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Theologia Germanica
Which
setteth forth many fair Lineaments of
divine Truth, and saith very lofty and
lovely things touching a
perfect life
Edited by Dr. Peiffer
Translated by Susanna
Winkworth
Scanned by John H. Richards (jhr@elidor.demon.co.uk), March 1995
This work was discovered and published in
1516 by Martin Luther, who said of it that “Next to the Bible and St.
Augustine, no book has ever come into my hands from which I have learnt more of
God and Christ, and man and all things that are.” It has since appealed to
Christians of all persuasions.
Which
setteth forth many fair Lineaments of
divine Truth, and saith very lofty and
lovely things touching a
perfect life
EDITED BY DR. PEIFFER FROM
THE ONLY
COMPLETE MANUSCRIPT YET KNOWN
Translated from the German by
Susanna Winkworth
With a Preface by the Rev. Charles Kingsley
Rector of Eversley, and a Letter to the Translator by the
Chevalier Bunsen, D.D., D.C.L., etc.
First published as a volume of the Golden Treasury Series in 1874. New Edition 1893
Reprinted 1901, 1907
Scanned from the 1893
Golden Treasury Series edition
by John H. Richards (jhr@elidor.demon.co.uk), March 1995
Introductory material
scanned from the 1907 reprint
by Harry Plantinga (W.H.Plantinga@wheaton.edu), 1996
This electronic text is in the public domain
This work was discovered and published in
1516 by Martin Luther, who said of it that “Next to the Bible and St.
Augustine, no book has ever come into my hands from which I have learnt more of
God and Christ, and man and all things that are.” It has since appealed to
Christians of all persuasions.
STRONG Son of God, Immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen Thy face,
By faith, and faith alone embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove.
* * * * *
Thou seemest human and divine,
The highest, holiest manhood Thou;
Our wills are ours, we know not how,
Our wills are ours to make them Thine.
* * * * *
O Living Will that shalt endure,
When all that seems shall suffer shock
Rise in the spiritual Rock,
Flow through our deeds and make them pure.
* * * * *
That we may lift, from out the dust,
A voice as unto Him that hears,
A cry above the conquered years,
To one that with us works, and trust
* * * * *
With faith that comes of self‑control
The truths that never can be proved,
Until we close with all we loved
find all we flow from, soul in soul.
TENNYSON.
LETTER FROM CHEVALIER BUNSEN TO THE TRANSLATOR
THEOLOGIA GERMANICA
CHAPTER
I. Of that which is perfect and that
which is in part, and how that which is in part is done away, when that which
is perfect is come.
CHAPTER
II. Of what Sin is, and how we must not
take unto ourselves any good Thing, seeing that it belongeth unto the true Good
alone.
CHAPTER
III. How Man's Fall and going astray
must be amended as Adam's Fall was.
CHAPTER
IV. How Man, when he claimeth any good Thing for his own, falleth, and toucheth
God in His Honour.
CHAPTER
V. How we are to take that Saying, that
we must come to be without Will, Wisdom, Love, Desire, Knowledge, and the like.
CHAPTER
VI. How that which is best and noblest should also be loved above all Things by
us, merely because it is the best.
CHAPTER
VII. Of the Eyes of the Spirit wherewith Man looketh into Eternity and into
Time, and how the one is hindered of the other in its Working.
CHAPTER
VIII. How the Soul of Man, while it is
yet in the Body, may obtain a Foretaste of eternal Blessedness.
CHAPTER
IX. How it is better and more
profitable for a Man that he should perceive what God will do with him, or to
what end He will make Use of him, than if he knew all that Gad had ever
wrought, or would ever work through all the Creatures; and how Blessedness
lieth alone in God, and not in the Creatures, or in any Works.
CHAPTER
X. How the perfect Men have no other
Desire than that they may be to the Eternal Goodness what His Hand is to a Man,
and how they have lost the Fear of Hell, and Hope of Heaven.
CHAPTER
XI. How a righteous Man in this present
Time is brought into hell, and there cannot be comforted, and how he is taken
out of Hell and carried into Heaven, and there cannot be troubled.
CHAPTER
XII. Touching that true inward Peace,
which Christ left to His Disciples at the last.
CHAPTER
XIII. How a Man may cast aside Images
too soon.
CHAPTER
XIV. Of three Stages by which a Man is
led upwards till he attaineth true Perfection.
CHAPTER
XV. How all Men are dead in Adam and
are made alive again in Christ, and of true Obedience and Disobedience.
CHAPTER
XVI. Telleth us what is the old Man,
and what is the new Man.
CHAPTER
XVII. How we are not to take unto
ourselves what we have done well: but only what we have done amiss.
