescue them from hell, but to make them, by the purification of their natures, the fit heirs of heaven. 

Salvation is a state, not a locality. It does not consist in dwelling in the new Jerusalem; but in having the right inward state; that is to say, in being fit to dwell there. A soul, that is truly and permanently saved, is a soul, that is made truly and permanently holy. And the hope of salvation, (even in that inferior and secondary form, which consists in freedom or salvation from suffering,) can be sustained only by the consciousness of possessing a heart, which, in some degree at least, is made right with God.

— The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 3.

Necessity of Divine Illumination

"But the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God; for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned." — 1 Cor. 2.14.

Oh, send one ray into my sightless ball,
Transmit one beam into my darkened heart!
On Thee, Almighty God, on Thee I call,
Incline thy listening ear, thine aid impart!
In vain the natural sun his beams doth yield,
In vain the moon illumes the fields of air;
The eye-sight of my soul is quenched and sealed,
And what is other light, if shades are there!
Beyond the sun and moon I lift my gaze,
Where round thy throne a purer light is spread,
Where seraphs fill their urns from that bright blaze,
And angels' souls with holy fires are fed.
Oh, send from that pure fount one quickening ray,
And change these inward shades to bright and glorious day.

— The Religious Offering (1835) VII.

God's Glory in His Saints

I thought, O God, Thyself to see,
When I should reach the heavenly clime;
Display'd in kingly majesty,
Upon a shining throne sublime.

But Thou didst say, Behold me now,
Cloth'd in a vesture like thine own;
Mine eye illumes man's sainted brow,
My love hath made his heart its throne.

In Christ the lesson first began;
I dwelt in Him, and He in me;
And now each new-born, Christ-like man,
Proclaims the same great mystery.

The holy man is God reveal'd;
In HIM God makes His glory known;
Behold it, with thine eye unseal'd;
BELIEVE! and make it all thine own.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXV.

Holiness and the Contemplative State

The contemplative state, like that of meditation, is, for the time being, a fixed state. That is to say, the mind unites itself firmly and fixedly with its appropriate object for a length of time. In the highest degrees of sanctification, it becomes almost a permanent state. It may be broken temporarily by the pressure of care and worldly business. But it is the natural tendency of the truly holy mind, when left to itself, to fall into this state. That is to say, in every object the contemplative man, who cannot be truly contemplative without being truly holy, catches a new glimpse of the Divinity; and has no heart to leave it, until the vicissitudes of Providence call him to other objects where he has new revelations of the divine nature, and new exercises and intimacies of love.

Labor in Trust

The labor of the holy man ceases to be labor, in the ordinary sense of that term, not only for the reasons which have been mentioned, but because his humble trust in God actually supplies the place, in many cases, of positive effort. In other words, God does now reward him by actually sharing and lightening the burden which is upon him. God, whose happiness consists in the exercise of love, always delights to do the work of his people, when the circumstances are such as to allow him to do it. Man's first work, and, as compared with others, almost his only work, is to return from his sins, and to enter into union with his Maker. From that moment he not only may, but he ought to, give up all anxiety. God will never desert him. God will hold up and inspirit his weary arm. Even if the body labors, the anxieties of the spirit should cease.

See the father of a numerous family.  Day after day he toils without ceasing. Their food, their clothing, their morals, their education, their health, all successively occupy his thoughts, fill him with anxiety, and give him no rest. He is burdened and borne down to the dust, because he attempts to bear the burden alone. If he were a man of perfect faith, he would labor less; and at the same time with greatly improved results. His faith would honor God, and would secure the fulfillment of the promises. It would make God present, because it would necessarily secure the cooperation of his loving nature. And this is not all. It would react upon his own character; — giving clearness to truth, submission in sorrow, strength in temptation, patience under rebuke, and love at all times. So that, under the purifying power of a higher trust, an influence would emanate from his own character. His silence would speak. And the inaction of God, if we may so express it, (that is to say, the silent and quiet operation of God in the soul,) would do more  than the activity of the creature.

Certainly, in  view of such considerations as these, we have great reason for saying, if we cannot safely say anything more, that the labor of the man of God is a very different thing from the labor of the man of the world. It is exempt, at least, from all anxiety. And hence that calmness, which is seated on his brow. No expression of impatience, no scowl of hatred, no frown of anger; but a constant cheerfulness, which shows that the principles of faith and love at the centre make all things easy. It is one of the signs, therefore, of the truly holy man, that he is happy in his work; so much so, that under the existing circumstances, he could not be equally happy without work. So that, virtually, his work is his recreation; his labor is his play.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 7.

Labor Empowered by God

One reason that the labor of the truly holy man ceases to be labor, in the ordinary sense of that term, is, that there is a divine power working in him. The Infinite Mind is necessarily the life of the created and finite mind, so long as sin does not separate them from each other. Man is the instrument, in which and through which God works.

The Savior himself said, "I can of myself do nothing." The wonderful power which was manifested in him, in his incarnate state, had its source in his Father, from whom, in the exercise of faith, he continually drew divine strength. [See Acts, Ch. 1:3, and other passages of similar import.] The language of Paul and of other holy men, who derived their strength from God through Christ, is, "I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me." Philipp. 4: 13.

