DISTINCTION BETWEEN EXTERIOR AND INTERIOR ACTIONS--THOSE OF THE SOUL IN
THIS CONDITION ARE INTERIOR, BUT HABITUAL, CONTINUED, DIRECT, PROFOUND,
SIMPLE, AND IMPERCEPTIBLE--BEING A CONTINUAL SINKING IN THE OCEAN OF
DIVINITY--SIMILITUDE OF A VESSEL--HOW TO ACT IN THE ABSENCE OF SENSIBLE
SUPPORTS.
The actions of men are either exterior or interior. The _exterior_ are
those which appear outwardly, and have a sensible object, possessing
neither good nor evil qualities, excepting as they receive them from the
interior principle in which they originate. It is not of these that I
intend to speak, but only of interior actions, which are those actions
of the soul by which it _applies itself_ inwardly to some object, or
_turns away_ from some other.
When, being applied to God, I desire to commit an action of a different
nature from those which He would prompt, I turn away from God, and I
turn towards created things more or less according to the strength or
weakness of my action. If, being turned towards the creature, I wish to
return to God, I must commit the action of turning away from the
creature, and turning towards God; and thus the more perfect is this
action, the more complete will be the conversion.
Until I am perfectly converted, I need several actions to turn me
towards God. Some are done all at once, others gradually; but my action
ought to lead me to turn to God, employing all the strength of my soul
for Him, as it is written, "Therefore even now, saith the Lord, turn ye
even to me with all your heart" (Joel ii. 12). "Thou shalt return unto
the Lord thy God ... with all thine heart and with all thy soul" (Deut.
xxx. 2). God only asks for our heart: "My son, give me thy heart, and
let thine eyes observe my ways" (Prov. xxiii. 26). To give the heart to
God is to have its gaze, its strength, and its vigour all centred in
Him, to follow His will. We must, then, after we have applied to God,
remain always turned towards Him.
But as the mind of man is weak, and the soul, being accustomed to turn
towards earthly things, is easily turned away from God, it must, as soon
as it perceives that it is turned towards outward things, resume its
former position in God by a simple act of return to Him.
And as several repeated acts form a habit, the soul contracts a habit of
conversion, and from action it passes to a habitual condition.
The soul, then, must not seek by means of any efforts or works of its
own to come near to God; this is seeking to perform one action by means
of others, instead of by a simple action remaining attached to God
alone.
If we believe that we must commit no actions, we are mistaken, for _we
are always acting_; but each one must act according to his degree.
I will endeavour to make this point clear, as, for want of understanding
it, it presents a difficulty to many Christians.
There are _passing_ and _distinct_ actions, and _continued_ actions;
_direct_ acts and _reflected_ acts. All cannot perform the first, and
all are not in a condition to perform the others. The first actions
should be committed by those who are turned away from God. They ought to
turn to Him by a distinct action, more or less strong according to their
distance from Him.
By a _continued_ action I understand that by which the soul is
completely turned towards its God by a _direct_ action, which it does
not renew, unless it has been interrupted, but which exists. The soul
being altogether turned in this way, is in love, and remains there: "And
he that dwelleth in love, dwelleth in God" (1 John iv. 16). Then the
soul may be said to be in a habitual act, resting even in this action.
But its rest is not idle, for it has an action _always in force_, viz.,
_a gentle sinking in God_, in which God attracts it more and more
strongly; and, following this attraction, and resting in love, it sinks
more and more in this love, and has an action infinitely stronger, more
vigorous, and more prompt, than that action which forms only the return.
Now the soul which is in this _profound and strong action_, being turned
towards its God, does not perceive this action, because it is direct,
and not reflex; so that persons in this condition, not knowing how
rightly to describe it, say that _they have no action_. But they are
mistaken; they were never more active. It would be better to say they do
not distinguish any action, than that they do not commit any.
The soul does not act of itself, I admit; but it is drawn, and it
follows the attracting power. Love is the weight which sinks it, as a
person who falls in the sea sinks, and would sink to infinity if the sea
were infinite; and without perceiving its sinking, it would sink to the
most profound depths with an incredible speed. It is, then, incorrect to
say that no actions are committed. All commit actions, but all do not
commit them in the same manner; and the abuse arises from the fact, that
those who know that action is inevitable wish it to be _distinct_ and
_sensible_. But sensible action is for beginners, and the other for
those more advanced. To stop with the first would be to deprive
ourselves of the last; and to wish to commit the last before having
passed the first would be an equal abuse.
Everything must be done in its season; each state has its commencement,
its progress, and its end. There is no act which has not its beginning.
At first we must work with _effort_, but afterwards we enjoy the fruit
of our labour.
When a vessel is in the harbour, the sailors have a difficulty in
bringing it into the open sea; but once there, they easily turn it in
the direction in which they wish to navigate. So, when the soul is in
sin, it needs an effort to drag it out; the cords which bind it must be
loosened; then, by means of strong and vigorous action, it must be drawn
within itself, little by little leaving the harbour, and being turned
within, which is the place to which its voyage should be directed.
When the vessel is thus turned, in proportion as it advances in the sea,
it leaves the land behind it, and the further it goes from the land, the
less effort is needed to carry it along. At last it begins to sail
gently, and the vessel goes on so rapidly that the oars become useless.
What does the pilot do then? He is contented with spreading the sails
and sitting at the helm.
_Spreading the sails_ is simply laying ourselves before God, to be
moved by His Spirit. _Sitting at the helm_ is preventing our heart from
leaving the right way, rowing it gently, and leading it according to the
movement of the Spirit of God, who gradually takes possession of it, as
the wind gradually fills the sails, and impels the vessel forward. So
long as the vessel sails before the wind, the mariners rest from their
labour. They voyage farther in an hour, while they rest in this manner
and leave the ship to be carried along by the wind, than they would in a
much longer time by their own efforts; and if they wished to row,
besides the fatigue which would result from it, their labour would be
useless, and would only serve to retard the vessel.
This is the conduct we should pursue in our inner life, and in acting
thus we shall advance more in a short time by the Divine guidance, than
we ever could do by our own efforts. If only you will try this way, you
will find it the easiest possible.
When the wind is contrary, if the wind and the tempest are violent, the
anchor must be thrown in the sea to stop the vessel. This _anchor_ is
trust in God and hope in His goodness, waiting in patience for the
tempest to cease, and for a favourable wind to return, as David did:
"I waited patiently for the Lord," he says, "and He inclined unto me"
(Ps. xl. 1).