CHAPTER
XVIII. How that the Life of Christ is
the noblest and best Life that ever hath been or can be, and how a careless
Life of false Freedom is the worst Life that can be.
CHAPTER
XIX. How we cannot come to the true
Light and Christ's Life, by much Questioning or Reading, or by high natural
Skill and Reason, but by truly renouncing ourselves and all Things.
CHAPTER
XX. How, seeing that the Life of Christ
is most bitter to Nature and Self, Nature will have none of it, and chooseth a
false careless Life, as is most convenient to her.
CHAPTER
XXI. How a friend of Christ willingly
fulfilleth by his outward Works, such Things as must be and ought to be, and
doth not concern himself with the rest.
CHAPTER
XXII. How sometimes the Spirit of God,
and sometimes also the Evil Spirit may possess a Man and have the mastery over
him.
CHAPTER
XXIlI. He who will submit himself to
God and be obedient to Him, must be ready to bear with all Things; to wit, God,
himself, and all Creatures, and must be obedient to them all whether he have to
suffer or to do.
CHAPTER
XXIV. How that four Things are needful
before a Man can receive divine Truth and be possessed with the Spirit of God.
CHAPTER
XXV. Of two evil Fruits that do spring up from the Seed of the Evil Spirit, and
are two Sisters who love to dwell together. The one is called spiritual Pride
and Highmindedness, the other is false, lawless Freedom.
CHAPTER
XXVI. Touching Poorness of Spirit and
true Humility and whereby we may discern the true and lawful free Men whom the
Truth hath made free.
CHAPTER
XXVII. How we are to take Christ's
Words when He bade forsake all Things; and wherein the Union with the Divine
Will standeth.
CHAPTER
XXVIII. How, after a Union with the
Divine Will, the inward Man standeth immoveable, the while the outward Man is
moved hither and thither.
CHAPTER
XXIX. How a Man may not attain so high
before Death as not to be moved or touched by outward Things.
CHAPTER
XXX. On what wise we may came to be
beyond and above all Custom, Order, Law, Precepts and the like.
CHAPTER
XXXI. How we are not to cast off the
Life of Christ, but practise it diligently, and walk in it until Death
CHAPTER
XXXII. How God is a true, simple,
perfect Good, and how He is a Light and a Reason and all Virtues, and how what
is highest and best, that is, God, ought to be most loved by us.
CHAPTER
XXXIII. How when a Man is made truly
Godlike, his Love is pure and unmixed, and he loveth all Creatures, and doth
his best for them.
CHAPTER
XXXIV. How that if a Man will attain to
that which is best, he must forswear his own Will; and he who helpeth a Man to
his own Will helpeth him to the worst Thing he can.
CHAPTER
XXXV. How there is deep and true Humility and Poorness of Spirit in a Man who
is “made a Partaker of the Divine Nature.”
CHAPTER
XXXVI. How nothing is contrary to God
but Sin only; and what Sin is in Kind and Act.
CHAPTER
XXXVII. How in God, as God, there can
neither be Grief, Sorrow, Displeasure, nor the like, but how it is otherwise in
a Man who is “made a Partaker of the Divine Nature.”
CHAPTER
XXXVIII. How we are to put on the Life
of Christ from Love, and not for the sake of Reward, and how we must never grow
careless concerning it, or cast it off.
CHAPTER
XXXIX. How God will have Order, Custom,
Measure, and the like in the Creature, seeing that He cannot have them without
the Creature, and of four sorts of Men who are concerned with this Order, Law,
and Custom.
CHAPTER
XL. A good Account of the False Light
and its Kind.
CHAPTER
XLI. Now that he is to be called, and
is truly, a Partaker of the Divine Nature, who is illuminated with the Divine
Light, and inflamed with Eternal Love, and how Light and Knowledge are worth
nothing without Love.
CHAPTER
XLII. A Question: whether we can know God and not love Him, and how there are
two kinds of Light and Love -- a true and a false.
CHAPTER
XLIII. Whereby we may know a Man who is
made a partaker of the divine Nature, and what belongeth unto him; and further,
what is the token of a False Light, and a False Free-Thinker.
CHAPTER
XLIV. How nothing is contrary to God
but Self-will and how he who seeketh his own Good for his own sake, findeth it
not; and how a Man of himself neither knoweth nor can do any good Thing.
CHAPTER
XLV. How that where there is a
Christian Life, Christ dwelleth, and how Christ's Life is the best and most
admirable Life that ever hath been or can be.
CHAPTER
XLVI. How entire Satisfaction and true
Rest are to be found in God alone, and not in any Creature; and how he who Will
be obedient unto God, must also be obedient to the Creatures, with all
Quietness, and he who would love God, must love all Things in One.
CHAPTER
XLVII. A Question: Whether, if we ought
to love all Things, we ought to love Sin also?
