The Desire to Tell the Truth

Among the Propensive tendencies may properly be reckoned the principle of Veracity; that is to say, the disposition, which is evidently natural to the human mind, to utter the truth. It would not be easy to exaggerate the importance of this principle; but it is well known, that there are influences at work, originating in selfishness and in unbelief, which frequently pervert its action. But if unbelief is the enemy of the correct action of this important principle; faith, on the other hand, is its strong friend. 

I think that it is one of the striking evidences of a man of strong faith, that he both speaks the truth, and has confidence in the truth. In his intercourse with men, he does not speak rudely and unkindly, but he tells his simple, unvarnished story in a simple and true spirit. “His yea is YEA, and his nay, NAY.” He may sometimes speak with emphasis; but never with exaggeration. He may regard, as he ought to regard, the proprieties both of language and of manner; but he cannot, as a man of true faith in God, attach to his statements any embellishments of word or any devices of action, which will alter, even slightly, the aspect of the reality of things. 

And accordingly, believing in God as a God, who has declared of himself, that he cannot lie, and deeply desirous of bearing the divine image in this respect as well as in other respects, he utters his words in humble but unchangeable sincerity and uprightness; and although he is conscious that they are unsustained by the artifices of unbelief, he knows equally well who will make them good in the end.

— edited from The Life of Faith, Part 2, Chapter 5.

 

Receiving by Faith

It is well understood that we must pray in faith. No petition to God, which is not attended with confidence in his character and his word, can be acceptable to him. But I suppose that it is not so generally understood and recognized that, in most cases, we must receive by faith, as well as pray by faith; that faith is as necessary in the reception of the thing petitioned for, as in the petition itself.

In order the better to understand this subject, we would remark, in the first place, that every Christian, who humbly and sincerely addresses his Maker, may reasonably expect an answer. It does not well appear how a perfectly just and holy Being could impose on his creatures the duty of prayer, without recognizing the obligation of returning an answer of some kind. In making this remark, we imply, of course, that the prayer is a sincere one. An insincere prayer, just so far as insincerity exists, is not entitled to be regarded as prayer, in any proper sense of the term. Our first position, therefore, is, that every person, who utters a sincere prayer, may reasonably expect an answer, and that in fact an answer always is given, although it is not always understood and received. And this appears to be entirely in accordance with the Scriptures. “Ask, and it shall be given unto you; seek and ye SHALL find; knock and it SHALL be opened unto you. For every one that asketh RECEIVETH; and he that seeketh FINDETH; and to him, that knocketh, it shall be OPENED.”

But it becomes now an important inquiry, What is the true and just answer of God to the petitions of his people? It seems to us that it is, and it cannot be any thing else, than the decision of his own infinitely just and omniscient mind, that he will give to the supplicant or withhold, just as he sees best. In other words, the true answer to prayer is God’s deliberate purpose or will, existing in connection with the petition and all the circumstances of the petition.

But some will say, perhaps, that on this system we sometimes get our answer, without getting what we ask for; and that God’s decision may not correspond with our own desire. But this objection is met by a moment’s consideration of the nature of prayer. There never was true prayer, there never can be true prayer, which does not recognize, either expressly or by implication, an entire submission to the divine will. The very idea of prayer implies a right on the part of the person to whom the prayer is addressed, either to give or to withhold the petition. And the existence of such a right on the part of God implies a correlative obligation on the other party to submit cheerfully to his decisions. To ask absolutely, without submission to God’s will, is not to pray, but to demand. A demand is as different from true prayer, as a humble request is from an imperative order. A request God always regards; he always treats it with kindness and justice; but a demand cannot be properly addressed to Him, nor can it properly be received by Him.

The true model of the spirit of supplication, even in our greatest necessities, is to be found in the Savior’s prayer at the time of his agony in the garden. “And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me. Nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt.” True prayer, therefore, that prayer, which can be suitably addressed to the Supreme Being, and that which it is suitable for an imperfect and limited mind to offer, always involves the condition, whether it be expressed or not, that the petition is agreeable to the divine will. This condition is absolutely essential to the nature of the prayer. There is no acceptable prayer, there is no true prayer without it. Such being the nature of the prayer, the answer to the prayer will correspond to it, viz., it will always be the decision of the divine mind, whatever that decision may be, made up in view of the petition, and of all the attendant circumstances.

— edited from The Life of Faith Part 1, Chapter 17.

Receiving The Sacrament

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

---

When she entered upon the twelfth year of her age, she proposed to partake of the sacrament of the Eucharist.

