Consecration is the Condition of Advancement in Faith

The human ability must correspond without reserve, and to its utmost extent, to the divine light, whether it be more or less. Knowledge to the extent, in which we are able to conform to what we know, furnishes the basis of obligation. It is a principle of moral philosophy, which is well understood and is considered as very obvious, that our obligations can never be less than our ability and our knowledge. “He, who knoweth his master’s will, and doeth it not, shall be beaten with many stripes.” In other words, the person, who does not correspond to God in accordance with the obligation which God imposes, will not be likely to have the disposition, and certainly will not have the right, to plead the divine promises, and is clearly the subject of God’s marked disapprobation. But to correspond, in the utmost extent of our ability, to all that we actually know and to all that we are now able to know of our duty, is essentially the same thing, perhaps we may say, is precisely the same thing, as to consecrate ourselves entirely to God.

Consecration therefore, as it seems to us, consecration without reserve either as to time or object, is the indispensable condition of inward religious advancement.

Whether, therefore, you have much religion, or little religion, or none at all, follow the divine light; whether it be the light of nature, which only shows us our state of condemnation; or the light of restoring and redeeming grace, which leads us to the Cross, that we may be pardoned there; or the light of that grace, which sanctifies the heart, by exploring its secret recesses and by bringing all into subjection; be it each or all, be it more or less, correspond with all your powers to all that is given, and God will give more. This, if we rightly understand it, is the law of increase in spiritual things, the law of light added to light, of grace, added to grace, of glory brightening in the front of glory.

We find here an answer to the question, often proposed with intense interest, why is it that there are so few cases of assured faith and hope? why is it that there are so few persons, who, under the influences of sanctifying grace, have reached the state of assured or perfected love, and of constant communion with God? The answer is, it is because by not corresponding to the light and grace which they had, they lost that, which they might have had. They would not take the cup of consecration, which they knew to be bitter to the natural taste, and therefore they did not, and could not receive the inward healing, which, in connection with God’s plan of operation, it might have imparted. It is impossible in the nature of things, that a person can have strong faith in God as a father and friend, or that he can love him with unmixed love, when he is conscious that by not consecrating himself he is violating a religious duty. Belief will always sink, and consequently love, which has its foundation in belief, will always sink in proportion to the weakness or defect of the consecrating act.

— The Life of Faith (1852) Part 1, Chapter 15.

Strength from the Cross

"But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world." — Gal. 6.14.

Oh, who shall sing the joyful song at last?
Oh, who shall raise in heaven the conqueror's strain,
O'er foes subdued, and inward vices slain,
And seasons of temptation safely pass'd?
'Tis he, who counts all other things but dross,
When put into the scale with God's dear Son;
Who willingly the Christian race doth run,
And fights and toils and conquers in the cross.
The cross imparts perennial peace within;
The cross resists and scatters outward foes;
'Tis by the cross the saints their victories win,
And rise to glory, as their Savior rose.
Then heed not earthly shame nor earthly loss,
But count it all for good, if thou may'st bear the cross.

— The Religious Offering, Scripture Sonnets XXII.

A Life United to God

It is evident, that the life of Christ, when examined in its elements, was sustained on the two great principles, which have been so often mentioned, viz. of entire consecration and of perfect faith. It is very true, that these two principles, as we have already seen, did not constitute the whole of his inward life; but it cannot be doubted, that they formed the essential basis of it. They were its fundamental elements; the strong pillars on which it rested. In other words, the Savior, in the true spirit of consecration, appeared in the world, not for himself and his own pleasure, but for the simple purpose of doing and suffering the will of his heavenly Father. And, in the fulfillment of this object, he lived, as all his followers ought to live, by the sublime principle of faith, and not by the inferior guidance of open vision. So that his life, to express its great outlines in a single word, was a life united to God by its disruption from every thing else. Or in still other expressions, it was a life so united to God, that it saw, knew, and loved every thing else, including himself, in its relation to the Divine Mind; IN and FOR God, and God ALONE. Happy are they, the features of whose inward existence are framed and fashioned upon this divine model.

He Standeth at the Door

"My head is filled with dew, and my locks with the drops of the night." Cant. v. 9.

