"And that," she said, "I have long desired, and now at last thou hast
given me my desire...."
The parable proceeds to relate the service of each handmaiden bestowed by
Love upon the soul, first True Repentance--then the maiden called
Humility--Gentleness--Obedience, Tenderness (who was to give her help in
tending the sick, and in making coarse food and hard labour sweet to her
who served). Then came the "beloved damsel" Purity, then Patience,
Holiness, Hope, and the "glorious and holy maiden called Faith." Then
Watchfulness, Moderation, Contentment, "the dear maiden who made the hard
bed soft, and the coarse food pleasant." Then the mistress of the
maidens, Wisdom, and a "maiden unwillingly praised," called Bashfulness.
And lastly came Fear and Constancy.
And these all being ready to serve, the soul gave thanks, "O thou dear
Love of God, I thank Thee that Thou hast brought to me so many helpers on
my way to heaven." And the soul saw how all the saints and angels bowed
down in the wonderful glory of God, because all they were, and all they
did, was a gift of grace from God to them. "The saints kneel down and bow
themselves before God in blessed love, and in joyful longing. They thank
God that His grace was ready and waiting to bring them through this
earthly need, and to bear their sorrows."
Four Things that Belong to Faith.
That we believe in Christ as God, loving God from the heart, truly
confessing Jesus Christ, and faithfully following His teaching even unto
death. I think that in these four things we find eternal life.
But our faith must be a Christian faith, not the faith of Jews, or of
unbelieving Christians, who also profess to believe in one God, but who
believe not in the holy works which He has wrought. His work they
despise, as we grieve to know. But for us, our belief is that God sent
His only-begotten Son into the world, and that it was His Will to do so.
We believe in the work and death of our Lord Jesus Christ, whereby He has
redeemed our souls. We believe in the Holy Ghost, who has perfected our
blessedness in the Father and in the Son, and who brings forth in us all
the works that are pleasing to God.
From a Friend to a Friend.
Great and overflowing is the love of God, that never standeth still, but
floweth on for ever and without ceasing, with no labour or effort, but
freely and fully, so that our little vessel is full and over-full. If we
do not stop the channel by our self-will it will never slacken in its
flowing, but the gift of God will ever make our cup to run over.
Lord, Thou art full of grace, and therewith Thou fillest us. But Thou art
great, and we are small, how then can we receive that which Thou givest?
Lord, whilst Thou givest to us, it is for us to give to others. Truly our
vessel that Thou hast filled is a small one, but a small one can be
emptied and filled anew, till it has filled a large one.
The great vessel is full sufficiency of grace, but we, alas! are so
small, that one little word from God, one little verse of the Holy
Scriptures, so fills us, that we can contain no more. Let us then empty
forth the little vessel into the great vessel, that is, God. How are we
to do this? We should pour forth that which we have received in holy
longing and desire for the salvation of sinners. Then will the little
vessel be filled again. Let us empty it forth anew on the imperfections
of the people of God, that they may fight more valiantly, and may become
perfected in grace. Let us pour it forth in holy pity for the need of the
Christian Church, that is sunk so deeply in sin.
God has first loved us, first laboured for us, first suffered for us, let
us therefore be followers of Him, and restore to Him in the way that I
have described that which He gave. Our Lord suffered for us unto death,
but a very small suffering of ours seems great to us. But the thoughts of
God and those of the loving soul meet together, as the air and the
sunlight are mingled by the mighty power of God in sweet union, so that
the sun overcomes the frost and the darkness, one knows not how. It comes
all and alone from the sun. So comes our blessedness from the joy of God.
God grant us, and preserve to us, this blessedness! Amen.
Something of Paradise.
It was shown to me, and in my mind I saw, what manner of place is
Paradise. Of its breadth and length I could see no end. First came I to a
place that was between this world and the beginning of Paradise.
There saw I trees with much shade and fair green grass, but weeds were
there none. Some trees bore fruit, but most of them only beautiful and
sweet smelling leaves. Swift streams of water divided the ground, and
warm south winds moved onward towards the north. In the waters were
mingled earthly sweetness and heavenly delight. The air was sweet and
soft beyond all words. Yet were no birds or beasts in that place; for God
had prepared it for men only, that they might be there in stillness and
in peace.... I saw a twofold Paradise. It is of the earthly one that I
have spoken. The heavenly Paradise is in the heights above, and shields
the earthly from all harm. But of the heavenly Paradise Matilda only says
that it is for a time, and that it is the place wherein the souls who
have had no purgatory await the Kingdom of the Lord, "they move in sweet
delight, as the air moves in the sunshine," and will one day have their
crowns of glory, and will reign with Christ.