CHAPTER
XLVIII. How we must believe certain Things
of God's Truth beforehand, ere we can come to a true Knowledge and Experience
thereof.
CHAPTER
XLIX. Of Self-will, and how Lucifer and
Adam fell away from God through Self-will.
CHAPTER
L. How this present Time is a Paradise
and outer Court of Heaven, and how therein there is only one Tree forbidden,
that is, Self-will.
CHAPTER
LI. Wherefore God hath created
Self-will, seeing that it is so contrary to Him.
CHAPTER
LII. How we must take those two Sayings
of Christ: “No Man cometh unto the Father, but by Me,” and “No Man cometh unto
Me, except the Father which hath sent Me draw him.”
CHAPTER
LIII. Considereth that other saying of
Christ, “No Man can come unto Me, except the Father, which hath sent Me, draw
him.”
CHAPTER
LIV. How a Man shall not seek his own,
either in Things spiritual or natural but the Honour of God only; and how he
must enter in by the right Door, to wit, by Christ, into Eternal Life.
TO those who really hunger
and thirst after righteousness; and who therefore long to know what
righteousness is, that they may copy it: To those who long to be freed, not
merely from the punishment of sin after they die, but from sin itself while
they live on earth; and who therefore wish to know what sin is, that they may
avoid it: To those who wish to be really justified by faith, by being made just
persons by faith; and who cannot satisfy either their consciences or reasons by
fancying that God looks on them as right, when they know themselves to be
wrong, or that the God of truth will stoop to fictions (miscalled forensic)
which would be considered false and unjust in any human court of law: To those
who cannot help trusting that union with Christ must be something real and
substantial, and not merely a metaphor, and a flower of rhetoric: To those,
lastly, who cannot help seeing that the doctrine of Christ in every man, as the
Indwelling Word of God, The Light who lights every one who comes into the world,
is no peculiar tenet of the Quakers, but one which runs through the whole of
the Old and New Testaments, and without which they would both be
unintelligible, just as the same doctrine runs through the whole history of the
Early Church for the first two centuries, and is the only explanation of them;
To all these this noble little book will recommend
itself; and may God bless the reading of it to them, and to all others no less.
As for its orthodoxy; to “evangelical” Christians
Martin Luther's own words ought to be sufficient warrant. For he has said that
he owed more to this, than to any other book, saving the Bible and Saint
Augustine. Those, on the other hand, to whom Luther's name does not seem a
sufficient guarantee, must recollect, that the Author of this book was a knight
of the Teutonic order; one who considered himself, and was considered, as far
as we know, by his contemporaries, an orthodox member of the Latin Church; that
his friends and disciples were principally monks exercising a great influence
in the Catholic Church of their days; that one of their leaders was appointed
by Pope John XXII. Nuncio and overseer of the Dominican order in Germany; and
that during the hundred and seventy years which elapsed between the writing of
this book and the Reformation, it incurred no ecclesiastical censure
whatsoever, in generations which were but too fond of making men offenders for
a word.
Not that I agree with all which is to be found in this book. It is for its noble views of righteousness and of sin that I honour it, and rejoice at seeing it published in English, now for the first time from an edition based on the perfect manuscript. But even in those points in which I should like to see it altered, I am well aware that there are strong authorities against me. The very expression, for instance, which most startles me, “vergottet,” deified or made divine, is used, word for word, both by Saint Athanase and Saint Augustine, the former of whom has said: “He became man, that we might be made God;”
[1] and the latter, “He called men Gods, as being deified by His grace, not as born of His substance.”[2] There are many passages, moreover, in the Epistles of the Apostles, which, if we paraphrase them at all, we can hardly paraphrase in weaker words. It seems to me safer and wiser to cling to the letter of Scripture: but God forbid that I should wish to make such a man as the Author of the Theologia Germanica an offender for a word!One point more may be worthy of remark. In many
obscure passages of this book, words are used, both by the Author and by the
Translator, in their strict, original, and scientific meaning, as they are used
in the Creeds, and not in that meaning which has of late crept into our very
pulpits, under the influence of Locke's philosophy. When, for instance, it is
said that God is the Substance of all things; this expression, in the
vulgar Lockite sense of substance, would mean that God is the matter or stuff
of which all things are made; which would be the grossest Pantheism: but
“Substance” in the true and ancient meaning of the word, as it appears in the
Athanasian Creed, signifies the very opposite; namely, that which stands
under the appearance and the matter; that by virtue of which a thing has
its form, its life, its real existence, as far as it may have any; and thus in
asserting that God is the substance of all things, this book means that
everything (except sin, which is no thing, but the disease and fall of a thing)
is a thought of God.