The stars are shining from their depths of blue,
And one is standing at the door and knocks;
He  knocks to enter in. His raven locks
Are heavy with the midnight's glittering dew.
He  is our FRIEND; and great his griefs have been,
The thorns, the cross, the garden's deep distress,
Which he hath suff'ered for our happiness;
And shall we not arise, and let him in?
All hail, thou chosen one, thou source of bliss!
Come with thy bleeding feet, thy wounded side;
Alas, for us Thou hast endured all this;
Enter our doors, and at our hearth abide!
Chill are the midnight dews, the midnight air;
Come to our hearts and homes, and make thy dwelling there.

— American Cottage Life (1850).

The Love of the Cross

O Father! Let me bear the Cross,

Make it my daily food,

Though with it Thou dost send the loss

Of every other good.

Take house and lands and earthly fame;

To all I am resigned;

But let me make one earnest claim;

Leave, leave the Cross behind!

I know it costs me many tears,

But they are tears of bliss;

And moments there outweigh the years

Of selfish happiness.

The Cross is Love, to action given;

Love "seeking not its own;"

But finding truth and peace and heaven,

In good to others shown.

The Cross doth live in God's great life,

In Christ's dear heart doth shine;

And how, without its pains and strife

Shall God and Christ be mine?

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XXVIII.

Christ Still Claims His Right to be Heard

We have no controversy with much of that which is known in the history of human knowledge under the name of philosophy. The philosophers have had their time of affirmation; and undoubtedly they have said instructive things on a great variety of subjects. They have felt at liberty to speak with boldness on the topic [of religion]; and sometimes with a smile of incredulity and even of opposition on their lips, as if it were a thing impossible, that the peasant of Nazareth, the man who was crucified, could hold up a light in the presence of the world’s philosophic thought and culture. Nevertheless the child of the humble Judean mother made the attempt. We read that when he was only twelve years of age, the inspiration from the heavens was so strong upon him and his heart was so full, that he entered into this great controversy. And even then his understanding and answers were matters of astonishment. But the hand of the mother, who was chosen to bring him within the sphere of humanity, withdrew him from the contest. Her heart had prophetic intimations of the future; but the time had not yet come. He dwelt in Nazareth, and with his heart open to the influx of the truth, he “increased in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man.” And when in the maturity of manhood he came again into the field, his opponents met him with all the appliances and aids of human learning and wisdom; but ignorant of that divine philosophy which is baptized from the heavens, and therefore greatly disordered and defeated in the argument, they stopped the discussion by nailing Him to the Cross. But there is something in the man of truth which can never die. He passed on. In the language of the Scriptures, he went up on high. And philosophy, not understanding the things which are seen by faith and not by sight, looked here and there but could not find Him.

The teacher of Nazareth, dead but living, no longer a child but clothed with heavenly manhood, and who teaches by means of inspirations and influences wrought in the great school of the human heart, still claims his right to be heard. He is still a teacher of the Absolute Religion.

— edited from Absolute Religion (1873), Chapter 1.

Entire Consecration

If men of earth, for earth's renown,

Are willing long to wait or toil,

Nor shrink to lay existence down

Upon the war-field's bloody soil;­

If there is nought they'll not endure,

If there is nought they will not dare,

To make their hopes, their purpose sure,

Their wealth to gain, their wreath to wear;-

Oh, say, shall we, who bear a name

That intimates our heavenly birth,

Behold our efforts put to shame,

When placed beside the zeal of earth?

'Tis Jesus calls. For his dear sake,

If they their all for earth have given,

Oh, let us haste his cross to take,

And give our hearts, our all for heaven.

— American Cottage Life (1850).

Inward Victory

Smite on! It doth not hurt me now;
The spear hath lost its edge of pain;
And piercing thorns, that bound my brow,
No longer leave their bleeding stain.

What once was woe is changed to bliss;
What once was loss is now my gain;
My sorrow is my happiness;
My life doth live by being slain.

The birth-pangs of those dreadful years
Are like the midnight changed to morn;
And daylight shines upon my tears,
Because the soul's great life is born.

