On Thomas C. Upham's Case Against War

\Dennis Metzler presents Thomas C. Upham's case for pacifism:

 

 

Metzler has followed this up with videos on Pacifism among the Early Pentecostals, as well. 

The Land of Rest

"Oh that I had wings like a dove! for then I would flee away and be at rest." — Ps. 66. 6.

There is no quietude in mortal life,
But, like the fretful and imperious sea,
Whose angry surges heave incessantly,
'Tis toss'd and driven with eternal strife.
Oh when, oh when, shall a deliverance rise
To him, who feels the ceaseless war within
Of truth with falsehood, holiness with sin?
Alas! 'Tis not on earth, but in the skies.
'Tis there we find, and only there, a rest,
Never attained, and never known before;
'Tis there sweet peace shall soothe the weary breast,
And songs re-echo from that happy shore.
Then murmur not, but from the future borrow
Assured hope of joy, to crown this life of sorrow.

— The Religious Offering  XXVII.

Inward Crucifixion and Adverse Circumstances

The inwardly crucified man receives with entire acquiescence and peace of spirit all adverse occurrences of whatever nature, the misrepresentations and rebukes of his fellow-men, the various injuries of body and estate, the disappointments of broken friendship and violated faith, the natural and unavoidable disruptions of social and family ties, and whatever other forms of human affliction exist. Whatever comes upon him, he feels that he deserves it. He opens not his mouth, except to praise the hand that is laid upon him. Satan, it is true, avails himself of the trials of his situation, and tempts him to evil thoughts; but he is enabled with divine assistance to resist them and to triumph over them. It seems to him a light thing to suffer any thing which God sees fit to impose. It is true, that the trials which he endures sometimes occasion sorrow and even deep sorrow; but it is a sorrow which is consistent with reconciliation to his lot and even happiness; a sorrow without repining, grief without bitterness.

— from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 12.

Seek Holiness, Not Consolation

Seek holiness rather than consolation. Not that consolation is to be despised, or thought lightly of; but solid and permanent consolation is the result rather than the forerunner of holiness; therefore he, who seeks consolation as a distinct and independent object, will miss it. Seek and possess holiness, and consolation, (not perhaps often in the form of ecstatic and rapturous joys, but rather of solid and delightful peace,) will follow, as assuredly as warmth follows the dispensation of the rays of the sun. He, who is holy, must be happy.

— from Religious Maxims (1846), II.

The Fruits of Suffering

Oh LET ME SUFFER, till I know
The good that cometh from the pain,
Like seeds beneath the wintry snow.
That wake in flowers and golden grain.

Oh LET ME SUFFER, till I find
What plants of sorrow can impart,
Some gift, some triumph of the mind,
Some flower, some fruitage of the heart.

The hour of anguish passes by;
But in the spirit there remains
The outgrowth of its agony.
The compensation of its pains;

In meekness, which suspects no wrong,
In patience, which endures control.
In faith, which makes the spirit strong,
In peace and purity of soul.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXXIX.

Meekness of Spirit

"Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are the peace-makers: for they shall be called the children of God." Mat. 5.5, 9.

When there are clouds and tempests in the mind,
And peace and mercy are by wrath displaced,
It  breaks the plan of love which heaven designed,
And turns the blooming garden to a waste.
Then keep thy soul in peace and quietness,
And strive each evil passion to restrain,
And God will smile upon thee, and will bless,
And his bright image in thy breast maintain,
He, who did bow his blessed head in woe,
The Savior of the meek and lowly heart,
Did he not pray for those who struck the blow,
And bless the ruffian hand that aim'd the dart?
Oh, be like Him, calm, patient, self-controll'd,
He, who can rule himself, has richer wealth than gold.

— The Religious Offering (1835) Scripture Sonnets XVII.

The Millenial Day

"They shall not hurt nor destroy in all my holy mountain: for the earth shall be full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea." — Isa. 11. 9.