So again with Eternity. It will be found in this
book to mean not merely some future endless duration, but that ever‑present
moral world, governed by ever-living and absolutely necessary laws, in which we
and all spirits are now; and in which we should be equally, whether time and
space, extension and duration, and the whole material universe to which they
belong, became nothing this moment, or lasted endlessly.
I think it necessary to give these cautions, because
by the light of Locke's philosophy, little or nothing will be discerned in this
book, and what little is discerned will probably be utterly misunderstood. If
any man wishes to see clearly what is herein written, let him try to forget all
popular modern dogmas and systems, all popular philosophies (falsely so
called), and be true to the letter of his Bible, and to the instincts which the
Indwelling Word of God was wont to awaken in his heart, while he was yet a
little unsophisticated child; and then let him be sure that he will find in
this book germs of wider and deeper wisdom than its good author ever dreamed
of; and that those great spiritual laws, which the Author only applies, and
that often inconsistently, to an ascetic and passively contemplative life, will
hold just as good in the family, in the market, in the senate, in the study,
ay, in the battlefield itself; and teach him the way to lead, in whatsoever
station of life he may be placed, a truly manlike, because a truly Christlike
and Godlike, life.
CHARLES
KINGSLEY.
Torquay,
Lent,
1854.
BY THE
TRANSLATOR
THE Treatise before us was
discovered by Luther, who first brought it into notice by an Edition of it
which he published in 1516. A Second Edition, which came out two years later,
he introduced with the following Preface: --
“We read that St. Paul, though he was of a weak and
contemptible presence, yet wrote weighty and powerful letters, and he boasts of
himself that his 'speech is not with enticing words of man's device,' but 'full
of the riches of all knowledge and wisdom.' And if we consider the wondrous
ways of God, it is clear, that He hath never chosen mighty and eloquent
preachers to speak His word, but as it is written: 'Out of the mouths of babes
and sucklings hast thou perfected praise,' Ps. 8:2. And again, 'For wisdom
opened the mouth of the dumb, and made the tongues of them that cannot speak
eloquent,' Wisdom 10:21. Again, He blameth such as are high‑minded and
are offended at these simple ones. Consilium inopis, etc. 'Ye have made
a mock at the counsel of the poor, because he putteth his trust in the Lord,'
Ps. 14:6.
“This I say because I will have every one warned who
readeth this little book, that he should not take offence, to his own hurt, at
its bad German, or its crabbed and uncouth words. For this noble book, though
it be poor and rude in words, is so much the richer and more precious in
knowledge and divine wisdom. And I will say, though it be boasting of myself
and 'I speak as a fool,' that next to the Bible and St. Augustine, no book hath
ever come into my hands, whence I have learnt, or would wish to learn more of
what God, and Christ, and man and all things are; and now I first find the
truth of what certain of the learned have said in scorn of us theologians of
Wittemberg, that we would be thought to put forward new things, as though there
had never been men elsewhere and before our time. Yea, verily, there have been
men, but God's wrath, provoked by our sins, hath not judged us worthy to see
and hear them; for it is well known that for a long time past such things have
not been treated of in our universities; nay, it has gone so far, that the Holy
Word of God is not only laid on the shelf, but is almost mouldered away with
dust and moths. Let as many as will, read this little book, and then say
whether Theology is a new or an old thing among us; for this book is not new.
But if they say as before, that we are but German theologians, we will not deny
it. I thank God, that I have heard and found my God in the German tongue, as
neither I nor they have yet found Him in the Latin, Greek, or Hebrew tongue.
God grant that this book may be spread abroad, then we shall find that the
German theologians are without doubt the best theologians.
(Signed, without date,)
“Dr.
MARTIN LUTHER,
AUGUSTINIAN
of Wittemberg.
These words of Luther will probably be considered to
form a sufficient justification for an attempt to present the Theologia
Germanica in an English dress. When Luther sent it forth, its effort to
revive the consciousness of spiritual life was received with enthusiasm by his
fellow‑countrymen, in whom that life was then breaking with volcanic
energy through the clods of formalism and hypocrisy, with which the Romish
Church had sought to stifle its fires. No fewer than seventeen editions of the
work appeared during the lifetime of Luther. Up to the present day, it has
continued to be a favourite handbook of devotion in Germany, where it has
passed through certainly as many as sixty Editions, and it has also been widely
circulated in France and the Netherlands, by means of Latin, French, and
Flemish translations.