The piercing thorns have changed to flowers;
The spears have grown to sceptres bright;
And sorrow's dark and sunless hours

Become eternal days of light.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XXIV.

Sympathy With God

Holy sympathy, in distinction from mere natural sympathy, is discriminating.  That is to say,  it is restricted and modified, so far as it relates to man, by the operation of the still higher form of the same principle, which may be described as sympathy with God. Holy sympathy, in being the offspring of holy love, is not like that weak sympathy generated from the natural heart, which modifies kindness by selfishness, and seeks a momentary relief of the sufferer rather than the ultimate and greatest good. Having its origin in the Divine Nature, it is always, in its operations and results, subjected to the providence and will of God. And, accordingly, it sometimes exists where it does not find itself at liberty to relieve the suffering for which it feels. It is not in the nature of holy sympathy, however intense it may be, to do anything which is wrong. And, accordingly, the person whose heart harmonizes with God, never undertakes to relieve that suffering which God, in his providence, evidently imposes for the good of him who is afflicted. His sympathy with God's ultimate designs regulates the tendencies of his sympathy for the sufferer.

And thus regulated, the principle of sympathy, springing as it does from holy love, is one of the most important and effective elements of a holy life. It links the divine with the human, the upright with the fallen, the angel with the man. It has been the moving impulse, the life, of good men in all ages of the world. It detached Moses from the court of Egypt, that it might unite him with the sufferers of the desert; it poured its energies into the heart of Paul, and carried him from nation to nation: in modern times, it has carried devoted missionaries into all parts of the world; it moves the hearts of angels, of whom it is said, "there is joy among the angels in heaven over one sinner that repenteth." It achieved its mightiest triumph when the Saviour of the world, clothing himself in human form, chose to be smitten and die upon the cross rather than separate himself from the interests of fallen humanity.

— A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 4, Chapter 7.

Love and Grief

LOVE sometimes scales the mountain height,

In  joys and ecstasies sublime;
But oftener takes the downward flight,
And sheds its tears for woe and crime.
Love and Grief go side by side;
Christ was Love; He bled and died.

Love plucks the flowers of Olivet,
And plays with daylight's fading sea;
But when that parting sun is set,
It seeks thy shades, Gethsemane!
Love and Grief go side by side,
Christ was Love; He bled and died.

Gethsemane! Divinely sent,
Though bitter be its draught of woe,
Is  mix'd with Love's dear element,
And love and tears together flow.
Love and Grief go side by side.
Christ was Love; He bled and died.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XV.

The Life Power of the Blood

He  dies, and from His bleeding veins,
The fountain of His life-blood drains
To cleanse the stains of sins;
And nothing less than that dear tide,
Which flow'd from Jesus' bleeding side,
Can make us pure within.

But underneath that fountain lies
A fount, unseen by outward eyes,
Eternal from above;
Of which the blood is but the sign,
Which gives that blood its power divine;
The deeper fount of LOVE.

LOVE flows beneath the purple flood;
LOVE is the life-power of the blood;
LOVE, offering to be slain;
'T is LOVE that to thy heart applies
The emblem of its sacrifice;
And washes out thy stain.

And wouldst thou learn the heavenly art,
To bear about a holy heart,
Let  kindred love be thine;
The same dear love, which ever flows,
In tears and blood, for others' woes,
And makes thy life divine.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) XII.

A Desire for the Good of All that Exists

We have already said that love necessarily has its object. The object of pure love (and we regard this as an important remark) is existence;  all percipient and sentient existence whatever. So that love, in distinction from every appearance and modification of affection which is not true or pure love, may be defined to be a desire for the good or happiness of everything which exists. And, in accordance with this view, everything which has a being, from the highest to the lowest, whatever its position, whatever its character, the whole infinity of percipient and sentient existence, simply because it has such an existence, is the appropriate object of pure love.

This is a great truth, and one which, it must be admitted, is difficult to be realized by those who have not an instinct of perception and of affirmation in their own purified hearts. Those who are the subjects of this exalted feeling sincerely desire the happiness of all those, whoever or whatever they may be, who are capable of enjoying happiness while, at the same time, it may be so, that they disapprove and perhaps even hate their character; and, accordingly, they love the evil as well as the good, sinners as well as saints.