There is an inward conviction, a consciousness felt in the depths of the pious man's spiritual nature, that virtue has a necessary alliance with power, and that the good man never, can be deserted. God, who inspires this remarkable conviction, is pledged, both by nature and by promise, to see it realized. And thus the man of God, who feels this increased strength, finds that easy which would otherwise be hard to him.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 7.

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.

Rest From Disquieting Fears

The soul which is brought into entire harmony with God, has rest from all disquieting fears. It is a declaration of the Scriptures, and is no less evident from one's own consciousness, that "fear hath torment.” 1 John 4:18.  In all cases, fear diminishes happiness; and, when it is very great, it is almost inconsistent with any degree of happiness. It  produces distrust; it causes agitation; it sunders friendship; it alienates love. From the wretchedness connected with this state of mind, the holy man has true rest; and no other man has.

Among other things which tend to illustrate these general views, we proceed to remark, that the holy man is delivered from the fear of want. The unrighteous man fears that he will come to want, because he has no faith. On the contrary, where faith and love are perfect, bread will not fail. God will multiply the widow's vessel of oil, or send his ravens, as he did to the famishing prophet, when his people who trust in him are hungry. "I have been young," says the Psalmist, "and now am old; yet have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor his seed begging bread." Ps. 37:25.

It is proper to add here, it is not the mere fact that God will provide for his people, which delivers from fear; but the belief, the full confidence, that he will do it. And this is not all. The people of God are willing to suffer want, are willing to be as the Savior was, who had no place to lay his head, if God sees it best. In connection with such feelings, it is impossible for fear to exist.

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

Purely Impuslive Actions Cannot be Holy

Actions, which proceed from pure impulse or a mere internal impression without attendant perception or reaction, cannot possibly be holy actions. What we mean to say is, that there is a natural impossibility of their being such. A mere impulse, unattended by perception and reflection, is of the nature of an instinct. And any action, done from mere blind impulse, no matter how strong or extraordinary that impulse may be, is both physically and morally of the nature of an instinctive action. Now, as it is universally conceded that purely instinctive actions have no moral character, it is entirely evident, that impulsive actions, which are of the same nature with instinctive actions, have no title to the denomination or character of holiness. Some persons seem to think, the more they act from impulse, especially powerful impulse, the more holy they are. But this, if we are correct in what has been said, is a great and dangerous mistake.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition 1844) Part 3, Chapter 4.

Ceasing from Worldly Desire

In saying, therefore, that the holy man ceases from desires, we mean that he ceases from worldly desires; and in ceasing from such desires he has peace of soul.

Does he desire food and clothing? Being limited in his desire by what is necessary for him, and by what God approves in him, he believes that God will see his wants supplied. And thus he is without anxiety. Does he desire a good name among men? As he desires it only that God may be glorified, and only so far as God allows him to desire it, he has faith that he will receive, and that he does now receive, so much of the world's favorable opinion as is best for him; and he asks and wants no more. God, who inspired the desire, has answered it at the moment; and he is perfectly satisfied. Does he desire power? As he desires no power but God's power, and such as God shall give him, he receives now, in the "evidence" and the "substance" of his faith, the very thing which he asks; and having nothing in possession, and everything by the omnipotence of belief; he can almost say with the Saviour, "Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to my Father, and he shall presently give me  more than twelve legions of angels?” And then he adds,  with a still higher degree of faith, "But how then shall the Scriptures be fulfilled that thus it must be?” He does not desire, and does not ask, any power or any assistance which is inconsistent with God's present arrangements.

Aided by such views, we may possess a distinct and impressive appreciation of many passages of Scripture. "Consider the lilies of the field," says the  Savior, "how they grow. They toil not; neither do they spin. And yet I say unto you, that even Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which to-day is, and to-morrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, oh, ye of little faith!" "Trust in the Lord," says the Psalmist, "and do good: — so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou shalt be fed." "For the Egyptians," it is said in the prophet Isaiah, "shall help in vain, and to no purpose. Therefore, have I cried concerning this, their strength is to sit still." That is to say,  it is better to trust in God and to wait quietly for the manifestations of his providence, than to adopt any means or trust in any aid which he does not approve. Matt. 6:28-30. Ps. 37:3. Isa 30:7.

To the holy soul, which has no desires but God's desires, and which does not doubt, such promises are realities.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 3.

The Dangers of Neglect and Infidelity

It  is an easy thing for the holy soul, however high the state of its advancement, to separate itself from the condition of present acceptance and communion. Nothing more is wanted to bring about this deplorable result, than the least intentional neglect, the least known and deliberate infidelity.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CLXIII.

God Desires Human Happiness

God's nature, including all his acts and feelings, corresponds precisely to the truth and relations of things. If he is a perfect being, it cannot be otherwise.  It is not possible for him, being what he is, to sunder himself from the things he has made, and from the relations they sustain to himself and each other; nor to act otherwise, and to be otherwise, than in perfect consistency with such things and relations.