To the question, who was the author of a book which
has exerted so great an influence? no answer can be given, all the various
endeavours to discover him having proved fruitless. Till within the last few
years, Luther was our sole authority for the text of the work, but, about 1850,
a manuscript of it was discovered at Wurtzburg, by Professor Reuss, the
librarian of the University there, which has since been published verbatim by
Professor Pfeiffer of Prague. This Manuscript dates from 1497; consequently it
is somewhat older than Luther's time, and it also contains some passages not
found in his editions. As, upon careful comparison, it seemed to the translator
indisputably superior to the best modern editions based upon Luther's, it has
been selected as the groundwork of the present translation, merely correcting
from the former, one or two passages which appeared to contain errors of the
press, or more likely of the transcriber's pen. The passages not found in
Luther's edition are here enclosed between brackets.
As has been stated, the author of the Theologia
Germanica is unknown; but it is evident from his whole cast of
thought, as well as from a Preface attached to the Wurtzburg Manuscript, that
he belonged to a class of men who sprang up in Southern Germany at the
beginning of the fourteenth century, and who were distinguished for their
earnest piety and their practical belief in the presence of the Spirit of God
with all Christians, laity as well as clergy.
These men had fallen upon evil times. Their age was
not indeed one of those periods in which the vigour of the nobler powers of the
soul is enfeebled by the abundance of material prosperity and physical
enjoyment, nor yet one of those in which they are utterly crushed out under the
hoof of oppression and misery; but it was an age in which conflicting elements
were wildly struggling for the mastery. The highest spiritual and temporal
authorities were at deadly strife with each other and among themselves; and in
their contests, there were few provinces or towns that did not repeatedly
suffer the horrors of war. The desolation caused by its ravages was however
speedily repaired during the intervals of peace, by the extraordinary energy
which the German nation displayed in that bloom of its manhood; so that times
of deep misery and great prosperity rapidly alternated with each other. But on
the whole, during the first half of this century, the sense of the calamities,
which were continually recurring, predominated over the recollection of the
calmer years, which were barely sufficient to allow breathing time between the
successive waves that threatened to overwhelm social order and happiness.
The unquestioning faith and honest enthusiasm which
had prompted the Crusades, no longer burnt with the same fierce ardour, for the
unhappy issue of those sacred enterprises, and the scandalous worldly ambition
of the heads of the Church, had moderated its fervour and saddened the hearts
of true believers. Yet the one Catholic, Christian creed still held an
undivided and very real sovereignty over men's minds, and the supremacy of the
Church in things spiritual was never questioned, though many were beginning to
feel that it was needful for the State to have an independent authority in
things temporal, and the question was warmly agitated how much of the spiritual
authority resided in the Pope and how much in the bishops and doctors of the
Church. But in whichever way the dispute between these rival claims might be
adjusted, the reverence for the office of the clergy remained
unimpaired. The case was very different with the reverence for their persons,
which had fallen to a very low ebb, owing to the worldliness and immorality
of their lives. This again was much encouraged by the conduct of the Popes,
who, in their zeal to establish worldly dominion, made ecclesiastical
appointments rather with a view to gain political adherents, or to acquire
wealth by the sale of benefices, than with a regard to the fitness of the men
selected, or the welfare of the people committed to their charge.
On the whole, it was an age of faith, though by no
means of a blind, unreasoning taking things for granted. On the contrary, the
evidences of extreme activity of mind meet us on every hand, in the monuments
of its literature, architecture, and invention. A few facts strikingly
illustrate the divergent tendencies of thought and public opinion. Thus we may
remember, how it was currently reported that the profligate Pope Boniface VIII.
was privately an unbeliever, even deriding the idea of the immortality of the
soul, at the very time when he was maintaining against Philip the Fair, the
right of the Pope to sit, as Christ's representative, in judgment on the living
and the dead, and to take the sword of temporal power out of the hands of those
who misused it.[3] Whether this
accusation was true or not, it is a remarkable sign of the times that it should
have been widely believed.
Some years later, and when the increased corruptness
of the clergy, after the removal of the Papal Court to Avignon, provoked still
louder complaints, we see the religious and patriotic Emperor, Louis IV.,
accusing John XXII. of heresy, in a public assembly held in the square of St.
