Human Moral Freedom

But what is to be said of human freedom and human responsibility?

If our dependence upon God is to be so strict, and our self-renunciation is to be so entire, is there good reason for regarding man as a being, either possessed of the elements, or responsible for the fact of moral accountability?

The simple truth is, that God never has violated; he never will violate; and while he remains what he is, he never can violate the moral freedom of his creatures. He gave them moral freedom; and the gift itself is the pledge of its protection. This freedom he is bound by the very elements of his nature to respect sacredly and to respect always. Being what he is, he is not so weak in principle as to violate his own implied promise; nor, considered as the superior, and man as the dependent, is he so poor in character as to be satisfied with a homage, which is not voluntarily rendered.

To be saved from sin and to be brought into moral harmony with the Divine Mind, without a recognition of moral freedom, would in our apprehension, be in the nature of a contradiction in terms; and would, in reality, be neither salvation to men nor honor to God. It is, therefore, left to men, and left to all moral beings throughout the universe, to decide, (and it is a question which is always and necessarily decided one way or the other,) whether they will be saved by the divine operation alone, or will attempt to save themselves by their own efforts. If they consent to be thus saved, in other words if they give themselves up to God to be saved in his own way and manner, then they live by the presence and the agency of the divine operation; or in the expression of the Scriptures by the indwelling of the Holy Ghost; but if they do not consent, they live, as Satan and all other rebellious spirits do, by the operation of unavailing and destructive efforts generated out of self. But where consent is given, so that the divine operation may be in harmony with the mental laws, moral freedom is unimpaired.

And this is especially true, when it is considered, that the act of consent is not the same thing as a cessation or annihilation of action; it is not a mere absence or negation of mental movement; but is a real or positive act on the part of the creature; one which may be specifically described as an act of harmonious concurrence and cooperation, with the divine act. And what is worthy of notice, and is especially important here, this consentient and concurrent act is repeated in all time to come; existing always in immediate consecution with the divine influence, moment by moment. It is in this position of the two minds, the Divine Mind, and created minds, (a position which reconciles the two otherwise antagonistical ideas of God’s gift and man’s free reception,) that grace is communicated. The idea of grace imparted or infused in any other manner, the idea of grace enforced, the idea of saving men against their own consent, involves an absurdity. Salvation is nothing else, and can be nothing else, than harmony with God. But harmony without consent would be an adjustment of conceptions not more free from absurdity, than that of love without affection.

— edited from The Life of Faith Part 1, Chapter 9.

Common Mental Elements Of Justification and Sanctification

The states of justification and sanctification agree with each other not only in being sustained by faith, but by being characterized by the same mental elements in other respects. If, for instance, it is true, as it undoubtedly is, that, in experiencing the state of justification, we are brought to feel, that we cannot obtain forgiveness without self-renunciation, it is equally true, that in sanctification we must have the same feeling in reference to every thing that is necessary for us; in other words, we must feel, that we cannot seek any thing and cannot obtain any thing from God, so long as we cherish the secret expectation of aid from some other source; and that reliance upon God necessarily implies the renouncement of ourselves.

Another mental element, which is involved in sanctification, as well as in justification, is a willingness to receive. We may suppose a person, although perhaps it is not likely to be the case, willing to renounce himself and his own efforts as a ground of hope; and still not willing to receive all from God. It is impossible, that such a soul should exercise that faith, which results in forgiveness and reconciliation. It is necessary that he should not only renounce himself as a ground of hope, but every thing else besides God and out of God; and be willing to be saved, both from the guilt of the past and from present sin, by God’s grace and in God’s way. To renounce ourselves, therefore, in every thing, our merit, our wisdom, our strength, and whatever else we had called and valued as our own, to renounce all other created and subordinate grounds of hope, and humbly, and willingly to receive every thing, our salvation, our Christian graces, our temporal and spiritual guidance, and whatever else may be necessary for us, from God alone in the exercise of simple faith; it is this, as it seems to us, and nothing different from this, and nothing short of this, which constitutes, both in its commencement and progress, the life of the children of God.

— edited from The Life of Faith Part 1, Chapter 9.

Justification and Sanctification — Both by Faith!

Justification and sanctification, although they have some things in common, are, nevertheless, to be regarded, as different from each other. Justification, while it does not exclude the present, has special reference to the past. Sanctification, on the contrary, taking up the work, which justification has begun, has a more distinct reference to the present and the future. And accordingly, the one may be supposed to inquire, how the sins, which have been committed in times past, shall be forgiven; while it is the office of the other to inquire, how we shall be kept from sin at the present moment and in time to come. Or, stating the distinction between them in a little different manner, we may perhaps say, that justification removes the condemnatory power or guilt of sin, while sanctification removes the power of sin itself. The one pardons; the other purifies. The one takes away guilt; the other takes away transgression. The one commences the union with God by forgiveness; the other continues it by securing conformity to the divine will. The one is incipient, and terminates in a particular result; the other may be said to be progressive without end.

