On Mysticism: Letter 1

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Letter I.
Dear Brother, I read your “Life of Mdme. de Krüdener” during my journey, and I can say it did me good. Occupation and incessant work, unless one keeps very near to the Lord, tend to allow the closest affections to grow rusty; and if they are for the greater part absorbed by the details of the work, these details tend to narrow the heart. If one keeps near to the Lord, it cannot be so. On the contrary, in that case the details stir up the best affections and raise them up, and one thus gets renewed strength in Him.
Such was the life of the Lord Jesus, because His life, in its details, flowed from His being in perfect communion with His Father, and He lived by His Father. The life of Jesus was but the perfect manifestation in man of the life of the Father. It was the produce of a heart filled with perfect love, the expression of infinite love.
The life of Mdme. de Krüdener, which was passed outside the narrowness of secondary questions, recalled to me that love. There certainly was in her a heart which spiritually loved the Lord; and the things which must be condemned in her walk are judged on my part without effort, so that I have not to dwell thereon. He who is constantly a working bee in the hive is free to gather the honey only when he lights upon the flowers of the field, whichsoever they may be. However, I wish to say a word on that which strikes me in mysticism, such as we find it in Mdme. de Krüdener and in other Christians of that day.
Desire and love are two very distinct things. Desire supposes the capacity of enjoying the thing which one desires, namely, the spiritual affections which, as to the root of their nature, have God for their object. It implies in the case of Mdme. de Krüdener that one is born of God, although Satan misstates this feeling, and often does so in a wonderful way; but this is also the proof that one does not possess the thing which one desires.
Love, on the contrary, is in full possession of the object of the desire. It is no longer a want, but the enjoyment, the appreciation of the object itself, which is our delight.
Now mysticism, while it greatly exalts its feelings, yet never goes beyond desire; whereas simple Christianity, at the same time that it gives the knowledge of salvation, puts us in full possession of the love of God. I know that God loves me, even as He loves Christ. That love has saved me. It is He who desired me. His love had need of me, and that love has shone forth in Christ in all its perfection. I contemplate that love in peace; I adore it in Christ. I abide in Him and He in me.
I never met with a mystic whose idea of love was not erroneous, altogether erroneous in its very nature.
It was always something of man which craved satisfaction, instead of being something in God which satisfies the heart perfectly, deeply, infinitely. Hence those extraordinary efforts to abase and blacken oneself, and that habit of speaking ill of oneself, as if a saved soul could be something before a Savior, instead of being overpowered and forgetting oneself in presence of such great love, and of enjoying it. Is it when we are truly transported in the presence of God, and when we contemplate His glorious beauty in His temple, that we can be occupied with the hideous images which hide themselves in the heart of man? I think not. We think of Him. He has given us the right to do so by that grace which has really abolished and destroyed all that we were, when we were living out of Christ, when we were in the flesh.
You will perhaps tell me, The experience one acquires of oneself is none the less humiliating. I do not deny it. Yes, there are moments when the Lord reveals to us the fearful secrets of that heart where no good dwells; but one does not boast of it, and one does not speak much about it, if one has really seen God. It is only when we imagine we may find in man and in his love for God something approaching to the love of God for us, that we speak of it, and think we are getting higher. This is only the effect of the vanity of a heart which knows neither God nor itself. Such is the true character of mysticism.
But does not this view of God, therefore, produce a humbling knowledge of ourselves? Yes, when we have not known what we are, nor the gospel which gives us the right to say, “I live, yet not I.” It was the case with Job and with many others. Job had looked within himself, and not into the grace which was in God. It was then needful for him to become acquainted with himself in the presence of God. But the gospel is God's answer to all these convulsions of the soul, by the revelation of what God is and of what God bas done for the one that He thoroughly knew, such as he was, and who has learned in the cross of Jesus what the love of God is, when there was in man nothing but sin; and sin seen of God in a way we can never see it, but which may be the occasion of a perfect work of love.