Peter's at Rome, and setting up another Pope “in order to please the Roman
people.” But though the new Pope was every way fitted, by his unblemished
character and ascetic manners, to gain a hold on public esteem, we see that the
Emperor could not maintain him against the legitimately elected Pope, who, from
his seat at Avignon, had power to harass the Emperor so greatly with his
interdicts, that the latter, finding all efforts at conciliation fruitless,
would have bought peace by unconditional submission, had not the Estates of the
Empire refused to yield to such humiliation. Yet we find this very Pope obliged
to yield and retract his opinions on a point of dogmatic theology. He had in a
certain treatise propounded the opinion that the souls of the pious would not
be admitted to the immediate vision of the Deity until after the day of
judgment. The King of France, in 1333, called an assembly of Prelates and
theologians at his palace at Vincennes, where he invited them to discuss before
him the two questions, whether the souls of departed saints would be admitted
to an immediate vision of the Deity before the resurrection; and whether, if
so, their vision would be of the same or of a different kind after the Judgment
Day? The theological faculty having come to conclusions differing in some
respects from those of the Pope, the King threatened the latter with the stake
as a heretic, unless he retracted; and John XXII. issued a bull, declaring that
what he had said or written, ought only to be received in so far as it agreed
with the Catholic Faith, the Church and Holy Scripture. No circumstance,
perhaps, offers a more remarkable spectacle to us in its contrast with the
spirit of our own times. At the present moment, when the Pope could not sit for
a day in safety on his temporal throne without the defence of French or
Austrian bayonets, we can scarcely conceive an Emperor of France or Austria
taking upon himself to convene an assembly of Catholic theologians, and the
latter pronouncing a censure on the dogmas propounded by the Head of the
Church! It would be hard to say whether the Sovereigns of the present day would
be more amused by the absurdity of devoting their time to such discussions, or
the consciences of good Catholics more shocked at the presumption of such a
verdict.
Still it must not be forgotten that the importance
of religious affairs in that age must not be ascribed too exclusively to
earnestness about religion itself, for the ecclesiastical interest predominated
over the purely religious. The Pope and the Emperor represented the two great
antagonistic powers, spiritual and temporal, the rivalry between which absorbed
into itself all the political and social questions that could then be agitated.
The question of allegiance to the Pope or the Emperor was like the contest
between royalism and republicanism; the Ghibelline called himself a patriot,
and was called by his adversary, the Guelf, a worldly man or even an infidel,
while he retorted by calling the Guelf a betrayer of his country, and an enemy
of national liberties.
We cannot help seeing, however, that in those days
both princes and people, wicked as their lives often were, did really believe
in the Christian religion, and that while much of the mythological and much of
the formalistic element mingled in their zeal for outward observances, there
was also much thoroughly sincere enthusiasm among them. But both the two great
powers oppressed the people, which looked alternately to the one side or the
other for emancipation from the particular grievances felt to be most galling
at any given moment or place. In the frightful moral and physical condition of
society, it was no wonder that a despair of Providence should have begun to
attack some minds, which led to materialistic scepticism, while others sought
for help on the path of wild speculation. The latter appears to have been the
case with the Beghards or “Brothers and Sisters of the Free Spirit,” who
attempted to institute a reform by withdrawing the people altogether from the
influence of the clergy, but whose followers after a time too often fell into
the vices of the priests from whom they had separated themselves. In 1317, we
find the Bishop of Ochsenstein complaining that Alsace was filled with these
Beghards, who appear to have been a kind of antinomian pantheists, teaching
that the Spirit is bound by no law, and annihilating the distinction between
the Creator and the creature. Both in their excellences and defects they remind
us of the modern “German Catholics,” and of some, too, of the recent Protestant
schools in Germany. There seems to have been no party of professed unbelievers,
but that some individuals were such in word as well as deed, appears from what
Ruysbroch of Brussels,[4]
(1300-1330) says of those “who live in mortal sin, not troubling themselves
about God or His grace, but thinking virtue sheer nonsense, and the spiritual
life hypocrisy or delusion; and hearing with disgust all mention of God or
virtue, for they are persuaded that there is no such thing as God, or Heaven,
or Hell; for they acknowledge nothing but what is palpable to the senses.”
The early part of the fourteenth century saw Germany
divided for nine years between the rival claims of two Emperors, Frederick of
Austria, supported by Pope John XXII. and a faction in Germany, and Louis of
Bavaria, whose cause was espoused by a majority of the princes of the Empire,
as that of the defender of the dignity and independence of the State, and the
champion of reform within the Church. The death of Frederick, in 1322, left
Louis the undisputed Emperor, as far as nearly all his subjects were concerned,
and he would fain have purchased peace with the Pope on any reasonable terms,
that he might apply himself to the internal improvement of his dominions; but
John XXII. was implacable, and continued to wage against him and his adherents
a deadly warfare, not closed until his successor Charles IV. submitted to all
the papal demands, and to every indignity imposed upon him.
One of the most fearful consequences of the enmity
between John XXII. and Louis of Bavaria, to the unfortunate subjects of the
latter, was the Interdict under which his dominions were laid in 1324, and from
which some places, distinguished for their loyalty to the Emperor, were not
relieved for six‑and-twenty years. Louis, indeed, desired his subjects to
pay no regard to the bull of excommunication, and most of the laity, especially
of the larger towns, would gladly have obeyed him in spite of the Pope; but the
greater part of the bishops and clergy held with their spiritual head, and thus
the inhabitants of Strasburg, Nuremberg, and other cities, where the civil
authorities sided with the Emperor, and the clergy with the Pope, were left
year after year without any religious privileges; for public worship ceased,
and all the business of life went on without the benedictions of the Church, no
rite being allowed but baptism and extreme unction.