The End of the Journey.
It was evident to Matilda that her end was near. Her age was what would
be called old age in the Middle Ages, when life was so much shorter than
in our time. "I asked the Lord," she said, "how I should conduct myself
in these last days of my life. He answered me, 'Thou shouldst do in thy
last days as in thy first days. Love and longing, repentance and fear,
these four things were the beginning of thy course, and must therefore be
the end also.'
"Then said I, 'Beloved Lord, where, then, are the two things that are the
foundation and crown of heavenly blessedness, where are faith and full
assurance?'
"Then said our Lord, 'Thy faith becometh knowledge, and thy longing is
turned into full assurance.' This I understood from the speaking of the
Lord to me, and I know it also in my heart.
"I am a wonder to myself, and am indeed a wonder. For when I think of
death, my soul rejoices so mightily in the thought of going forth from
earthly life, that my body is lulled, as it were, in an inexpressible
supernatural quietness, soft and sweet, and my mind is awakened to see
the unspeakable wonders that attend the going forth of the soul.
Meanwhile I would desire most to die at the time which God has before
appointed. Yet at the same time I would willingly live till the last
great day. And my heart longs oftentimes to live in the days of the
martyrs, that I might shed my sinful blood in true Christian faith for
Jesus my Beloved.
"That I dare to say I love God, is a gift of His pure grace. For it is
when my sins and sufferings are before my eyes that my soul begins to
burn in the fire of the true love of God, and the sweetness is so
surpassing, that even my body shares in the Divine blessedness. I write
this as it were by compulsion, for I would rather hold my peace, because
I live in fear and dread of secret tendency to vainglory. Yet I am more
afraid, when God has been so gracious to me, that I, poor and empty as I
am, have kept silence too often and too long.
"From my childhood onwards I was troubled with fear, dread, and constant
sorrow of heart in thinking of my end. Now in my last days God has given
me peace. And I have said to Him, 'Lord, it likes me well to think of the
light and blessedness of thy heavenly glory, of which I am so unworthy,
but I still have a great fear as to how my soul shall pass from my body.'
And the Lord answered, 'It shall be thus--I draw My breath, and the soul
will follow on to Me, as the needle to the magnet stone.'"
And again she prayed that at that last moment the Lord would come to her,
as "the dearest Friend," as the "Confessor," as the Father.
"O Lord, I pray, when dawneth the last day
These weary eyes shall see,
Come as a father to his darling child,
And take me home to Thee."
In these prayers and longings we find no thought of purgatory. Yet as an
article of her creed Matilda believed in it. Nor did any thought of
superior holiness make her overlook it in her own case. But the true
spiritual instinct of the new nature was stronger than the force of
education and of the authority of the Church. How true is it that in
spiritual matters the head is no match for the heart.
So in the case of saint-worship--Matilda had never renounced it, yet we
see her heart turn instinctively to God, as the needle to the pole.
The waiting time was one of suffering, but cheered by the love and
tenderness of the sisters, who delighted to wait upon her.
"Thus does a beggar woman speak in her prayers to God--Lord, I thank Thee
that since in Thy love Thou hast taken from me all earthly riches, Thou
now feedest and clothest me by the means of others; for everything which
I can now call my own, and all that gives joy to my heart, must now come
to me from strangers.
"Lord, I thank Thee that since Thou hast taken away the power of sight
from mine eyes, Thou hast appointed other eyes to serve me. Lord, I thank
Thee that since Thou hast taken the strength from my hands, Thou servest
me with other hands. Lord, I thank Thee that since Thou hast taken away
the strength of my heart, Thou servest me now by the hearts of strangers.
Lord, I pray Thee reward them here on earth with Thy divine love, and
grant to them to serve Thee faithfully till they reach a blessed end."
The Last Poem.
_Thus speaks the suffering body to the patient soul._
With the wings of longing when wilt thou fly
To the hills of the glorious land on high,
To Christ thine eternal love?
Thank Him for me, though vile I be,
That His grace for me hath a share;
That He took our sorrows and felt our need,
That we are His love and care.
Ask Him, that safe in his tender Hand
In sweet rest I may lie,
When we part at the bounds of the pilgrim land,
Thou, soul and I.
