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.

The Joys of the Good

Let men of worldly power and arts
The future love, the present hate;
It is the gift of holy hearts
The bliss of heaven to ante-date.

While sighing worldlings oft exclaim,
The hours are passing swift away;
To those of heavenly heart and name
They circle round, but love to stay.

Our heart's emotions are as flowers,
When cloth'd with pearls of morning dew;
With these we crown the passing hours,
With chaplets bright and ever new.

Not night more surely comes to day,
And day succeeds to starry night,
Than joys unnumber'd find their way
To bosoms bath'd in heavenly light.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXVII.

The Conqueror

Wouldst thou the power possess
All evil things to slay,
And, with the arm of victory,
O'er life and death bear sway?

Wouldst thou go forth with strength,
And with a force to tread
Upon the lion's fearful path,
And crush the serpent's head?

Then gird thyself with LOVE;
Put that bright armor on;
And know thine enemies shall fail;
Thy victory is won.

Like snow-flakes on the sea,
That perish as they fall,
They fade beneath LOVE'S mighty power,
The CONQUEROR of all.

— Christ in the Soul (1872) LXVI.

Sennacherib

"Then the angel of the Lord went forth, and smote in the camp of the Assyrians an hundred and four-score and five thousand; and when they arose early in the morning, behold, they were all dead corpses: So Sennacherib, king of Assyria, departed." — Isa. xxxvii. 36, 37.

The trumpet pealed its joyful cry,

The coal-black war-horse neighed;

The glittering banner floated high,

With heart of steel and threatening eye,

Each warrior drew his blade.

The setting sun at close of day,

O'er Carmel's mount of dew,

Bathed with its light the proud array

Of champing steeds and plumage gay,

And flags, that glittering flew.

But lo! The morn returns from far,

And snowy plume and sword,

The haughty chief, the steed of war,

The lifted trump, the smoking car,

Have fall'n before the Lord.

God's angel, like the desert's blast,

Came flying down the sky;

He hurled his vengeance as he past,

And every warrior breathed his last,

And closed was every eye.

Oh Lord, with Thee is endless might,

To Thee be endless praise;

For thou canst curb the crimson fight,

The warrior's plume of glory blight,

And quench his armor's blaze.

— The Religious Offering (1835).

Evening Reflections

Hushed was the tumult of the day,

The evening's wonted breeze was still,

The placid moon, with silver ray,

Chequered the groves of vale and hill,

And not a cloud o'er all the sky,

Was witnessed by my wandering eye.

The light was out in each lone cot,

The farmer slept at nature's call,

And sound or action reached me not,

Save but the cricket in the wall.

The beast was on his lair; his breast

The bird had pillowed on his nest.

Then thought my soul of each dear scene,

Where childhood sported gay and boon;

The gambols on the village green,

Beneath the pale and watchful moon,

When friends and nature had a charm

The sting of sorrow to disarm.

Nor did my soul find resting here;

But prompted by this hour of bliss,

She soared above this earthly sphere,

And found a scene more calm than this;

A heaven, where there is endless joy,

No cares invade, no griefs annoy.

— The Religious Offering (1835).

Without Resistance in the Hands of God

The soul, that has reached the center of its Nothing, (that is, is absolutely and forever nothing relatively to self,)  remains without resistance in the hands of God, like clay in the hands of the potter. It has become perfectly pliable and impressible to the divine touch. Such a soul is peculiarly the subject of that ennobling form of prayer, which is called in certain writers the Receptive or Passive Prayer; that is to say, a prayer which is inspired rather than self-originated, which is given, rather than self-produced. Entirely divested of those habits of self-activity, which are so common, and which, in consequence of preceding or of perplexing the operations of the Holy Spirit, are so injurious, the soul remains quiet and childlike in the divine presence. Like the placid lake, that receives and reflects to the eye of the beholder the image of trees and flowers on its banks, returning image for image, without a stem disarranged, or a petal broken; so in all the hidden aspirations which it constantly sends forth, it passively and almost unconsciously receives and reflects the image of God; an image, which is not distorted by the mixture of self-originated acts, nor marred by the disturbing power of internal agitation. God loves to leave the impress of his blessed image on the self-annihilated soul. And the prayer which it breathes, as it is not self-moved, but moves as it is moved upon, may truly be regarded as the praying breath of the Holy Spirit, who always dwells in the soul that knows itself no more.

We may see, therefore, how strong must be the position of the Divine Mind, (the DEUS AGENS INTER, as it has been expressed in the Latin,) in the self-annihilated soul. A soul, in the language of Michael de Molinos, "desiring as if it did not desire; willing as if it did not will; understanding as if it did not understand; thinking as if it did not think, without inclining to any thing; [that is, independently of the will of God;] embracing equally contempts and honors, benefits and corrections. Oh, what a happy soul is this, which is thus dead and annihilated. It lives no longer in itself, because God lives in it. And now it may most truly be said of it, that it is a renewed Phœnix, because it is changed, spiritualized, and. transformed into the divine image."

And again, he says,

We seek ourselves every time we get out of our Nothing; and, therefore, we never get to quiet and perfect contemplation. Creep in, as far as ever thou canst, into the truth of thy Nothing; and then nothing will disquiet thee; nay, thou wilt be humble and ashamed, losing openly thy own reputation and esteem.

Oh, what a strong bulwark wilt thou find of that Nothing! Who can ever afflict thee, if thou dost once retire into that fortress! Because the soul, which is despised by itself, and in its own knowledge is nothing, is not capable of receiving grievance or injury from any body. The soul, which keeps within its Nothingness, is internally silent, lives resigned in any torment whatsoever, by thinking it less than it doth deserve; is free from abundance of imperfections, and becomes commander of great virtues. While the soul keeps still and quiet in its Nothingness,  THE LORD DRAWS HIS OWN  IMAGE AND LIKENESS  IN  IT, WITHOUT ANY THING TO HINDER IT.

— edited from The Interior or Hidden Life (2nd edition, 1844) Part 3, Chapter 12.

EDITOR'S NOTE: Those who might be interested in further exploration of the teachings of Miguel de Molinos will find information and an online copy of the Spiritual Guide at the Christian Classics Ethereal Library here: Miguel de Molinos.