Upon God's Holy Mountain all is peace.
Of clanging arms and cries and wail, no sound
Goes up to mingle with the gentle breeze,
That bears its perfum'd whispers all around.
Beneath its trees that spread their blooming light,
The spotted leopard walks; the ox is there;
The yellow lion stands in conscious might,
Breathing the dewy and illumin'd air.
A little child doth take him by the mane,
And leads him forth, and plays beneath his breast.
Nought breaks the quiet of that blest domain,
Nought mars its harmony and heavenly rest:
Picture divine and emblem of that day,
When peace on earth and truth shall hold unbroken sway.

— The Religious Offering (1835) Scripture Sonnets XII.

Entering Into Rest

It is very obvious, that this state of mind — union with God — cannot be fully understood, except in connection with inward experience. In the language of the author of the Life of Sir Henry Vane, "Divine life must have divine words; words which the Holy Ghost teacheth, to give its own character." [Life of Sir Henry Vane, anonymous, printed in 1662.] Therefore we will not attempt to pursue the topic any further than to say, that the state of union with God, when it is the subject of distinct consciousness, constitutes, without being necessarily characterized by revelations or raptures, the soul's spiritual festival, a season of special interior blessedness, a foretaste of heaven. The mind, unaffected by worldly vicissitudes and the strifes and oppositions of men, reposes deeply in a state of happy submission and quietude, in accordance with the expressions in the Epistle to the Hebrews, that those who believe, ENTER INTO REST.

God's Kingdom & Nature

God, in being restored to the human soul and made at peace with it, not only sets up his kingdom in man, but in other things with which man is essentially connected. When the kingdom of God is restored in the human heart, it is restored everywhere. It should not be forgotten, that the world, in all its varieties, is but one system; a connection obviously running through all its parts; each part being sustained by and harmonizing with the others.  The mineral kingdom has a definite relation to the vegetable; the vegetable to the animal; the animal to the sentient; and the sentient to the moral. They expand and develop themselves in progression, and with an infinity of ties and relations. They are parts of one great and harmonious system of arrangements, conceived by one perfect wisdom, and sustained by one perfect love. The completion of all is in man. He stands at the head; and if all are made for man, it is equally true that man is made for all.

The Highest Homage

The soul in the state of true peace or rest, is the kingdom of God, because it constantly renders him the highest homage. And it does so, because its state of peace or rest is the result, and may be said to be the completion, of every other state. It is not necessary for a soul, in such a state, to make costly sacrifices, to go to distant places, or to bow in temples, as if the true homage of the heart could be rendered only or chiefly by outward acts. Wherever it is, provided it is where God in his providence requires it to be, it is itself the highest worship and homage of God. The Infinite Mind delights in it, as a soul continually offering to himself the highest reverence and praise. The state of holy peace is more than that of penitence, because, although penitence implies a sorrow for sin, it does not necessarily imply a conquest over sin. It is more than good desire, because such desires are not acceptable in the sight of God without faith attending them. It is more than faith, because it is the end, of which faith is the means or instrument. It is more than gratitude, because it includes gratitude, as a whole includes a part. It is the result, the expression, the completion of the whole. It is man, harmonizing with God. It is God, dwelling and living in man.

He, therefore, who is in true peace of spirit, is a continual worshiper. He is himself his temple, and his heart is his altar. The fire is always burning; the incense always ascends.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 12.

One Authority

A soul in peace is the true kingdom of God, among other things, because it recognizes but one authority. Its eye is "single;" looking in one direction, and having knowledge of but one master. It feels the deep import of the Savior's words, "Ye cannot serve God and Mammon." And while it recognizes but one authority, in distinction from a two-fold or divided authority over it, it cheerfully submits to that authority and harmonizes with it. It thinks what God thinks, desires what God desires, wills what God wills.