_Then doth the Soul make answer._
I thank thee that thou on the pilgrim road
Hast been my comrade true;
Often wert thou a weary load,
Yet didst thou bear me through.
When the Day shall come that is to dawn
Shall all thy sorrows be past and gone;
Therefore let us give thanks and praise,
For His love who guarded us all our days,
And for hope of the joy that is to be,
For thee and me.
How did Matilda die? We know no more. Her death is mentioned in the
_Mechthild Book_, Matilda von Hackeborn being one of those present at her
death. But, alas! as it often happens in the search for mediaeval facts,
we are met instead by a relation of visions and dreams. Matilda von
Hackeborn tells us no more than how she beheld in a vision the departure
of the soul of her namesake.[11]
The difficulty is to realise that in these imaginary histories we are
reading the writings of some who, like Matilda of Hackeborn, had, in
spite of their visions, real intercourse with God.
That Matilda of Magdeburg had this true intercourse, based upon the
written Word of God, that she was one of those of whom the Lord Jesus
said, "I will love him, and will manifest Myself to him," there can be no
doubt in any Christian mind. It was the time of the conflict of light
with darkness, of the prejudices of early education with the experiences
of communion with the living God. The heart received much that
contradicted the nominal belief, and this inconsistency was not remarked
by the recipient of the truth, because the mind was not called upon to
act in the matter. It was left in inert subjection to the teaching of the
Church.
When nearly three hundred years later the mind asserted its rights, and
the Reformers gave at length Scriptural proofs of that which the "Friends
of God" had experienced, all might have been well. But, alas! the weight
was shifted to the other side, and that which had been a matter of the
heart became after a while a matter of the reason, to be discussed and
assented to by those who had no heart in the question. We have to suffer
for this in our days. Let us learn not to be contented with proofs in
black and white, valuable as they are. We need that communion of heart
with God by the power of the Holy Ghost, which needs no proof, and which
is the only remedy for our lukewarmness, our worldliness, and our
joylessness.
The Nun Gertrude.
It is of interest to trace in the convent of Hellfde the results of the
work and the teaching of the Abbess Gertrude and of the Beguine Matilda.
It was not in vain that the abbess had given to the Scriptures such a
place of honour, and had so diligently studied them, and insisted upon
their study. Nor was it in vain that Matilda of Magdeburg had spoken and
written of the free grace of God, and of the love of Christ that passeth
knowledge.
This teaching was the beginning of a stream of life and light, which
became deeper and wider as it flowed along. And we find in the next book
written in the convent a clearer and fuller confession of the truth. This
book, written in part by the Nun Gertrude, in part by an unnamed sister,
consists of five separate books, together called _Insinuationes divinae
pietatis_. Of four of these books little can be said, except that they
consist chiefly of the visions and revelations of the authoress, and
accounts of visions seen by the Nun Gertrude. It is in the second of the
five books, the only one written by Gertrude herself, that we find that
which repays the trouble of sifting the true from the false, and the gems
of marvellous lustre from the dust-heaps in which they lie buried.
A translation of some of the most remarkable passages in this second book
has already been given, as mentioned above, in the book, "Trees Planted
by the River." But a few more short extracts will perhaps add to the
proof of Gertrude's clear and simple trust in Christ, as revealed in the
Gospel.
"When I consider," she writes, "the character of my life from the
beginning and onwards I have to confess in truth it is a history of
nothing but grace, grace without the smallest deserving on the part of
one so unworthy as I am. For Thou didst of Thy free grace bestow upon me
clearer light in the knowledge of Thyself, and Thou didst lead me on by
the alluring sweetness of Thy love and kindness. I was more attracted by
Thy love, than I could have been driven by the punishment which, on the
part of Thy holy justice, was due to me."
"The great power and sound strength of Gertrude's mind," writes Preger,
"could not allow her to satisfy herself with the visions in which she had
a share. She sought a firmer foothold for her new life, a source which
should lastingly and invariably satisfy her inmost being. And with the
whole energy of the mind, which had formerly been absorbed in secular
learning, she gave herself to the study of the Holy Scriptures, and of
such commentaries as she could find to explain them, amongst others those
of Augustine and Bernard.
"How deeply she felt the value of the treasures laid up for her in the
Scriptures, we learn from the joyful inspiration which filled her soul
when reading them. 'She could not,' writes the unnamed nun, 'drink in
enough each day of the wonderful sweetness she found in meditating on the
Word of God, and in searching for the hidden light which she found in it.