She acknowledges that for some time previous she had been remiss in religious duties. Some jealousies and disaffections, as is not unfrequently the case, had sprung up among the younger members of her father's family. A feeling of dissatisfaction and melancholy seems to have entered her mind. And as if weary of God, she gave up what little religious inclination and feeling she had, saying, "she was none the better for it," and wickedly implying in the remark, that the troubles connected with religion exceeded the benefit resulting from it. I think it would not be correct to say, that she had given up religion; but rather had given up many favorable feelings and many outward practices, which have a connection with religion. And this remark will perhaps be the better understood, when we say in explanation, that, although she had been interested in religion, it does not appear that she possessed those traits or qualities which really constitute it. Prompted, partly by example, and partly by serious impressions, she had sought it, but had not found it. Her religious interest, as we have already had occasion to notice, varied at different times. At one time, in particular, it seems to have been very great. She seems to have had convictions of sin; she had some desires to live in God's guidance and favor; she formed good resolutions; she had a degree of inward consolation. But when we examine these experiences closely, I think we shall find reason for saying, that such desires, convictions, and resolutions, which often lay near the surface of the mind without stirring very much its inward depths, were, in her case at least, the incidents and preparatives of religion, rather than religion itself. The great inward Teacher, the Holy Ghost, had not as yet dispossessed the natural life, and given a new life in Christ. She herself intimates that her religion was chiefly in appearance; and that self, and not the love of God, was at the bottom.

The suggestion to partake of the sacrament of the Supper, and thus by an outward act at least, to array herself more distinctly on the Lord's side, seems to have originated with her father. In order to bring about what he had near at heart, and which was in accordance with the principles of the church of which he was a member, he placed her again at the Ursuline Seminary. Her paternal half-sister, who still resided there, and who appears to have had some increased and leading responsibility as an instructress, pleased with the suggestion, but at the same time aware of her unfortunate state of mind, labored assiduously to give rise to better inward dispositions. The labors of this patient and affectionate sister, who knew what it was both to believe and to pray, and for whom religion seems to have had a charm above every thing else, were so effectual, that Jeanne Marie now thought, as she expresses it,  "of giving herself to God in good earnest."  The day at length arrived; she felt that the occasion was too important to be trifled with; she made an outward confession of her sins, with apparent sincerity and devoutness, and partook of the sacramental element for the first time with a considerable degree of satisfaction. But the result showed that the heart was not reached. The day of her redemption had not come. The season and its solemnity passed away, without leaving an effectual impression. The sleeping passions were again awaked. "My faults and failings," she says, "were soon repeated, and drew me off from the care and the duties of religion." She grew tall; her features began to develop themselves into that beauty which afterwards distinguished her. Her mother, pleased with her appearance, indulged her in dress.. The combined power of her personal and mental attractions were felt in the young and unreflecting attachments of persons of the other sex. The world resumed its influence, and Christ was in a great degree forgotten.

Such are the changes which often take place in the early history of religious experience. To-day there are serious thoughts, awakened and quickened feelings, and good resolutions; everything wears a propitious aspect. To-morrow, purposes are abandoned, feelings vanish; and the reality of the world takes the place of the anticipations of religion. Today the hearts of mothers and sisters, and of other friends, who have labored long and prayed earnestly for the salvation of those who are dear to them, are cheered and gladdened. To-morrow they find the solicitations to pleasure prevailing over the exhortations to virtue; and those who had been serious and humble for a time, returning again to the world. But it is often the case, that these alternations of feeling, which it is not easy always to explain, have an important connection, under the administration of a higher and divine providence, with the most favorable results.

They may, in many cases, be regarded as constituting a necessary part of that inward training, which the soul must pass through, before it reaches the position of true submission and of permanent love. They show us the great strength of that attachment which binds us to attractions which perish, the things of time and sense. They leave a deep impression of the forbearance and long-suffering of God. They teach the necessity of the special and powerful operations of divine grace, without which the heart, naturally alienated from all attachment to the true object of its love, would perish in its worldly idolatry.

— edited from The Life of Madam Guyon Volume 1, Chapter 2.

Childish Mockery of Her Faith

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

---

While resident at the House of the Benedictines, though early in life, she appears to have received some religious ideas, and to have been the subject of some religious impressions. She speaks in particular of a dream, in which she seemed to have a very distinct conception of the ultimate misery of impenitent sinners, as making a deep impression on her mind. Aroused by the images of terror which were then presented to her, and operated upon by other circumstances which were calculated to awaken her religious sensibilities, she became very thoughtful, and exhibited at this early period a considerable interest in religious things.

She was too young to appreciate fully the relation existing between herself and the Infinite Mind; but the idea of God was so far developed to her opening but vigorous conceptions, that she inwardly and deeply recognized his claims to her homage and her love. She endeavored to conform to these convictions, not only by doing in other respects whatever seemed to be the will of God, but by openly and frankly expressing her determination to lead a religious life.