On the other hand, a soul not at peace is one which is rebellious against its rightful master, or which wickedly proposes to serve two rival masters at the same time.

The True Kingdom of God

The soul in peace is the true kingdom of God. Such it is virtually asserted to be in the Scriptures; and such it is in fact. And, if this be the case, it is important to understand and appreciate an idea, which is interesting in itself, and is susceptible of applications which are not less so.

In saying that the soul is God’s kingdom, it should be kept in mind that the term KINGDOM is relative in its meaning.  It implies the idea of a governor, as well as of that which is governed. Accordingly, it is not only the place where the king dwells, but the place of the king's authority. It is not only the king's home, which is the original meaning of the term, but the place which the king rules over.

In a certain sense God rules everywhere. There is no place where he does not dwell. Nor is there any place which excludes his authority; He rules in hell as well as in heaven. He rules also over all earthly things; over things material as well as immaterial. He rules over all moral beings. He rules over men.

Undoubtedly there is an universal kingdom; — a kingdom including all things. But, ordinarily, when we speak of God's kingdom on earth, we mean his spiritual kingdom, — the kingdom of mind, and not of matter; the kingdom of hearts, and not of outward forms and localities. The divine throne, erected everywhere, is especially and emphatically erected in man's spirit. The soul of man, a fit subject for the divine administration, always is, when renovated, and always ought to be, God's kingdom. Hence the remarkable expression of the Savior: "THE KINGDOM OF GOD IS WITHIN YOU."

But in speaking of the human soul as a fit subject for the divine administration, and in saying that it ought to be God's kingdom, we imply, that, under certain circumstances, by doing or being what it ought not to do or ought not to be, it is not God's kingdom. And thus we come to our proposition.  It is the soul IN PEACE, (that peace which the Savior speaks of when he says, "Peace I leave with you,  my  peace I give unto you,") the soul in peace, and not under any other circumstances, which constitutes, in the truest and highest sense, the kingdom of God. "For thus saith the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, In returning and rest shall ye be saved. In quietness and confidence, [that is to say, in the quietness and peace of faith,]  shall be your strength." Isa. 30:15.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 12.

God's Inward Teaching

If thou wouldst have God's INWARD SPEECH
The center of thy being reach,
And utter truths, that bear the sign,
And impress of a source divine;

Take heed, that all is free within
From pride and passion's noisy din,
Which turn away, and leave unheard
The whispers of the heavenly word.

'Tis when no angry billows roll,
And toss and agitate the soul;
'Tis in the calmness of the mind,
With pride subdued, and will resign'd;

That God's interior voice is near,
And faith bends low the listening ear,
And lessons high and pure are given,
Which breathe of peace, and truth, and heaven.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXIV.

Spiritual Quiet and Happiness

Happy, then, is the man, of whom it can be said, in the scriptural sense of the terms, he is quiet  in spirit; — a state of mind which can exhibit itself in the most trying situations, and with more effect and beauty perhaps than on other occasions. Smite the quietist on one cheek, and he turns the other. Drive him from his home, and the smile of his cheerful heart lights the walls of a cavern or a dungeon. He returns love for hatred, blessing for cursing. When dying by the hand of his enemies, his language is, "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do."

"In quietness," says Isaiah, "shall be strength." The quiet man is necessarily victor, — conquering by the force of sentiments which are eternal, and not by the incidents of situation which are perpetually changing. It  is not the body which constitutes the man, but the divine principle at the center. A man is, according to his faith.  And the man, who treads the dungeon or the scaffold, with the acquiescent belief that it is the allotment of Providence, is no prisoner, because he has all the freedom which he asks, and can lose nothing by the death which he himself cheerfully welcomes. He conquers by that power to suffer which is given him through faith. And the power, which renders him victorious, gives him divine peace and happiness.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 11.

The Quiet Person of Faith

The religiously quiet man, like other men less advanced in grace, has experienced the sharpness of the inward contest; but God has helped him. Having striven with his corrupt nature, having passed through, as it were, the storms of regeneration, he has at last entered into the haven of inward rest.