It was sweeter to her than honey, and more lovely than the sound of the
organ, and consequently it seemed as though her heart was filled with an
almost unceasing joy.'
"'She copied out from the Scriptures and from commentators whole books of
extracts, which she wrote for the convent sisters; and was often employed
from early in the morning till late at night in endeavouring to write
explanations of difficult passages, so as to render them more
intelligible to her sisters. For it was a part of her nature to lead on
others in the same path, and to work for those around her, so as to
exercise a wholesome influence, forming them and helping them.
"'She also provided other convents which had few books with extracts from
the Bible. Thus the Scriptures were the Alpha and Omega of her thoughts.
All her reflections, warnings, and consolations had a Bible passage as
their source. It was astonishing, her friend said, how invariably the
right word from the Scriptures was ready to hand in each case; and
whether she reproved or counselled, she made use of the witness of Holy
Scripture as that which no one might dare to gainsay.
"'This universal tendency of her mind to draw others into the enjoyment
of that which she possessed, and to work for this end, explains how
instantly and willingly she would tear herself away from silent
contemplation, to use any occasion that presented itself for active work
for others. To return to contemplation again was then easy for her.'
"We perceive from this remark the breadth, and at the same time the
strength, of her mind, as well as the harmony of her inner and outer
life. This is not contradicted by the fact that her friend mentions as
her chief fault a certain impatience and vehemence, for which she often
blamed herself. It arose from her strong impulse to work for others."
Preger further remarks: "It was in the ninth year after her conversion,
1289 and 1290, that she wrote that remarkable book which forms the second
of the five books of the _Insinuationes_. It consists of confessions in
forcible language, from the heights of the strongest feeling and the
clearest perception. At the same time, the great gifts with which she was
endowed shine the more brightly from their accompaniment of the most
touching humility. This book, together with her 'Practices of Piety,' a
book of prayers, belong to the most beautiful products of mystical
literature.
"In her case, a progress from legal bondage to ever-increasing liberty of
spirit is clearly marked. When once her new spiritual life had had its
beginning in evangelical faith, it followed from the strength and
wholesome soundness of her mind, that the unfolding of this spiritual
freedom should proceed in spite of the opposition of religious tradition,
and should prove victorious. It is of the greatest interest to trace this
progress as far as we have the means of doing so."
This onward path from asceticism, self-chastisement, and bitter sorrow
over the fallen Church, to calm and happy communion with Christ, was
remarked by others, and the passage from bondage to liberty was a cause
of joyful thanksgiving to herself.
"At all times," writes her anonymous friend, "she rejoiced in such
assured confidence, that neither calamity, nor loss, nor any other
hindrance, nay, not even her sins or shortcomings, could overcloud it;
for she had always the full and firm assurance of the rich grace and
mercy of God. If she felt herself stained by daily sins, it was her
custom to take refuge at the feet of Christ, to be washed in His Blood
from all spot and stain."
It will be remarked that Gertrude had not yet fully apprehended the great
truth that the worshipper once purged has no more conscience of sin, that
"by one offering Christ hath perfected for ever them that are
sanctified," and that for this reason there is no repetition of
sacrifice. For "without _shedding_ of Blood is no remission," and the
Blood of expiation once shed, can be shed no more for ever.
But it may be that Gertrude, like many now, confused the recalling of
that blood-shedding which put away sin, a recalling which gives comfort
when we feel that we have sinned afresh, with the actual cleansing, once
and for ever, in the precious Blood of Christ--the actual cleansing never
to be repeated, but the comfort and peace founded upon it a constant
experience, which the heart may rejoice in on every fresh occasion of the
confession of sin.
"When she felt," continues her friend, "the marvellous power of the grace
of God, she did not betake herself to penances, but, committing herself
freely to the drawing of that grace, she yielded herself as an instrument
for loving service, free to receive all that God gave, and to be used by
Him for His work."
It is further remarked that she looked upon God's gift of grace in His
Son as so immeasurable and marvellous, that all human endeavour and
doings vanished to a point when compared with it, and were not worth
mentioning.
And with regard to her own assurance of faith, she saw that also was a
gift of God's free grace bestowed on her in spite of her undeservings. It
would seem as if this strong faith and sense of God's unutterable love,
had led her entirely beyond the land of bondage in which her
fellow-Christians were living. She was as a child at liberty in the
Father's home.