We  have a striking illustration of the nature of pure love in the case of the Savior. He loved sinners. "He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." It was not for angels, but for erring men, that he  died. He bowed his head upon the cross for those that persecuted him, reviled him, slew him. He loved men, not because they were good, for such they were not, and certainly not because they were evil, because evil can never be the foundation of love, but because they were existences, — percipient and moral existences. He  saw them created with the elements of an eternal being, but destitute, in their fallen state, of those attributes which would make that being a happy one. He saw them destitute of truth which they might possess, of holiness to which they were strangers, the enemies of God when they might be his friends, the heirs of hell when they might be the heirs of heaven. He loved them, therefore, not because they were good, but because they had a sentient, and especially because they had a moral, existence. It was their existence and not their merit; it was what they were capable of being, and not what they were, which brought him down from heaven.

— edited and adapted from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 4, Chapter 1.

A Desire for the Good of All That Exists

Love necessarily has its object. The object of pure love (and we regard this as an important remark) is existence; all percipient and sentient existence whatever. So that love, in distinction from every appearance and modification of affection which is not true or pure love, may be defined to be a desire for the good or happiness of everything which exists. And, in accordance with this view, everything which has a being, from the highest to the lowest, whatever its position, whatever its character, the whole infinity of percipient and sentient existence, simply because it has such an existence, is the appropriate object of pure love.

This is a great truth, and one which, it must be admitted, is difficult to be realized by those who have not an instinct of perception and of affirmation in their own purified hearts. Those who are the subjects of this exalted feeling sincerely desire the happiness of all those, whoever or whatever they may be, who are capable of enjoying happiness while, at the same time, it may be so, that they disapprove and perhaps even hate their character; and, accordingly, they love the evil as well as the good, sinners as well as saints.

We  have a striking illustration of the nature of pure love in the case of the Savior. He loved sinners. "He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance." It was not for angels, but for erring men, that he  died. He bowed his head upon the cross for those that persecuted him, reviled him, slew him. He loved men, not because they were good, for such they were not, and certainly not because they were evil, because evil can never be the foundation of love, but because they were existences, — percipient and moral existences. He  saw them created with the elements of an eternal being, but destitute, in their fallen state, of those attributes which would make that being a happy one. He saw them destitute of truth which they might possess, of holiness to which they were strangers, the enemies of God when they might be his friends, the heirs of hell when they might be the heirs of heaven. He loved them, therefore, not because they were good, but because they had a sentient, and especially because they had a moral, existence. It was their existence and not their merit; it was what they were capable of being, and not what they were, which brought him down from heaven.

—edited and adapted from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 4, Chapter 1.

The Cost of Holiness

The value of a thing is known by what it takes to preserve it, as well as by what it originally cost. Men may steal your diamonds, who would not trouble things of less worth. The cost of holiness was the blood of the Son of God; and greatly does he mistake, who supposes that it can be preserved by any thing short of ETERNAL VIGILANCE.

— Religious Maxims XXXI.

Death to Self

Look not for a, true living strength,
In the life of the ME and the I,
With nothing to love but its self-hood,
And fearing to suffer and die.
As thou seekest the fruit
From the seed-planted grain,
Seek life that is living,
From life that is slain.

Then hasten to give it its death-blow,
By nailing the I to the Cross;
And thou shalt find infinite treasure,
In what seemeth nothing but loss;
For where, if the seed
Is not laid in the ground,
Shall the germ of the new
Resurrection be found.

The soul is the Lord's little garden,
The I is the seed that is there;
And He watches it, While it is dying,
And hath joy in the fruits it doth bear.
In the seed that is buried,
Is hidden the power
Of the life-birth immortal,
Of fruit and of flower.

'Tis hidden, and yet it is true;
'Tis  mystic, and yet it is plain;
A lesson, which none ever knew,
But souls that are inwardly slain;
That God, from thy death,
By His Spirit shall call
The life ever-living,
The life, ALL IN ALL.

— Christ in the Soul (1872)