After this had lasted sixteen years, the Emperor,
wishing to relieve the anguished consciences of his people, issued, in
conjunction with the Princes of the Empire, a great manifesto to all
Christendom, refuting the Pope's accusations against him, maintaining that he who
had been legally chosen by the Electors was, in virtue thereof, the rightful
Emperor, and had received his dignity from God, and proclaiming that all who
denied this were guilty of high treason; that therefore none should be allowed
any longer to observe the Interdict, and all who should continue to do so,
whether communities or individuals, should be deprived of every civil and
ecclesiastical right and privilege. This courageous edict found a response in
the heart of the nation, and public opinion continually declared itself more
strongly on the side of the Emperor. Yet on the whole it rather increased the
general anarchy; for in many places the priests and monks were steadfast in
their allegiance to the Pope, and, refusing to administer public service, were
altogether banished from the towns, and the churches and convents closed. In
Strasburg, for instance, where the regular clergy had long since ceased to
perform religious rites, the Dominicans and Franciscans had continued to preach
and perform mass; but now they too, frightened by the Edict, which placed them
in direct opposition to the Pope, dared no longer to disregard the renewed
sentence of excommunication hanging over them, and refusing to read mass, were
expelled by the Town Council. Many of these banished clergy wandered about in
great distress, with difficulty finding refuge among the scattered rural
population, and the sufferings they endured proved the sincerity of their
conscientious scruples. Some few, either from worldly motives, or out of pity
for the people, remained at their posts. The former indeed throve by the
miseries of their fellow‑creatures, driving a usurious trade in the
famine of spiritual consolation; for it is upon record, that in time of
pestilence, the price of shrift has been as much as sixty florins!
The spectacle of such discord between the clergy and
the laity was something unspeakably shocking to the Christian world in that
age, and the energetic proceedings of the magistracy must have utterly
staggered the faith of many. Of all the events that were stirring up men's
passions and energies, none was more calculated to move their souls to the very
centre, than to find themselves compelled to stand up in arms against those
whom they had been wont to bow down before, and to reverence as the source of
those spiritual blessings, for the sake of which they were now driven in
desperation to take this awful step.
To these political and religious dissensions were
added, in process of time, other miseries. After it had been preceded by
earthquakes, hurricanes and famine, the Black Death broke out, spreading terror
and desolation through Southern Europe. Men saw in these frightful calamities
the judgments of God, but looked in vain for any to show them a way of
deliverance and escape. Some believed that the last day was approaching; some,
remembering an old prophecy, looked with hope for the return of the Great
Emperor Frederick II. to restore justice and peace in the world, to punish the
wicked clergy, and help the poor and oppressed flock to their rights. Others
traversed the country in processions, scourging themselves and praying with a
loud voice, in order to atone for their sins and appease God's anger, and
inveighing against man's unbelief, which had called down God's wrath upon the
earth; while some thought to do God service, by wreaking vengeance on the
people which had slain the Lord, and thousands of wretched Jews perished in the
flames kindled by frantic terror. “All things worked together to deepen the
sense of the corruptness of the Church, to lead men's thoughts onwards from
their physical to their spiritual wants, to awaken reflection on the judgments
of God, and to fix their eyes on the indications of the future,''[5]
so that John of Winterthur was probably not alone in applying to his own times
what St. Paul says of the perils of the latter days.
In these chaotic times, and in the countries where
the storms raged most fiercely, there were some who sought that peace which
could not be found on earth, in intercourse with a higher world. Destitute of
help and comfort and guidance from man, they took refuge in God, and finding
that to them He had proved “a present help ill time of trouble,” “as the shadow
of a great rock in a weary land,” they tried to bring their fellow‑men to
believe and partake in a life raised above the troubles of this world. They
desired to show them that that Eternal life and enduring peace which Christ had
promised to His disciples, was, of a truth, to be found by the Way which He had
pointed out, -- by a living union with Him and the Father who had sent Him.