Inwardly instructed in the limitations of the human understanding, he rests from reasonings in all cases where reasoning owes homage to faith. God is his reason. Taught by the great Teacher of the soul, that the true end of desires is to be found in the wisdom of the Infinite, he quietly ceases from all those desires which have their origin in a corrupted nature, and finds all his aims and purposes harmonized and fulfilled in the fulfillment of God's purposes. God is his desire. While he condemns sin, he is not impatient with it; but bears with it in the same spirit of calmness that God does; never doubting that, in the great issue of things which is rapidly approaching, the unity and love of God will over­come the divisions and hatreds of Satan. Devoted to the will of God to the extent of his power, and resting firmly upon the promises in unshaken faith, he is exempt alike from the reproofs of conscience and the agitations of fear.

A divine peace, of which God alone could be the author, is written upon his heart, his countenance, his actions, his whole life. The outward man is the calm mirror of the man within. He sees the commotions of the world; he beholds the surges and hears the noise of its contentions; but it does not move him from his position; it does not alter the fixedness of his purpose;  it does not disturb the peace of his spirit. His countenance, written over with signatures which have their source in the centre of his spirit, shows neither the scowl of anger, nor the distortions of fear. Not that he is indifferent to the strife; but he believes and knows that the God in whom he trusts has power to control it. He sees the calm beyond.

Such men, more than any others, bear the image of God; whose mighty power is established and operates in peace and in silence. A perfect being is, by the very fact of his perfection, unalterably tranquil. Jesus Christ, who was God revealed in humanity, and who, therefore, was the model of the perfect man, was a quiet man; he did not attract the world's notice by his noise. On the contrary, the world, disappointed that he came without observation, was attracted to him, contrary to what is usual with it, by the calm but mighty influence of his purity and gentleness. Meek, quiet, loving, doing what the divine order of things called him to do, he gave no occasion for reconsiderations and repentance, but left the evidence of his divinity in the perfection of everything he said and did. And in all cases will it be found, in the history of all good men of all ages, that the harmony of thought with truth, of feeling with thought, and of conscience with feeling; in other words, the perfect adjustment of character, will find its result and its testimony in inward and outward peace.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 11.

Quietude and Inordinate Desires

The state of internal quietude implies a cessation or rest from unrestrained and inordinate desires and affections.

Such a cessation becomes comparatively easy, when God has become the ruling idea in the thoughts; and when other ideas, which are vain, wandering, and in other ways inconsistent with it, are excluded. This rest or stillness of the affections, when it exists in the highest degree, is secured by perfect faith in God, necessarily resulting in perfect love. We have already had occasion to say that perfect faith implies, in its results, perfect love. How can we possibly have perfect faith in God, perfect confidence that he will do all things right and well, when at the same time we are wanting in love to him? From perfect faith, therefore, perfect love necessarily flows out, baptizing, as it were, and purifying all the subordinate powers of the soul. In other words, under the influence of this predominating principle, the perfect love of God resting upon perfect faith in God, the harmony of the soul becomes restored; the various appetites, propensities, and affections act each in their place and all concurrently; there are no disturbing and jarring influences, and the beautiful result is that quietness of spirit, which is declared to be "in the sight of God of great price."

Those, who are privileged by divine assistance, to enjoy this interior rest and beautiful stillness of the passions, are truly lovely to the beholder. The wicked are like the troubled sea, that cannot rest, tossed about by conflicting passions, and are not more unhappy in themselves, than they are unlovely in the sight of holy beings. There is a want of interior symmetry and union; that guiding principle of divine love, which consolidates and perfects the characters of holy beings, is absent; the lower parts of their nature have gained the ascendency, and there is internal jarring and discord and general moral deformity. In such a heart God does not and cannot dwell. How different is the condition of that heart, which is pervaded by the power of a sanctifying stillness, and which, in the cessation of its own jarring noise, is prepared to listen to the "still small voice!" It is here that God not only takes up his abode, but continually instructs, guides, and consoles.