There can be no doubt, therefore, that justification and sanctification differ from each other. At the same time, it seems to be equally true that in some respects they are closely allied, and sustain a near resemblance. And in particular, they both come into existence, and are both sustained, in connection with the same mighty principle, viz.: by faith. The doctrine of justification by faith may be regarded as a doctrine generally conceded and settled. And when the subject has been fully examined, we cannot well doubt, that the doctrine of sanctification in the same manner, viz.  by faith, will be conceded and established with equal weight of evidence, and with equal unanimity of opinion. We begin to live by faith; and we continue to live in the same methods, which made the beginning. We received forgiveness in the first instance by faith; and in the reception of any and every spiritual favor, which may be necessary in our further progress, and which may properly be included under the general grace of sanctification, we need the same faith.

“Christ has truly loved me,” says Hermann Francke, “and washed me in his blood, so that my salvation is rendered sure, through grace. My beginning, progress, and ending, is by FAITH in Jesus Christ. When I feel my utter inability, and acknowledge that I can do nothing of myself, and cast myself upon his mercy alone, I feel a new power of communication to my soul. I do not seek to be justified in one way, and sanctified in another.” [Memoirs of Augustus Hermann Francke, Chap. 2d.]

— edited from The Life of Faith Part 1, Chapter 9.

Young Madam Guyon's Trials

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

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Her statement of some of her trials continues:

The place, which was assigned for my residence in my husband's house, was the room which properly belonged to my step-mother. I had no place into which I could retire as my own; and if it had been otherwise, I could not have remained alone in it for any length of time without offense. Kept thus continually in her presence, she took the opportunity to cast unkind reflections upon me before many persons who came to see us. And to complete my affliction, the person who was chosen to act as nurse to my husband in his sicknesses, and who at other times was expected to perform the offices of waiting-maid to myself, entered into all the plans of those who persecuted me. She kept me in sight like a governess, and treated me in a very singular manner, considering the relations actually existing between us. For the most part I bore with patience these evils, which I had no way to avoid; but sometimes I let some hasty answer escape me, which was to me a source of grievous crosses and violent reproaches for a long time together. And when I was permitted to go out of doors, my absence added but little to my liberty. The footman had orders to give an account of everything I did. And what contributed to aggravate my afflictions, was the remembrance of my former situation, and of what I might have enjoyed under other circumstances. I could not easily forget the persons who had sought my affections, dwelling, by a contrasted operation of mind, on their agreeable manners, on the love they had for me, and on the dispositions they manifested,— so different from what I now had before me. All this made my present situation very gloomy, and my burthen intolerable."

It was then I began to eat the bread of sorrow, and mingle my drink with tears. But my tears, which I could not forbear shedding, only furnished new occasion for attack and reproach. In regard to my husband, I ought perhaps to say, that it was not from any natural cruelty that he treated me as he did. He seems to have had a real affection for me, but being naturally hasty in his temper, his mother found the art of continually irritating him against me. Certain it is, that when I was sick, he was very much afflicted. Had it not been for the influence of his mother and of the waiting maid whom I have mentioned, we might have lived happily together.

As it was, my condition was every way deplorable. My step-mother secured her object. My proud spirit broke under her system of coercion. Married to a person of rank and wealth, I found myself a slave in my own dwelling, rather than a free person. The treatment which I received so impaired the vivacity of my nature, that I became dumb, like 'the lamb that is shearing.' The expression of thought and feeling which was natural to me, faded from my countenance. Terror took possession of my mind. I lost all power of resistance. Under the rod of my despotic mistress, I sat dumb and almost idiotic. Those who had heard of me, but had never seen me before, said one to another, ‘Is this the person who sits thus silent like a piece of statuary, that was famed for such an abundance of wit?’ In this situation, I looked in various directions for help; but I found no one with whom I could communicate my unhappiness; no one who might share my grief, and help me to bear it. To have made known my feelings and trials to my parents, would only have occasioned new crosses. I was alone and helpless in my grief.

— from The Life of Madam Guyon Volume 1, Chapter 5.

Young Madam Guyon and Her Step-Mother

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

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Her statement of some of her trials, I shall endeavor to give in a very abridged form, adjusting anew in some cases the arrangement of the facts where the narrative is confused, and giving the statement with more regard to the precise sentiment or idea, which she obviously means to convey, than to the specific form of expression.

The great fault of my step-mother, who was not without sense and merit, was, that she possessed an ungovernable self-will. This trait was extraordinary in her; it had never been surmounted in her youth, and had become so much a fixed, inflexible trait of her character, that she could scarcely live with anybody. Add to this, that from the beginning she had conceived a strong aversion to me, so much so, that she compelled me to do the most humiliating things. I was made the constant victim of her humors. Her great occupation was to thwart me continually; and she had the. art and the cruelty to inspire my husband with the like unfavorable sentiments.

