The life of those who dwell in the secret place of the Most High may be called a Hidden Life, because the animating principle, the vital or operative element, is not so much in itself as in another. It is a life grafted into another life. It is the life of the soul, incorporated into the life of Christ; and in such a way, that, while it has a distinct vitality, it has so very much in the sense, in which the branch of a tree may be said to have a distinct vitality from the root.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

Recalling Sensual Pleasures

We are at liberty to take to ourselves the pleasure which naturally results from the use or gratification of the senses, such as eating and drinking, when such use or gratification occurs in the providence of God and with the  divine permission; but if in our thoughts we unnecessarily anticipate such pleasures, or, when they are past, recall them to recollection in a sensual manner, it is a melancholy evidence that God is  not the full and satisfying portion of our souls, and that our heart is not wholly right with him.

Religious Maxims (1846) XCI.

Friday, October 31, 2014

Worldly Concerns

It is a sure sign that our heart is not perfect before God, and does not entirely rest in him, when, like the unconverted Athenians of old, we are anxious to hear or tell some new thing, when we are exceedingly troubled about our own reputation among men, and when in regard to anything of a worldly nature, we exhibit an eager and precipitate state of mind

Religious Maxims (1846) XC.

Thursday, October 30, 2014

Sorrow the Nurse of Love

Oh God, Thou heard'st my early vow,
('Twas sacred then, 'tis sacred now,)
The vow which promised to fulfill,
With Thee to aid me, all thy will.

Resigning all the soul held dear,
It pledged Thee, with a heart sincere,
Never, Oh never, to incline
To plan or choice, which was not thine.

And Thou hast put me to the test
In times and ways Thou thoughtest best;
But He, who smote me, gave the power
To conquer in the trying hour.

When sickness Thou didst on me send,
When Thou didst take each dearest friend;
I found, in spoiling earthly bliss,
Thou madest thyself my happiness.

My earthly loss, my earthly pain,
Was changed to joy and heavenly gain;
And Thou didst grieve me but to prove,
That sorrow is the nurse of love.

American Cottage Life (1850).

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Resource in Temptation

My Savior! Wilt thou leave me now,
When sharp temptations round me throng?
All other helps have failed — and thou
Alone canst hope and truth prolong.

TEMPTED; — but can I turn away,
And give my thoughts to aught but thee?
Oh, let me die; but ne'er betray
My pledge of truth and constancy.

I know that sorrow has its power,
I know that pleasure has its charm;
But oft the least propitious hour
Beholds the triumph of thine arm.

Oh, who or what shall lead to sin,
Whate'er its power, whate'er its art —
So long as Christ is King within,
And binds his being round my heart?

American Cottage Life (1850).

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

The Death and Resurrection of the Human Will

Properly speaking, or perhaps we should rather say, in this case, psychologically speaking, man's will can never die. A will is essential to man's nature, as it is to the nature of every moral being. Man, without a will, ceases to be man.

When, therefore, in examining the topics connected with religious experience, we speak of the death of the human will, we mean the human will considered in its action and its tendency to action, out of the divine order. It is the human will divergent, —  resting in the origin of its movement on the limited and depraved basis of personal interest,  and out of harmony with the will of God.

In the sense which has just been given, the human will, before it can have a higher and divine life, not only may die, but must die. Its death is not only possible but necessary. In its present life, if we may so express it, it has its principle of movement in motives which God cannot respect and approve; but, on the contrary, he disapproves and condemns them as inconsistent with the highest good of the universe. From such a will he is necessarily excluded.

Monday, October 27, 2014

How Do We Come to Love God?

How can we obtain the basis of love which unites our will with God's will? How can we be made to possess that which we are not possessed of, by being made to love that which we do not love?  Especially as love, in that higher sense of the term which has been explained, is not human, but divine; not a thing created, but eternal.

The answer is, that God, in being a benevolent existence, necessarily loves to dispense his own nature, to enter into all hearts where there is a possibility of entrance, to pour out everywhere the radiance of his own brightness. What we have to do, then, is first to be emptied, in order that we may be filled; first to cease from self, that we may be recipients of that which is not self.

But how can we do this? Or how can we learn to do it? Daily, O man, is the Providence of God teaching thee, by perplexing human wisdom, by disappointing human efforts, and by showing, in a thousand ways, the blindness, the weakness, and the iniquity of selfishness. It is for this that thou art smitten. Sorrow is thy teacher. It is a hard lesson to learn, but still a necessary one, that a life out of the divine life is not life, but that the true life is from God. Our heavenly Father, in the infinite fulness of his nature, will pour out upon us the principle of holy love, as soon as we are ready to relinquish the opposing principle of self.

— edited from A Treatise on Divine Union (1851) Part 5, Chapter 4.


Saturday, October 25, 2014

Moral Union and Affectional Union

There are two forms of union of the will; — namely, moral union, and affectional union. It is the combination of the two, uniting the outward act, or the thing done, with the motive of doing it, which constitutes perfect or holy union.

Moral union of the will exists when the will is united with God by means of moral enforcement merely, that is to say, under the constraints of moral obligation, without the consenting and affectionate concurrence of the heart. Such an union, which can exist only in respect to outward acts, makes what the world calls a moral man, but not a religious one. When a man does what God commands,— in other words. does what is right in action,  but does it in opposition to his own selfish desires, — he is in union with God, if we may so express it, morally, or in the outward manner, but not  affectionally, or in the inward disposition. He is a man divided; partly for God, and partly against him.  His conscience is right, but his heart is wrong. In the language of the apostle Paul, he does that which he hates to do: he does good, but "evil is present with him."