God has satisfied the claims of His holiness, His majesty, His righteousness, His love, in the work and in the person of Christ. He has found His rest there, and I have also found mine there. The mystic never has it, because he vainly seeks for in man that which he ought only to seek for in God, who had accomplished all, before he ever thought of it. Therefore the mystic seeks for a disinterested love; but where does he seek for it? In man.
Poor worshippers of man—of man deified in the imagination, but who will never be so any where else! On earth, sin is in him. In heaven, he will think of God alone. Hence it is that the imagination plays such a great part in mysticism, and hence it is also that Satan so often makes the mystic fall into his snares, because the imagination and heart of man are so thoroughly brought into play. I do not say that there are no spiritual affections in mysticism. Far from me be such a thought! I do not even say that God never reveals Himself to mystics. I have no doubt He does, and thus renders the person happy; but you will find him more occupied with those affections themselves than with God. Such is the evil which lies at the very root of mysticism. In a word, I see in it an effort of the human heart to produce in oneself something strong enough in the way of affection to satisfy a heart awakened by the excellence of the object and aim of our affections.
And now I am supposing the true awakening of the heart. I see, in Christ, a divine heart, which reflects the perfect certainty of a love, the perfection of which is in no wise called in question. This is peace. Now He tells us “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you.” And what peace is that which expresses itself in these words: “I knew that thou nearest me always: but because of the people which stand by I said it!” That peace is our portion, just as much as these words: “I know whom I have believed,” and many other passages.
Does this mean that these toils, these desires, of the soul before God cannot exist in a child of God?
Yes, they may exist there, but this again brings out clearly for us a difference between the work wrought in grace, and that which is wrought in the imagination only. The soul, before understanding redemption by the cross and our righteousness in Christ which is the consequence thereof, the awakened soul, I say, is exercised, and often seeks for peace in some spiritual progress; it attaches the idea of its rest to a love for God which it pursues without ever attaining it, and the effect of all this toil is to set the conscience on fire, and to produce, in us, the conviction that all toil is useless—that, in the flesh, good does not dwell. Or else, again, the conscience takes full cognizance of that which is taking place in the heart, and of what we are, so that one is led to give up seeking after peace in one's soul; one needs to be saved; one places oneself at the foot of the cross—but not in order to get immutable affections, because one acknowledges they are not possessed. It is not only the heart which is afflicted by this, although this also takes place, but the conscience knows and testifies that there is perdition, condemnation for our soul. One brings things, just as they are, into the presence of God: one needs to be saved. One no longer seeks for good in oneself in the shape of divine affections; but one finds it in God, in His goodness towards us; one has peace through Jesus Christ.
Is it that the deep affections, which the cross awakened in one, have ceased, because it is no longer a need that overwhelms me? No; conscience interfered, and put me in my right place; that which God has done, what He has given me, peace, is now established in my soul, and can no longer be disturbed. I have divine leisure, because nothing is uncertain in my relationship with God; nothing hinders me from contemplating all that is perfect in the object of my affections, without being occupied with myself.
The mystic humbles himself, because he still hopes to find good in himself; he is occupied with this, as if there could be any, and he finds nothing but evil. The Christian is humble, which is a very different thing, because he has given up the thought of any discovery of good in himself, in order to adore the One in whom there is only that which is good. Now it is not that he is mistaken, but that the enlightening of the conscience by the light of the Spirit and of the truth has put him in the right place. I think that Mdme. de Krüdener did not fully find this portion till her last illness. This is what often happens. Moravians, while quietly enjoying Christ, often go no farther. Mdme. de Krüdener was under the obligation of love—a very true thing; but she did not know it. She knew that God was love; but she wanted to be love also, and this is near akin to pride of heart, until we have taken our right place, as dead in our trespasses and sins, and understood love towards us, namely, that Christ has died, and that we have died and are risen in Him.
That is what is true.
