This leads us to a serious and deeply meaningful question: When can our love truly be called perfect? That is the question this chapter seeks to answer.
Before doing so, a few necessary foundations must be laid.
This leads us to a serious and deeply meaningful question: When can our love truly be called perfect? That is the question this chapter seeks to answer.
Before doing so, a few necessary foundations must be laid.
Reflections on The union between the soul and God may exist in various respects. There may be a union of the human and the divine perceptions. There may be a union of the desires and affections to some extent and in various particulars. But the most perfect union, that which includes whatever is most important in the others, is the union of the human and the divine will. A union of the affections, independently of that of the will, if we can suppose such a thing, must necessarily be imperfect. When the will, which sustains a preeminent and controlling relation, is in the state of entire union with God, it necessarily brings the whole soul into subjection; it implies necessarily the extinction of any selfish action, and brings the mind into harmony with itself, and into harmony with everything else. From that moment, our powers cease to act from any private or selfish regards. They are annihilated to self, and act only in reference to God. Nor do they act in reference to God in their own way and from their own impulse; but move as they are moved upon, being gradually detached from every motion of their own.
In such a soul the principle of faith is very strong; so much so as to require nothing of the nature of visions and revelations to sustain it, and to be equally independent of that false support which is derived from human reasonings. That faith which annihilates all our powers, or rather the action of all our powers, in regard to self, making the principle of holy love predominant, and bringing the human will into subjection to the divine, is a light in the soul, which is necessarily inconsistent with, and which extinguishes every other light. That is to say, if we go by any other light, the light of mere human reason, the guidance of inward visions and voices, or of strong emotions, which may be called the lights of sense, or by any other light whatever, distinct and separate from that of faith, of course we do not go by the light of faith. In the presence of the light of faith, every other light necessarily grows dim and passes away; as the light of the moon and stars gradually passes away, and is extinguished in the broader and purer illumination of the rising sun. This light now arose in my heart. Believing with this faith, the fountains of the heart were opened, and I loved God with a strength of love corresponding to the strength of faith. Love existed in the soul; and throwing its influence around every other principle of action, constituted, as it were, the soul's dwelling place. God was there. According to the words of St. John, ‘He, that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God. God is love.’
I have given God my undivided heart; believing that he does accept of it, and believing that the blood of Christ cleanseth us from all sin. Like a stone which the builder takes, and puts on the foundation, so do I lie on Christ’s blood and God’s promises; giving God my soul and body a living sacrifice, and covenanting with him never to doubt more. My language is, I will believe. I will sooner die than doubt.
And we may add, it is very proper, and it seems to us indispensable on the part of those, who wish to live the life of faith, that they should not only watch against unbelief, but that they should resolve against unbelief
One of the most general laws of our mental nature, is the law of habit.
The law of HABIT, in its application to the principles of the mind, may be expressed by saying, that it is the facility and strength of action, resulting from frequent exercise or repetition. The perceptive powers, the memory, the power of reasoning, the affections, all invigorate themselves under the influence of this mighty law. The same can be said of faith. Faith unexercised, becomes weak; faith, in frequent exercise, becomes strong. He, who believes frequently, will believe energetically; while he, who puts forth the act of belief only at distant intervals, will find the impotency of his faith corresponding to the infrequency of its exercise.