On one occasion when taking a walk, she fell down a steep place, and
getting up unhurt, she said, "O my beloved Jesus, how well it had been
for me had that fall brought me quickly home to Thee!" And when the
sisters who were with her said in wonderment, "Would you not be afraid to
die without the sacrament?" she answered, "I would desire the sacrament
if I were dying, but far, far more do I desire the will of my God and His
appointment for me. That is the best preparation for death; for however I
die, my hope is in the mercy that will never fail me. Without that I
should be lost, whether I died suddenly, or with a sure knowledge
beforehand that the time was come."
For she no longer regarded herself as apart from Christ, but as in Him,
and as one in whom He dwelt, and therefore looked upon herself as
belonging to Him, and, consequently, instead of mortifying her body, she
looked upon taking food or rest as something done for the Lord.
"Not," says Preger, "that in regard to others she had fully cast aside
the prevailing belief in the merit of works, but in her own case she saw
but her own sin and God's free grace. And with regard to the works of
others, she considered no value attached to them if they were done with a
view to reward. Those good works, she said, which people do from habit,
have a black mark set against them; those done for Christ's sake, and by
His power, a red mark. But the red mark has a black mark across it, if
there is any thought of gaining merit by those works. They have a golden
mark when they are done simply for His honour, with no other aim in
view."
It should be remarked also that Gertrude entertained strong misgivings
with regard to the common practices of exciting devotion by appeals to
the senses. The erection of mangers at Christmas, and the representations
in pictures and images of the sufferings and the death of Christ,
appeared to her useless and dangerous. She feared that true personal
intercourse with God in the Spirit and in truth, would be hindered by
these means.
Nor did she share the devotion of her contemporaries to relics of any
sort. "The Lord has shown me," she said, "that the most worthy relics
which remain of Him are His Words."
"In such a soul," writes Preger, "in which Christ was so entirely the
central point, it was natural that Mary should recede into the
background. It is true that the spirit of the age was not wanting in the
influence brought to bear upon her, and the cult of Mary does not
disappear, therefore, from the pages of her book. But she tells us that
she was filled with bitter grief when, on one of the festivals of the
Virgin, she heard a sermon which contained nothing but the praises of
Mary, and of the value of the Incarnation of the Lord not a word. After
this sermon, as she passed by the altar of the Virgin, she could not feel
in her heart the sweet devotion to her which she had sometimes known. She
was roused into a sort of displeasure with Mary herself, because she
seemed to her to stand in the way of her Beloved."
It is a painful example of the arguing of an enlightened conscience with
a conscience shackled and enslaved by superstition. She imagined the Lord
would have her salute His Mother, and her heart answered "Never." And at
last she resolved the difficulty by the belief that in doing that which
she was unwilling to do, rather than that which would have satisfied her
heart, she was pleasing the Lord Himself.
It is useful for us to follow these conflicts of a heart devoted to
Christ, with the awful power of generally accepted evil teaching. The
spirit of the age is not at any time the Spirit of God. How much power
does the spirit of unbelief, of lukewarmness, of corrupted Christianity,
exercise upon us?
It matters little that the errors are of a different order. If Mary stood
in the way of Christ in the days of Gertrude, is there nothing that
amongst "enlightened Protestants" stands now between the soul and the
Saviour? Is there nothing believed and taught amongst us which blinds the
eyes of lost and helpless sinners to their need of a Saviour? nothing
which blinds the guilty to their need of the Atoning Blood? nothing which
turns the eyes from Christ, the Coming One, to look for a millennium, not
of His Presence, but rather a time when grapes grow on thorns, and figs
on thistles?
To return to Gertrude, groping her way from the dim twilight around her
to the glorious Gospel day. She was once told that there was to be an
indulgence of many years proclaimed to those who were willing to
sacrifice their riches to buy it. For a moment Gertrude wished she had
"many pounds of gold and silver." But the Lord spoke to her heart and
said, "Hearken! By virtue of My authority receive thou perfect and full
forgiveness of all thy sins and shortcomings." And she saw at that moment
that her soul in the eyes of God was whiter than snow.
When, some days later, this confidence still filled her with joy, she
began to fear lest she had deceived herself. "For," she thought, "if the
Lord really gave me that white raiment, surely I must have stained it
many times since then by my many faults." But the Lord comforted her,
saying, "Is it not true that I always retain in My hand a greater power
than I bestow upon My creatures? Hast thou not seen how the sun by the
power of its heat draws out the spots and stains from the white linen
that it bleaches, and makes it whiter than it was before? How much more
can I, the Creator of the sun, keep in stainless whiteness the soul upon
whom I have had mercy, pouring forth upon it the warmth of my burning
love?"