The conflicts still exist, because the flesh is in us; and the Holy Ghost needs to occupy us sometimes with ourselves, in order to humble us. God being infinite, and His work perfect, there is always in Him, even when our peace is perfect, something to awaken all our energy of affection, an affection which cannot be satisfied, although it be perfectly assured of the love of Him whom it contemplates. This suits the relations of the creature with God, and it is a blessing for us, which cannot lessen our peace. This is something quite different from the mystical need of loving, which has indeed its reality, but which, nevertheless, has reference to the individual soul that knows neither God nor itself. Yet I often find my heart so cold that I derive some good from feeling it, because I know sufficiently well that I was lost and that I am saved, to hinder this from troubling my knowledge of a free salvation, accomplished without me, which glorifies God perfectly, and God alone. But often this view of our coldness does harm to souls that have not been emptied before God, the work having been transferred from the heart into the conscience in the presence of God.
It is astonishing from how many errors souls are delivered by this view of the love of God. Our human affections may attach themselves to the virgin, but conscience...? Do we find there any shedding of blood? She is nothing as to that, like the most miserable of sinners, she is a creature before God. In the same way, purgatory, the pretended repetition of the one sacrifice, absolution, extreme unction, and many other things disappear like shadows, without any controversy, just as the fears caused by darkness vanish away before the light of day, in face of a conscience which has found itself just as it was in the presence of God, and which has been perfectly purified there by the knowledge of His work in Christ.
The need of the conscience may drive a sincere soul to seek after those practices and superstitions; but to a purified conscience that knows God they are nullities. This it is that gives me a right feeling of horror for a system in which the fears of the conscience are made use of to hide the love of God. It is a manifest work of the enemy.
Finally consider, that we may not have to return to this, in the First Epistle of John, which touches the borders of mysticism, but with the finger of God, how the apostle, side by side with the greatest height of communion with God, ever again places the soul on the simple ground of salvation by effective faith. It is this that corrects the heart of man. (1 John 7, 10, and even the whole of the chapter.)
I now come to your work. You are conscious it is written for the world, so that it is under this aspect that it must be considered. A life of Mdme. de Krüdener places you in the midst of threats and ruin, and the misery which precedes: I make up my mind to it. One likes to see grace everywhere, that grace which despises neither great nor small. The ways of God, however, are different, when He acts in His own proper power. Then the world is left in its own true place, and the Son of God and His apostles and servants are brought before its great men sitting as a tribunal, and all this is turned into a testimony. It is thus that God causes His voice to penetrate into those places which are the farthest from Him—for this is what happens—while He preserves in its perfectness the character of His own and of all that belongs to Him. I admire His grace which deigns to act otherwise: but I admire His perfection, such as He has Himself presented it to me.
I said that I took for granted the worldly form of the book, and that thus you have left to every one the care of forming his own judgment on the worldly life of Mdme. de Krüdener. You have considered that the grace which pardoned everything establishes the true contact with evil, and you have passed over, without dwelling upon it and even without pointing it out, much of that in which she went astray. It seems to me, however, that while admitting the principle that it is a life you are writing and not a sermon, the fact of having left her husband a second time, after his great indulgence towards her—the fact of having again formed painful connections, at Paris, and thus fallen into a repetition of her former faults—showed a want of conscience and of a moral spring in Mdme. de Krüdener, and such as the world could and ought to have felt. Her husband, it is true, was no husband, as to the inward ties of her moral existence; but that kindness, which had replaced her in a moral position ought to have awakened a feeling of thankfulness at least, if there had been in her the possibility of it. I think the weakness of her moral state was reproduced and is found again in her spiritual errings, for the ways of God are righteous.
I have still another remark to make to you. It seems to me that your desire to win the world, has led you to the mistake of introducing the letter from Monsieur de Frégeville. I do not admit that even the world calls such things a pure homage. After these remarks which I make with perfect freedom, I come to her life after her conversion.
Her devotedness awakened my deepest interest. It is very refreshing in a selfish world, the slave of appearances and forms which one makes use of in order to hide oneself, because one is too enlightened to allow oneself to be seen, as well as in order to preserve one's selfishness as intact as possible without acknowledging it—in the midst of this world, which has no independence because it has no heart, it is refreshing to meet with something which passes over its barriers, and acts from motives which come from the heart, and proceed from love—that love which is the only true-liberty.