On this part of the subject, in order to prevent any misapprehension, we make two brief remarks. The first is, that the doctrine of stillness or quietude of the desires and passions, does not necessarily exclude an occasional agitation arising from the instinctive part of our nature. The INSTINCTS are so constituted, that they act, not by cool reason and reflection, but by an inexpressibly quick and agitated movement. Such is their nature. Such agitation is entirely consistent with holiness. And it is not unreasonable to suppose, that even the amazement and fears, which are ascribed to our blessed Savior at certain periods of his life, are to be attributed to the operation of this part of his nature, which is perfectly consistent with entire resignation and with perfect confidence in God. The other remark is, that the doctrine of internal quietude, pervading and characterizing the action of the sensibilities, is not inconsistent with feelings of displeasure, and even of anger. Our Savior was at times grieved, displeased, angry; as he had abundant reason to be, in view of the hardness of heart and the sins, which were exposed to his notice. Anger, (so far as it is not purely  instinctive, which at its first rise and for a mere moment of time it may be,) is, in its nature, entirely consistent with reason and reflection; is consistent with the spirit of supplication, and consistent also, even in its strong exercises, with entire agreement and relative quietude in all parts of the soul. In other words, although there is deep feeling in one part of the soul, the other parts, such as the reason, the conscience, and the will, are so entirely consentient, that the great fact of holy, internal quietude, which depends upon a perfect adjustment of the parts to each other, is secured. A strong faith in God, existing in the interior recesses of the soul, and inspiring a disposition to look with a constant eye to his will alone; keeps every thing in its right position. Hence there still remains the great and important fact of holy internal rest, even at such trying times.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 10.

Peace and Holiness

We proceed further to say, in the consideration of the elements of true spiritual peace, that the degree of peace will correspond to the advancement of the soul in holi­ness. And, one reason of this, among others, is, that the new principle of holiness, when it has become fully engrafted and established in the soul, has all the attributes of a new nature. It certainly is not contrary either to the facts or the reason of the case, to speak of the ruling principle, in a soul which is fully united with God, as operating naturally. And natural action, that is to say, action flowing from nature, in distinction from that which originates from forced efforts of the will made against nature, — is, of course, easy, quiet, peaceful action. But it is necessary to give some explanations of this view.

That which acts naturally has a natural life. A natural life is that life which develops itself in accordance with the principles of its own nature, and which, in doing so, is true and harmonious to itself. The sinner, in his unregenerated state, lives and acts naturally in sinning; because that which he does is not only his own doing, but is done voluntarily and easily, and harmonizes with its own central principle of movement. The central principle in fallen man is self. The great law of selfishness, which requires him to place himself first, and God and humanity under him, regulates all his actions. From this principle, which operates as an internal and life-giving force, his actions flow out as constantly and as naturally as trees grow in a soil which is appropriate to them, and as waters flow from mountains to the ocean.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 8, Chapter 9.

Penitence

Oh, say when errors oft and black
Have deeply stained the inmost soul,
Who then shall call the wanderer back,
Who make the broken spirit whole?
Who give the tortured and depressed
The grateful balm, that soothes to rest?

When storms are driven across the sky,
The rainbow decks the troubled clouds,
And there is one whose love is nigh,
Where grief annoys and darkness shrouds;
He'll stretch abroad his bow of peace,
And bid the storm and tempest cease.

Then go, vain world, 'tis time to part,
Too long and darkly hast thou twined
Around this frail, corrupted heart,
And poisoned the immortal mind;
Oh, I have known the pangs that spring
From pleasures beak and folly's sting.