Here, again, we see that Gertrude arrived at the right sense of perfect
forgiveness, though it was rather the Love of Christ than His
bloodshedding which gave her this assurance. She no doubt had an
unclouded belief in the expiation made by His blood, as we see from other
passages in her book. But in resting her assurance on His love, if that
were (as happily it was not) the whole ground of her confidence, she
would have failed in the possession of unchanging peace. She would have
rejoiced at the moments when she realised His great love, and have feared
and trembled when the sense of it was overclouded by sin and infirmity.
The Christian taught of God looks back to see how Christ once bore his
sins in His own body on the cross, and looks up to see Christ in glory as
the proof that those sins are for ever put away. He rests upon these
unchangeable facts--all _the more_, therefore, realising the marvellous
love of the Divine Saviour who died for him, and rose again for his
justification.
Gertrude did seek and find this solid foundation. "The longing for
certainty," writes Preger, "characterises her inner life. Her powerful
mind could only be satisfied in the firm grasping of evident truth. This
led her to feel the necessity of immediate intercourse with God." And
when she had the assurance of knowing the will of God, she acted,
therefore, with an extraordinary decision and promptness. The sisters
were astonished at the suddenness of her determinations, and the speed
with which she carried them out. They suspected at first that she was
self-willed, but they came afterwards to the conclusion that she was
carrying out the will of God.
In the last years of her life her longing to depart and to be with Christ
became so intense, that she fought against it as a mark of an impatient
spirit. "But," says Preger, "to what clearness and assurance of Divine
truth she had been led, we see from the joyful confidence with which she
looked forward to death and judgment." In the last chapters of her book
of prayers, before mentioned, we find a passage with which it is well to
conclude the history of her spiritual life.
"O Truth, Thou hast for Thine inseparable companions Justice and Equity.
In number, measure, and weight Thy judgment stands firm. That which Thou
weighest, Thou weighest in a perfect balance. Woe is me, a thousandfold
woe, if I fall into Thine hands and there should be found no substitute
to take my place.
"O Love Divine, Thou wilt provide the substitute. Thou wilt answer for
me. Thou wilt undertake my cause, that I may live because of Thee.
"I know what I will do. I will take the cup of salvation. The Cup, which
is Jesus, I will place in the empty scale. Thus--thus all my deficiency
will be made up, all my sin covered, all my ruin restored, and all my
imperfection will become more than perfect.
"Lord, at this hour (six o'clock) Thy Son Jesus was brought to judgment.
Thou didst lay upon Him the sin of the whole world, upon Him who was
sinless, but who was called to render account for my sin and my guilt.
Yea, O my God, I receive Him from Thine hand as my companion in the
judgment; I receive Him, the Most Innocent, the Most Beloved, Him who was
condemned and slain for love to me, and now Thy gift, O my loving God, to
me.
"O blessed Truth, to come before Thee without my Jesus would be my fear
and terror, but to come with Him is joy and gladness. O Truth, now mayest
Thou sit down on the judgment-seat and bring against me what Thou wilt. I
fear nothing. I know--I know that Thy glorious face will have no terror
for me, for He is with me, who is all my hope and all my assurance. I
would ask, how canst Thou now condemn me when I have my Jesus as mine,
that dearest, that truest Saviour, who has borne all my sin and misery
that He might win for me eternal pardon.
"My beloved Jesus, blessed Pledge of my redemption, Thou wilt appear
before the judgment-seat for me. By Thy side do I stand there. Thou the
Judge, and Thou the Substitute also. Then wilt Thou recount what Thou
didst become for love of me, how tenderly Thou hast loved me, how dearly
Thou hast bought me, that I through Thee might be righteous before God.
"Thou hast betrothed me to Thyself; how could I be lost? Thou hast borne
my sins. Thou hast died, that to all eternity I might never die. All that
is Thine Thou hast freely given me, that I through Thy deserving might be
rich. Even so, in the hour of death, I shall be judged according to that
innocence, according to that purity, which Thou hast freely given me,
when Thou didst pay the whole debt for me by giving Thyself. Thou wert
judged and condemned for my sake, that I, poor and helpless as I am,
might be more than rich in all the wealth that is Thine, and mine through
Thee."
The Voice that for ever Speaks.
Thus to the ear that listens for the One beloved Voice, come from those
old times the familiar tones, the household words of the family of God.