Happy in these solemn views and determinations, she one day, with a frankness perhaps greater than her prudence, remarked in the presence of her associates, that she was ready to become a martyr for God. The girls who resided with her at the Benedictines, not altogether pleased that one so young should go so far before them in a course so honorable, and supposing perhaps that they discovered some ingredients of human pride mingling with religious sincerity, came to the conclusion to test such enlarged pretensions. By representations more nicely adjusted than either true or honorable, they persuaded her that God in his providences had suddenly but really called her to the endurance of that martyrdom for which she had exhibited and professed a mind so fully prepared. They found her true to what she had previously professed. And having permitted her to offer up her private supplications, they conducted her to a room selected for the purpose, with all those circumstances of deliberateness and solemnity, which were appropriate to so marked an occasion. They spread a cloth upon the floor, upon which she was required to kneel, and which was destined to receive her blood. One of the older girls then appeared in the character of an executioner, and lifted a large cutlass, with the apparent intention of separating her head from her body. At this critical moment, overcome by her fears, which were stronger than her young faith, she cried out, that she was not at liberty to die without the consent of her father..  The girls, in the spirit of triumph, declared that it was a mere excuse to escape what was prepared for her. And assuring her that God would not accept as a martyr one who had not a martyr's spirit, they insultingly let her go.

This transaction, which was so cruel in its application, although it, probably originated in thoughtlessness as much or more than in unkindness, had a marked effect upon her mind. Young as she was, she was old enough to perceive, that she had not only been open but voluntary in her professions; that she had been tried, and been found wanting. Those religious consolations, which she had previously experienced, departed. Something in her conscience reproached her, that she either wanted courage or faith, to act and to suffer, under all circumstances and without any reserve, in the cause of her heavenly Father. It seemed to her, in the agitation of her spirit, that she had offended him, and that there was now but little hope of his support and favor. Thus, as in many other similar cases, the religious tendency, unkindly crushed in the very bud of its promise, withered and died.

[TO BE CONTINUED] 

— from The life of Madame Guyon (1877) Volume 1. Chapter 1.

We Pray by Faith, We Recieve by Faith

It is well understood that we must pray in faith. No petition to God, which is not attended with confidence in his character and his word, can be acceptable to him. But I suppose that it is not so generally understood and recognized that, in most cases, we must receive by faith, as well as pray by faith; that faith is as necessary in the reception of the thing petitioned for, as in the petition itself.

Every Christian, who humbly and sincerely addresses his Maker, may reasonably expect an answer. It does not well appear how a perfectly just and holy Being could impose on his creatures the duty of prayer, without recognizing the obligation of returning an answer of some kind. In making this remark, we imply, of course, that the prayer is a  sincere  one. An insincere prayer, just so far as insincerity exists, is not entitled to be regarded as prayer, in any proper sense of the term. Our first position, therefore, is, that every person, who utters a sincere prayer, may reasonably expect an answer, and that in fact an answer always is given, although it is not always understood and received. And this appears to be entirely in accordance with the Scriptures. "Ask, and it  SHALL  be given unto you; seek and ye SHALL find; knock and it  SHALL be  opened unto you. For every one that asketh RECEIVETH; and he that seeketh FINDETH; and to him, that knocketh, it shall be OPENED."

But it becomes now an important inquiry, What is the true and just answer of God to the petitions of his people? It seems to us that it is, and it cannot be any thing else, than the decision of his own infinitely just and omniscient mind, that he will give to the supplicant or withhold, just as he sees best. In other words the true answer to prayer is God's deliberate purpose or will, existing in connection with the petition and all the circumstances of the petition.

But some will say, perhaps, that on this system we sometimes get our answer, without getting what we ask for; and that God's decision may not correspond with our own desire. But this objection is met by a moment's consideration of the nature of prayer. There never was true prayer, there never can be true prayer, which does not recognize, either expressly or by implication, an entire submission to the divine will. The very idea of prayer implies a right on the part of the person to whom the prayer is addressed, either to give or to withhold the petition. And the existence of such a right on the part of God implies a correlative obligation on the other party to submit cheerfully to his decisions. To ask absolutely, without submission to God's will, is not to pray, but to demand. A demand is as different from true prayer, as a humble request is from an imperative order. A request God always regards; he always treats it with kindness and justice; but a demand cannot be properly addressed to Him, nor can it properly be received by Him.

The true model of the spirit of supplication, even in our greatest necessities, is to be found in the Savior's prayer at the time of his agony in the garden. "And he went a little farther, and fell on his face, and prayed, saying, O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me;  nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." True prayer, therefore, that prayer, which can be suitably addressed to the Supreme Being, and that which it is suitable for an imperfect and limited mind to offer, always involves the condition, whether it be expressed or not, that the petition is agreeable to the divine will. This condition is absolutely essential to the nature of the prayer. There is no acceptable prayer, there is no true prayer without it. Such being the nature of the prayer, the answer to the prayer will correspond to it, viz., it will always be the decision of the divine mind, whatever that decision may be, made up in view of the petition, and of all the attendant circumstances.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 9.

A Fixed Determination to Belong to God

We often speak of desiring or wishing to be the Lord's; but there is not much ground for supposing that there is any considerable degree of sincerity or strength in such desires, if they stop short of a fixed determination or resolve to be his.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CXXIV.

Prayer and Action

No person can be considered as praying in sincerity for a specified object, who does not employ all the appropriate natural means which he can, to secure the object.

— Religious Maxims (1846) CXXI.