Hail, Prince of Heaven! Hail, Bow of rest!
Oh, downward scatter mercy's ray,
And all the darkness of my breast
Shall quickly turn to golden day.
With Thee is peace; no griefs annoy;
And tears are grateful gems of joy.

— Religious Maxims (1846).

Recognizing the Spirit's Guidance: Tranquility

When we are led by the Holy Spirit, there will be a subdued, tranquil, and well regulated state of the natural sensibilities, in distinction from the moral sensibilities or conscience; that is to say, of the various appetites, the propensive principles, and the affections. It is well understood, that when we are led by the world or by Satan, the various natural propensities and affections, which constitute what we understand by the natural sensibilities, are, in general, ill regulated, agitated, and turbulent. A really worldly man is either externally, or internally, an agitated man; generally in movement and generally discordant with himself; resembling the troubled sea, and casting up to the surface of his spirit mire and dirt. On the contrary, he, who is led by the Holy Spirit, with the exception of those occasional agitations arising from  purely instinctive impulses, which do not recognize the control of reason and the will, is always subdued, patient, quiet.  His natural propensities, which, in persons who have not experienced the same grace, are so turbulent and violent, run peaceably and appropriately in the channels, which God has assigned to them.  His  natural  affections,  which so often become the masters and tyrants of the mind, submit to the authority of conscience and the will. The inroads and shocks of the heaviest afflictions pass over him, and leave his inward submission and his peace unbroken. A divine tranquility is written, upon the emotions and desires, upon the affections that linger upon the past, and upon the hopes that move onward to the future. In this respect, being under this divine and transcendent teaching, he is like his heavenly Father. The Infinite Mind is always tranquil.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 6.

Rest from Desire

How many persons are the subjugated slaves of those inordinate appetites, which have their origin in our physical nature! How many are not merely agitated, but consumed, as it were, by the desire of accumulating property! How general and strong is the desire of reputation! Many, in whom other desires are perhaps comparatively feeble, spend anxious days and toilsome nights in seeking for power. But the truly holy person, whose great and only desire is that the will of the Lord may be done, has no desire of these things, or of any other things, except so far as God may see fit to inspire them. And all desires which harmonize with God's arrangements, and have their origin in a divine inspiration, are peaceful and happy.

"Love, pure love," says Mr. Fletcher, in some remarks addressed to Christians professing holiness, "is satisfied with the supreme good, with God. Beware, then, of desiring  anything but Him. Now you desire nothing else. Every other desire is driven out; see that none enter in again. Keep thyself pure; let your eye remain single, and your whole body shall remain full of light. Admit no desire of pleasing food, or any other pleasure of sense; no desire of pleasing the eye or the imagination; no desire of money, of praise, or esteem; of happiness in any creature. You may bring these desires back; but you need not. You may feel them no more. Oh, stand fast in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made you free!"

This passage, written by a man of deep religious experience, clearly involves and sanctions the doctrine that holy souls rest from all desires, except such as are from a divine source. There are, then, two classes of desires; — those which are the product of a fallen and unsanctified nature, and those which are from God. Agitation and sorrow always attend the one class. True peace, the peace of Christ and of angels, is the characteristic of the other.

And we proceed now to say, that the ground of difference between them is this: Desires which are from God are attended with faith; and those which are not from him are without faith. The man of the world is full of desires; but being constantly in doubt whether his desires will be accomplished or not, he is constantly the subject of agitation and grief. But the holy man, being the subject of those desires only which God has inspired within him, cannot doubt that God, who is never disappointed, will fulfill them in his own time and way.  Having  thus two facts in his mental experience at the same time, namely, desire and a belief in the fulfillment of desire, the element of uneasiness, which is involved in the wants of the one, is annulled by the pleasure which is involved in the supply or fullness of the other. In other words, faith stops the cravings of desire, by being itself the "substance" or fulfillment of its object; so that constant desire, supposing it to be constantly existing, is changed into constancy of fruition, constancy of peace.

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