These souls, so misled, so darkened by the mists of evil teaching, yet by
the power of the Holy Ghost saw the Son and believed on Him, and had
everlasting life. His sheep followed Him, for they knew His voice, and
their souls were filled with love and praise.
Did they not often mistake for His voice the imaginations of their own
hearts? Yes, often they did so, and perhaps we do it less often, because
less often do we listen for His voice. He speaks and we are deaf, and we
go on our way expecting no word from His lips, and therefore there is
nothing which we suppose to be that Voice, and our delusions are
altogether of another nature.
Our delusion in these days is that there is no immediate, daily, hourly
communication between the soul and God. We do not mistake by regarding
false coin as true; our mistake is that the true coin has ceased to exist
since the days when John and Paul spoke to the Lord and He answered them,
and the Holy Spirit spoke, and they listened.
Yet still as of old there are those whose eyes have been anointed with
eye-salve and they see Him, and their ears unstopped and they hear Him,
and they can bear witness to the truth that the Comforter abides with us
for ever, and takes still of the things of Jesus and shows them unto us;
and these can recognise in the old histories of the saints of God the
same voice and the same teaching, and can trace it back to the written
Word, to which it answers as the stamp to the seal.
It is well for us also to bear in mind the delusions, and, to us,
inconceivable errors which were mistaken in past ages for the voice of
God. That the chief work of Satan has been from the beginning to
counterfeit the work of God, we know from revelation. Nor have we to be
on our guard against Satanic power alone. The tremendous force of early
education, of the general opinion of the world around us, do not act less
powerfully upon us than upon those in former days.
It is true that the course of this age is "according to the prince of the
power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of
disobedience." The course of each age since Adam sinned has been thus
shaped. But mere natural tendency to receive what we call truths, without
taking the trouble to think, and to form opinions, as well as courses of
action, by habit simply and only, can lead us far enough astray without
any other misleading force.
The convent of Hellfde is a remarkable proof of the power of Satan, and
of the distortion of our nature, acting upon those who were true-hearted
believers in the Lord Jesus Christ, true children of God, and truly
taught by Him in the midst of many delusions. Had they applied the test
of Holy Scripture to all which they believed to be the voice of God, a
very small part of it would have stood the test, in the case of the
sister, for example, who wrote four of the five parts of the _Gertrude
Book_. The remarkable difference of the second book written by Gertrude
herself from the four others, remains as a proof of the fact that the
"entrance of the Lord's Word giveth light and understanding to the
simple."
But in the case of communications regarded as the voice of God, and _not_
standing in opposition to His Word, must not a further distinction be
made? Even then the mind may possibly be exercised in simply recalling
passages of Scripture, and may be influenced by them as in the case of
ordinary writings. Is there nothing more than this which is meant by the
statements of the Lord Jesus Christ when speaking of the intercourse
between the soul and Himself?
"Why do ye not understand My speech? even because ye cannot hear My
word." There is, then, a hearing of which the unbelieving man is
incapable. "He that is of God heareth God's words. Ye therefore hear them
not, because ye are not of God." Thus there are those who "hear indeed
and understand not, and see indeed but perceive not." On the other hand,
there are the sheep of Christ, "who follow Him, for they know His voice."
"My sheep hear My voice, and I know them, and they follow Me."
How, then, was it that the true sheep of Christ in the convent of Hellfde
followed at times the voice of strangers, and mistook it for His own?[12]
Should we therefore conclude that _all_ they received as His was but the
working of their own minds, or a snare of the evil one?
If so, the Lord Himself is no longer the Truth. He has solemnly declared
to us, that for ever He would hold intercourse with His saints by the
power of the Holy Ghost. He has given us the plain assurance, "Lo, I am
with you always, even unto the end of the world (the age)." The saints of
all ages have claimed these promises, and have found them true.
But the world cannot receive the Spirit of Truth, because it seeth Him
not, neither knoweth Him. Nevertheless "_Ye_ know Him, for He dwelleth
with you, and shall be in you. I will not leave you comfortless, I will
come to you. Yet a little while _the world_ seeth Me no more; but ye see
Me: because I live ye shall live also. At that day ye shall know that I
am in My Father, and ye in Me, and I in you." And again, "He that loveth
Me shall be loved of My Father, and I will love him, and will manifest
Myself to him."
Thus in spite of delusions caused by the false teaching of the corrupted
Church, in spite of the hallucinations caused by unnatural bodily
conditions, the Lord was true to His word, and made to His servants that
revelation of His love that passeth knowledge, which marks their
testimony.