Among other works which are to be attributed to him, God has formed moral agents. Of all his various works, this is, in some respects, the greatest. He has formed angels; he has formed men. The mere fact that he has made them, which involves the additional fact of the relationship of cause and effect, in other words, of father and child, constitutes an alliance, which is both an alliance of morality and an alliance of the affections In other words, he is allied to them by duty and allied to them by love.

If God is a good and holy being, it is not possible for him to create a being or beings susceptible of happiness, without making provision for their happiness, and without rejoicing in their happiness. To be indifferent to and not to rejoice in the happiness of his creatures, would be the characteristic of an evil and not of a good being. But no moral being which God has created can be truly and permanently happy without loving God and all other beings as God would have them love; in other words, without being holy. We come, then, to the conclusion, that another and very great source of God’s happiness is the contemplation of the holiness and happiness of his creatures. If they are holy, they cannot be otherwise than happy; and if they are happy, God must be happy in them.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 7, Chapter 12.

How Can the Holy Become More Holy?

If a person is holy, how can he be more holy? If he is perfectly holy, how can he increase in holiness? These are questions, which are frequently asked, and which it is desirable satisfactorily to answer.

That a thing may be perfect in its nature, and yet be susceptible of growth or advancement in degree, is, I suppose, a matter of common observation. An oak, when it first rises above the surface of the ground, is so small and weak, that it may be easily trodden under foot; and yet it is as really and truly an oak, as when it subsequently stands forth in the strength and stature of an hundred years. A human being is in his nature as much a human being in the period of infancy, as in the subsequent expansion and growth of manhood. And so consider a man in relation to any intellectual power of the mind, or in relation to any appetite or affection of the mind, and the same view may very properly be taken. A person is a reasoner, for instance; he understands perfectly the principles and process of reasoning, and he may be able to apply the principles and process perfectly in a given case, and yet under the favorable influence of the law of Habit, he may much increase the promptness and facility, and consequent perfection, in the operations of this mental faculty. Again, an intemperate man may become perfectly temperate, and yet we all  know the general fact, that one, who is thus entirely reformed from intemperance, is more likely to be overcome by temptation in the earlier periods of his reformation, than when subsequently the temperate principle has acquired growth and strength.

Christlikeness: Sympathy

We propose to mention briefly some of the traits of character, which are conspicuous in the life of our Savior; and which present themselves particularly to our notice and observation; beginning with those, which, in consequence of their close alliance with the constitution of human nature, seem to have a natural as well as a religious character.

And accordingly we proceed to remark, in the first place, that the Savior, considered in his human nature, was a man of SYMPATHY. And in making this remark, we mean to imply, that he was a man of sympathy on natural as well as on religious principles; sympathetic as a man, as well as  sympathetic as a religious man. And as such, it is very obvious from the Scriptures, that he felt a deep interest in all those, who are the proper objects both of natural and religious sympathy; for the sick, for the poor, the ignorant, the tempted, the suffering of all classes and conditions. Although he loved religious retirement, and knew more than any one else the inestimable privilege of being alone with God, he felt deeply the claims of a common humanity; and in obedience to those claims came forth, and lived, and suffered among men; weeping with those who wept and rejoicing with those who rejoiced. He gave no countenance to an exclusively solitary religion; a religion, which under the name of meditation and prayer, shuts itself up in barren insulation, and has no deep and operative sympathy with men. Where there were wounds to be healed, whether mentally or bodily; where there were tears to be dried up; whenever and wherever he could add to the amount of human happiness or detract from the sum of human misery, he was present.

He deeply sympathized with those, who are the subjects of religious trials and duties, especially with the beginners in the divine life, with the weak ones and lambs of his flock. Accordingly he adapted his instructions to their capacity of understanding; and also to their present degree of advancement and strength of purpose. And hence it is, that on a certain occasion after having made some communications to his disciples, he added, "I have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear them now."  It  is expressly said, in allusion to this interesting trait of his character; "a bruised reed he shall not break and smoking flax he shall not quench."

It is hardly necessary to add, that those, who, in experiencing the inward restoration; have been raised anew in the image of Christ's likeness, will exhibit this interesting trait in a marked degree. There can be no such thing as a truly holy heart, which is destitute of a pure and deep sympathy.

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

The Source of Happiness in the Soul

"Keep thy heart with all diligence; for out of it are  the issues of life."  Prov. iv. 23.
"Let the heart of them rejoice that seek the Lord." Ps. cv. 3.

The soul hath power, through God's mysterious plan,
To mold anew and to assimilate
The outward incidents that wait on man,
And make them like his hidden, inward state.
If there's a storm within, then all things round
The inward storm to clouds and darkness changes;
But inward light makes outward light abound,
And o'er external things in beauty ranges.
If but the soul be right, submissive, pure,
It stamps whate'er takes place with peace and bliss;
If fierce, revengeful, and unjust, 'tis sure
From outward things to draw unhappiness.
Then watch, and chiefly watch, the inward part,
For all is right and well, if there's a holy heart.

— American Cottage Life (1850) XVIII.