Thus the devotedness of Mdme. de Krüdener interested me much, and also humbled me. The little that I have had during my life makes me enjoy hers; and so insignificant has been mine, that it makes me admire what I see in her; but, here also, I again find the ways of God.
When devotedness proceeded directly from Himself, and manifested itself in His ways, the energy which was found in it was realized in a result which was entirely of Himself, and that devotedness was kept from the misleadings and snares which are of the enemy. Now God can never abandon His ways. Whenever man abandons them, even while devoting himself, the enemy fills up the gaps under one form or another. One often feels surprised that a great part of the life of a devoted and spiritual person has been passed in errors and going astray. One asks oneself, how it is possible that the Spirit of God, whose presence produces that life, should comport with those errors. I say, on the contrary, that as regards the government of God, it is a natural consequence. Can God put His imprimatur on that which is contrary to His own thoughts? Will He refuse blessing in answer to real devotedness, because there is error? He cannot sanction what is contrary to His thoughts, but neither can He refuse His blessing to real devotedness.
What is the consequence of this, as regards Mdme. de Krüdener? The blessing and the tender care of the Father are again found in her work; God keeps His child in spite of her errings; but He allows the evil and the false confidence which accompanies it to bear their natural consequences; if it were not so, He would be justifying evil.
If the work of Mdme. de Krüdener had been of the same character as that of Paul, and had received the same seal, this seal would have been put upon that which was contrary to the will of God. The mercy of God does not permit this, and does not act thus.
An ardent, sensitive woman, ready to receive impressions, full of imagination, yielding to impressions and influences from without, and to the excitement produced by circumstances—such is Mdme. de Krüdener. The principle of her activity being divine, at bottom, this is also found in the work. Satan meddles with it, and always uses the flesh, which has been allowed to have a part in the work to spoil it. Such is the history of all such cases.
If the world judged itself aright, and if it were in that which is true before God, there would be no difficulty in discovering the part allowed to human and fleshly elements in Christian work. God does not explain things to those who are not in His Spirit: it would be to sanction evil, although He may bring us out of this state by grace, and is faithful, so that He will not suffer us to be tempted above that we are able. If one relies upon Him, there can be no danger. If there be precipitation, He must make one undergo the consequences of it. If there exists a spiritual groundwork, it will also be found in eternal blessedness; for, in the government of God, everything has its necessary consequences, perfectly ordered. God may, in grace, make use of what He pleases, as an instrument of His purposes. He could honor, as such, a woman who was repentant and devoted. He did so in His grace; but that over-excited woman, who had not a sufficiently deep sense of what she had been, was not an instrument of the ways of God, perfect enough for Him to use her in all His work, or to bless all her work. But these defects in the instrument produce consequences, which, closely viewed, serve in themselves to manifest the wisdom of the ways of God. I believe, moreover, that a certain state of things in Christians and in the kingdom of God does not comport with perfect instruments and a perfect action in the thoughts of God. They would be out of place there and could not even accomplish His work.
This may appear extraordinary; but let us imagine Paul returning into this Christianized world: I hardly know what he could do there. God always knows what to do, because He is above everything. He will judge at last, and will show forth His grace by removing into glory those who have been faithful in the midst of confusion; but the sent ones, who are the creation of a perfect order, are not fit to mix with that confusion and to take their share of the moral guilt of those who have marred that order. Their interfering in the midst of such elements might bring dishonor on that bright light of new affections of which Christ is the center and object. Christ Himself begins His discourses by “Blessed,” “Blessed.” It was natural that the heart of Him who came from heaven should be thus poured out; but He closed by “Woe unto you,” “Woe unto you.”
Is it that His grace is lessened No: I cannot think so! It is, on the contrary, more tested, more brought into evidence, more glorious, and His immutable faithfulness more secured than, ever to our hearts. But He could not be at the close what He was at the beginning. It is the same with the work. But the love and blessedness of him who understands this grace are as great as before. In his Epistle to the Philippians, Paul has ripened, and one can see him more deeply in Christ than at the time of all that power by which he confounded his adversaries. His experience of Christ is more complete and his heart also more perfect in its feelings.