And because it passeth knowledge, and all that it is possible for the
heart of man to conceive, we recognise it as His revelation to the soul.
The God of Catholicism was a Judge, awful and terrible. Even the thought
that the righteous anger of the Father needed to be appeased by the
merciful intervention of the Son, gave place in time to the thought that
the Son also was but a righteous Judge, in whom was justice without
mercy. Therefore it was necessary that His mother should be the hope and
refuge of sinners, and that her intercession should incline His heart to
pity. And there followed in due time a host of other mediators between
God and man, to whom the sinful and the suffering should turn rather than
to the great and dreadful God.
And it was in the face of this teaching that those who knew His voice had
the absolute assurance of His immeasurable and unspeakable love. They
passed, as it were, through the host of mediators and intercessors to
cast themselves at His feet, and to wash them with their tears, and
anoint them with the love which the Holy Spirit of God had shed abroad in
their hearts.
Nor had they, as some Protestants in our days, the strange delusion that
there is a something called "religion" to which, if they turn in their
last days, they may perhaps be fit for heaven. They knew, and we know, if
we will look into our hearts, that this is not the answer to our need.
Can "religion" love us? We need love. We need a living heart who can love
us with a love utterly unchangeable and eternal. And we find it in Him
whose name is Love; in Him who is absolutely just, but who is also the
justifier of him that believeth in Jesus. "The Just God and the
Saviour"--well may it be added, "there is none besides Me." No God has
ever been invented by the thoughts of man who can be at once the Just One
and the Saviour, in whom "Mercy and Truth are met together, in whom
Righteousness and Peace have kissed each other."
We find this revelation of Himself all through the ages, and it is thus
that He is now revealed to every soul whose eyes have been opened to see
Him, whose ears have been unstopped to hear that marvellous Voice, which
is as clear and distinct to the soul now, as will be the shout, and the
voice of the Archangel, and the trumpet of God in the day that is to be.
Is it not by the teaching of God Himself, through His Word and Spirit,
that we find the solid path upon which to walk, day by day, in all
circumstances of our ordinary life? He thus becomes wisdom to the
foolish, and strength to the weak. He directs the path of those who in
all their ways acknowledge Him. We find a safer guide than our own
understanding, than the "common-sense" of the natural heart, which may
mislead, and will mislead, those who have no better teacher, as dreams
and visions misled the true-hearted servants of God in former days.
The guidance and teaching of Him who is the Wisdom of God, and who hears
and answers the prayers of those who seek Him, will assuredly not lead us
to commit acts of folly; but the common-sense will be more fully
exercised, because all existing facts will then be taken into account.
The greatest and most universal failure in common-sense must be the
leaving out of God in all our thoughts; and therefore is it written of
the natural man, not only "there is none that doeth good, no not one,"
but also, "there is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh
after God."
[1]Described in her own words in "Trees Planted by the River" (Nisbet).
[2]This pope was Gregory X.
[3]The Latin translation of Matilda's book appears to have been published
very early, as it does not contain the seventh book, probably,
therefore, considerably earlier than the year 1300. We know that the
6th and 7th Cantos of the _Purgatorio_ were written between 1308 and
1313; the 24th Canto after the year 1314. If Dante passed through
Cologne in his wanderings, as appears probable from his reference to
Cologne in the _Inferno_, xxiii. 63, he may there have seen the book.
It was, however, no doubt widely circulated before the end of the
thirteenth century. The supposition that Matilda of Hackeborn was the
origin of Dante's Matilda is disproved by the later date of the
_Mechthilden Buch_, which could scarcely have been published before
the year 1310.
[4]In his lecture on Dante's Matilda, delivered at a later period, Preger
raises the question whether the book of the Beguine is of such a
nature as to have attracted in so considerable a measure the
appreciation of a Dante. "I must here only repeat," he says, "that
which I have formerly written with regard to the spirit and poetical
power of this work, as it appears in Morel's edition. I think I may
say that amongst all the known works of this nature up to the end of
the thirteenth century, there is none that attains to the importance
of this work. Only the second part of the book of the Nun Gertrude,
written by herself, can be placed in any point of view in comparison
with it. It is evident that the Beguine Matilda was of sufficient
significance to make an impression on Dante, and to be used by him as
a type of that form of contemplation which I have described under the
name of practical mysticism."
[5]The contents of the seven books may be thus summarised:--