For instance, in situations where it was proper to have some regard to rank or station in life, they would make persons who were far below me in that respect, take precedence over me,— a thing which was often very trying to my feelings, — and especially so on account of my mother, who was very tenacious of what was due to honorable station in life, and who, when she heard of it from other persons, (for I was careful not to say anything about it myself,) rebuked me for want of spirit in not being able to maintain my rank. Another source of unhappiness was the disposition, on the part of my husband's family, [which resided a short distance out of the city of Paris,] to prevent my visiting my father' s family, [which still continued to reside within the city limits.] My parents, whom I tenderly loved, complained that I came to see them so seldom,— little knowing the obstacles I had to encounter. I never went to see them, without having some bitter speeches to bear at my return. My step-mother, knowing how tenderly I felt on that point, found means to upbraid me in regard to my family, and spoke to me incessantly to the disadvantage of my father and mother.

— from The Life of Madame Guyon Volume 1, Chapter 5.

Endeavor to Behold the Hand of God

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

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Viewed in the light of subsequent events, she saw that everything had been ordered in mercy. Addressing the person at whose suggestion and under whose direction she wrote her Life, she says, in relation to the trials and persecutions she endured,

I should have some difficulty in writing these things to you, which cannot be done without apparently giving offense to charity, if you had not required me to give a full account, without omitting anything. But there is one thing which I feel it a duty to request. And that is, that in these things, which thus took place, we must endeavor to behold the hand of God, and not look at them merely on the side of the creature. I would not give any undue or exaggerated idea of the defects of those persons by whom God had permitted me to be afflicted. My mother-in-law was not destitute of moral principles; my husband appeared to have some religious sentiments, and certainly was not addicted to open vices. It is necessary to look at everything on the side of God, who permitted these things only because they were connected with my salvation, and because he would not have me perish. Such was the strength of my natural pride, that nothing but some dispensation of sorrow would have broken down my spirit, and turned me to God.

 And again she says, near the conclusion of the same chapter in her Life,

Thou hast ordered these things, oh my God, for my salvation! In goodness thou hast afflicted me. Enlightened by the result, I have since clearly seen, that these dealings of thy providence were necessary, in order to make me die to my vain and haughty nature. I had not power in myself to extirpate the evils within me. It was thy providence that subdued them.

— from The Life of Madame Guyon Volume 1, Chapter 5.

God Works by Grace and by Position

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

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But there she was, and she felt and knew that her earthly hopes were blasted. But she did not then perceive what she afterwards knew, that God placed her there in his providence, as he made Joseph a slave in Egypt, "for her good." God had formed her for himself. He loved her too much to permit her to remain long in harmony with a world, which, in its vanity and its corruption, He could not love. He knew what was requisite in order to accomplish his own work; He knew under what providences the natural life would retain its ascendency, and the soul would be lost; and under what providences grace would be rendered effectual, and the soul would be saved.

I have sometimes thought that God, who always respects man's moral freedom, carries on and completes the great work of his salvation, not only by grace, but by position. I use the word position here as nearly synonymous with external providences; and in laying down this proposition, I mean to say, it seems to me, although I would not speak with much confidence, to be a law of the divine action. Such are the relations between mind and place, that no man ever is what he is, independently of his situation. The mind has no power of acting in entire separation from the relations it sustains; it knows nothing where there are no objects to be known; loves nothing where there are no objects to be loved; does nothing where there is nothing to be done. Its powers of perception, its capabilities of affectionate or malevolent feeling, its resources of "volitional" or voluntary determination, develop their strength and their moral character in connection with the occasions which call them forth. Let any man read the Life of St. Augustine, particularly in connection with what he has himself said in his Confessions, or the Life of Francis Xavier, of Archbishop Leighton, of George Fox, of Baxter, of Wesley, of Brainerd, of Henry Martyn, — and then say, if different circumstances, (a situation, for instance, comparatively exempt from temptation and toil,) would have developed the same men, the same strength of purpose, the same faith in God, the same purity of life. This illustrates what we mean when we say that in the religious life we are the creatures, not only of grace, but of position, or more strictly and truly, of grace acting by position. If this doctrine be true, it throws light and beauty over the broad field of God's providences, and shows us why many have passed to glory through great tribulation. Tribulation was necessary to bring them, if not to the true life of God in the first instance, to that fulness and brightness of the inward life which they have experienced. So that those, who grow in grace by suffering, may do well to remember, that probably nothing but the seasons of trial which they have been called to pass through, would have fitted them for the reception and effectual action of that grace which is their consolation and their hope.

This was the view which Madame Guyon herself subsequently took of the subject.

— from The Life of Madame Guyon Volume 1, Chapter 5.