In another dispensation, Elijah could compare himself to Moses, with whom he was present at the transfiguration of the Lord on the mount; but Elijah, in the presence of the golden calf, could not set up a tabernacle as Moses did. He was, by that very reason, a more striking witness of the grace of God.
I have one remark more to make on Mdme. de Krüdener, less important indeed, but I think it true. She was lacking in spiritual originality and in sincerity. This is a defect which betrays itself also in her work, and it is one of the things which gave it its character. Her impressions came from Zung-Stilling, Oberlin, Terstegen, Maria.
This may not surprise one perhaps in a woman; but let us conclude withal that a woman cannot be in a chief place in the work of God. This is foreign to the ways of God. A woman may help much in the work, but she cannot occupy a principal place. She may do things which a man cannot do; but she cannot do what a man does. This is true in a more important point of view. She could not receive directly from Christ her impulsions for a work which He did not give her to do. The love of Christ was there, but the impulsion came from elsewhere. Now, when it is Christ Himself who sets the heart in motion, He acts upon the new man, just as He produces in us that new man, which the wicked one touches not. His presence acts upon the conscience, puts the flesh to silence; it puts man all to naught, and all his vanity, his self-love, and his good opinion of himself. The whole man is judged in His presence, and the work produced is of Christ Himself, whatever be the vessel which contains it. If there is the danger of its being otherwise, a thorn in the flesh is sent, as with Paul.
When we receive our impressions or impulsions from without, second-hand, the flesh and the heart are not judged at all, although the love of Christ be in us. They show themselves outwardly in the work, and the agent is exposed, by the very fact of his activity, to all kinds of snares of the enemy, snares the consequences of which are also found in the work. Such was the case with Mdme. de Krüdener; but she will assuredly not lose the reward of her devotedness, the sincerity of which I do not in any way question.
There was too much of man in her, and in her work, and man is always false. This has the more to be remarked, because, while feeling the love of Christ, she never truly knew the gospel till her last illness, as being herself in the presence of God. It was then that she owned that she had often taken her imagination for the voice of God; for it is there only that man dies, and that God skews Himself as He is. Now until man dies, Satan can always make use of him, and there is a lack of spiritual discernment. The fact of the accomplishment of her predictions and visions proves nothing at all in these things. All this accompanies also the power of Satan; but the spiritual man, being humble, easily weighs these things, when God places him in His presence, and when he takes the word of God for the absolute guide of his judgment.
These are, you may tell me, remarks on Mdme. de Krüdener and not on her work; save a few words of blame, you have told me nothing at all about it. You mistake. Few compliments do I make, it is true; but the best and the truest praise of a book is that it produces thoughts in him who reads it, and such, you see, has been the result of the reading of it.
I have pointed out to you the defect, which, to my mind, rather spoils it. Moreover, taking the same view as the book itself, I think it cannot be corrected, save the letters of M. de Frégeville; for I do not think that at this moment you could place yourself in the presence of Christ, and present them under the aspect under which you have presented them in this book.
Every moral position has its time. In our state of imperfection, where instead of reflecting something of the perfection and riches of Christ, one generally acts in separating the rays, this imperfection shows itself alas! in the soul of the Christian who thinks himself judge of everything and a workman in everything.
It would be important to know what was read habitually by Mdme. de Krüdener. Sometimes one can suspect it. Oberlin himself, who is known for his devotedness, had an unbridled imagination and was a famous heretic, whose errors still bear their fruits—now that man and the Church itself have forgotten and lost sight of that which was the object of their admiration—for God's judgment is not that of man. Terstegen also had certain well-known errors. I do not know if one could find him out; but it would give one element more of the character of Mdme. de Krüdener, if we knew something more of his visions. Nevertheless it is good not to feed the vain curiosity of the public, and I approve there not being more of it in your volumes. Yet as these visions acted powerfully on her life, in order to form a sound judgment, one ought to know more of them.