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.

Crucified to Internal Joys

Another and remarkable characteristic of this state of mind [often called interior annihilation] is this. He, who is the subject of it, is dead and crucified to all internal joys also, as well as to all pleasures and joys of an external kind. He has no sympathy with those, who are always crying, "Make me happy." "Pay me well, and I will be holy." Personal happiness, as a supreme or even a separate object of desire, never enters his thought. It makes no difference what the form of that happiness is, whether pleasures of the senses or pleasures of the mind. He is willing to abandon and sacrifice even the pure and sublime pleasure, almost the only consolation left to him in this sad world, which flows from communion with those, who, like himself, are sanctified to God. His true happiness consists in hanging upon the Cross, and in being crucified to self. Whether he is tempted or not tempted, interiorly and in the bottom of his heart he can say, all is well. Whether he suffers or does not suffer, the throne of peace is erected in the centre of his soul. Wretchedness and joy are alike. He welcomes sorrow, even the deepest sorrow of the heart, with as warm a gush of gratitude as he welcomes happiness, IF THE WILL OF GOD IS ACCOMPLISHED.  In that will his soul is lost, as in a bottomless ocean.

"Lord, I will not follow Thee," says a devout person, "by the way of consolations and self-pleasures, but only by LOVE. I desire Thee only, and nothing out of Thee for myself. If I ever mention any thing as appertaining to me, if I name myself, I mean Thee only; for Thou only art me and mine. My whole essence is in Thee. I desire nothing, which comes from Thee, but Thee  thyself. I had rather suffer forever the cruel torments of Hell, than enjoy eternal happiness without Thee. If I knew I should be annihilated, yet would I serve Thee with the same zeal; for it is not for my sake, but thine, that I serve Thee. Oh, how great is my joy, that Thou art sovereignly good and perfect." [Cardinal Bona, as quoted in Fenelon's Pastoral Letter on the Love of God. See also, for similar sentiments, Bona's Principes de la Vie Chretienne, Ch. 47.]

In connection with what has been said, it will not be surprising when we say further, that the person, to whom these statements will apply, makes but little account of raptures, visions, ecstasies, special illuminations, sudden and remarkable impressions, or any thing of the kind, except so far as they tend, which, alas, is frequently not the case, to extinguish self, and to lead the soul into the abyss of the Supreme Divinity.

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

Freedom from Self-Reflective Acts

It is a further characteristic of the mental state, [often called interior annihilation], that a person in this state of mind has no disposition to exercise self-reflecting acts, originating either in undue self-love or in a want of faith. 

What I mean to say is, that, when he has done his duty, he no longer turns back upon himself and asks, as the half-way Christian often does, What does the world think of me? Divested of all selfish purposes and aims, and having no will of his own, he acts deliberately and supremely for God; and therefore he feels that whatever is done, so far as motives and intentions are concerned, is well done. In that respect no trouble enters his mind. There is no need of retrospection; no need of apologies to cavillers. Indeed, he can scarcely be said to exercise retrospective acts and rejections upon himself in any sense whatever. Such acts seem to be, to some extent, inconsistent with the fact, that his heart is fixed exclusively upon an object out of himself.  What is done stands written in the record of his Divine Master; and there he leaves it. His whole soul is given to the present moment. The present moment is given to God.

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

Extinction of the Power of Evil Habits

The state of interior nothingness is characterized, further, by the extinction of the power of antecedent evil habits. A person may be sanctified to God, his heart may be pure in the divine sight, and still there may be a constant struggle on the part of the "old man" or the "old nature," to regain possession. It is difficult to explain this, viz. that a truly holy heart may still have a struggle antagonistical to sin, and oftentimes a fearful struggle; but it is probably owing, in addition to the direct temptations of Satan, to the tremendous power of antecedent evil habits. The principle of self-love for instance, may by divine grace be redeemed from its selfish attitude, and may be brought to its true subjective position and become a holy principle; and yet in consequence of its previous habits of inordinate exercise, there may be a strong tendency, which requires constant resistance, to resume its former position of irregularity and sin. This tendency is not, properly speaking, in the principle itself; but is forced upon it exteriorly, if we may so express it, by the law of habit; and therefore although it is extremely dangerous, it does not appear to be necessarily sinful. The idea may here perhaps be illustrated in the case of the reformed inebriate. He has refrained from drinking; but the influence of the antecedent law of habit is still felt in his system. He is no longer guilty of the sin of drinking; but his liability to fall into this sin is greatly increased by his antecedent evil habit. There is, undoubtedly, something mysterious in this: but it seems, nevertheless, to be true. He feels that, in consequence of his former evil habits, the enemy is near at hand and in great power; that his danger is thereby increased, and that he must always be in the attitude of watchfulness and of resistance. Something like this is the case with those, who have just entered into that state where they can say, they "love the Lord with all their heart." The enemy is cast out; but he avails himself of the influence of the law of habit, to take a hostile attitude and to seek a re-entrance.

Now when a person has experienced the state of interior nothingness, as it is conveniently, perhaps, and yet not accurately termed, he has by divine grace, not only succeeded in conquering sin in the gigantic forms of creature-love and of self-will, but in breaking down the perplexing influence and the unfavorable tendency of former habits. And hence there is a vast accession to his power, and to his tendency to union with God, Satan himself, in the presentation of his temptations, has comparatively but little influence over such a soul. He has, comparatively speaking, no basis to operate upon, no way of secret, circuitous, and indirect attack; but must come boldly up and make his attack, face to face, as he did in his temptation of the blessed Savior. And this he would rather not do, if he can approach the object of his attack in some other way.

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