With this aim, like-minded men and women joined
themselves together, that by communion of heart and mutual counsel they might
strengthen each other in their common efforts to revive the spiritual life of
those around them. The Association they founded was kept secret, lest through
misconception of their principles, they might fall under suspicion of heresy,
and the Inquisition should put a stop to their labours; but they desired to
keep themselves aloof from every thing that savoured of heresy or disorder. On
the contrary, they carefully observed all the precepts of the Church, and
carried their obedience so far that many of their number were among the priests
who were banished for obeying the Pope, when the Emperor ordered them to
disregard the Interdict. They assumed the appellation of “Friends of God” (Gottesfreunde),
and, in the course of a few years, their associations extended along the
Rhine provinces from Basle to Cologne, and eastwards through Swabia, Bavaria,
and Franconia. Strasburg, Constance, Nuremberg and Nordlingen were among their
chief seats. Their distinguishing doctrines were self‑renunciation, --
the complete giving‑up of self‑will to the will of God; -- the
continuous activity of the Spirit of God in all believers, and the intimate
union possible between God and man; -- the worthlessness of all religion based
upon fear or the hope of reward; -- and the essential equality of the laity and
clergy, though, for the sake of order and discipline, the organization of the
Church was necessary. They often appealed to the declaration of Christ (John
15:15), “Henceforth I call you not servants; for the servant knoweth not what
his lord doeth; but I have called you friends; for all things that I have heard
of my Father I have made known unto you;” and from this they probably derived
their name of “Friends of God.” Their mode of action was simply personal, for
they made no attempt to gain political and hierarchical power, but exerted all
their influence by means of preaching, writing and social intercourse. The
Association counted among its members priests, monks, and laity, without
distinction of rank or sex. Its leaders stood likewise in close connection with
several convents, especially those of Engenthal, and Maria-Medingen near
Nuremberg, presided over by the sisters Christina and Margaret Ebner, much of
whose correspondence is still extant. Agnes, the widow of King Andrew of
Hungary, and various knights and burghers, are also named as belonging to it.
Foremost among the leaders of this party should be
mentioned the celebrated Tauler, a Dominican monk of Strasburg, who spent his
life in preaching and teaching up and down the country from Strasburg to Cologne,
and whose influence is to this day active among his countrymen by means of his
admirable sermons, which are still widely read. At the time of the Interdict he
wrote a noble appeal to the clergy not to forsake their flocks, maintaining
that if the Emperor had sinned, the blame lay with him only, not with his
wretched subjects, so that it was a crying shame to visit his guilt upon the
innocent people, but that their unjust oppression would be recompensed to them
by God hereafter. He acted up to his own principles, and when the Black Death
was raging in Strasburg, where it carried off 16,000 victims, he was unwearied
in his efforts to administer aid and consolation to the sick and dying.
Much of Tauler's religious fervour and light he
himself attributed to the instructions of a layman, his friend. It is now known
from contemporary records that this was Nicholas of Basle, a citizen of that
Free town and a secret Waldensian. Little is known of his life beyond the fact
that he was intimately connected with many of the heads of this party, and was
resorted to by them for guidance and help; for, being under suspicion of
heresy, he had to conceal all his movements from the Inquisition. He succeeded,
however, in carrying on his labours and eluding his enemies, until he reached
an advanced age; but at length, venturing alone and unprotected into France, he
was taken, and burnt at Vienne in 1382. Another friend of Tauler's, and like
him an eloquent and powerful preacher, whose sermons are still read with
delight, was Henry Suso, a Dominican monk, belonging to a knightly family in
Swabia.
One of the leaders of the “Friends of God,” Nicholas
of Strasburg, was in 1326 appointed by John XXII. nuncio, with the oversight of
the Dominican order throughout Germany, and dedicated to that Pope an Essay of
great learning and ability, refuting the prevalent interpretations of
Scripture, which referred the coming of Antichrist and the Judgment day to the
immediate future. Thus we see that the “Friends of God” were not confined to one
political party, and this likewise appears from the history of another
celebrated member of this sect, Henry of Nordlingen, a priest of Constance,
who, like Suso, was banished for his adherence to the Pope. One of the most
remarkable men of this sect was a layman and married, Rulman Merswin, belonging
to a high family at Strasburg. He appears to have been led to a religious life
by the influence of Tauler, who was his confessor. He is the author of several
mystical works which, he says, he wrote “to do good to his fellow creatures,”
but he contributed perhaps still more largely to their benefit by his activity
in charitable works, for he established one hospital and seems to have had the
oversight of others also. He likewise gave largely to churches and convents,
but is best known by having founded a house for the Knights of St. John in
Strasburg. The characteristic doctrines of the “Friends of God” have already
been indicated. That they should not have fallen into some exaggerations was
scarcely possible, but where they have done so, it may generally be traced to
the influence of the monastic life to which most of them were dedicated, and to
the perplexities of their age.
The book before us was probably written somewhere
about I350, since it refers to Tauler as already well known. It was the
practice of the “Friends of God” to conceal their names as much as possible
when they wrote, lest a desire for fame should mingle with their endeavours to
be useful. This is probably the reason why we have no indication of its
authorship beyond a preface, which the Wurtzburg Manuscript possesses in common
with that which was in Luther's hands, and from which it appears that the
writer “was of the Teutonic order, a priest and a warden in the house of the
Teutonic order in Frankfort.” A translation of this Preface is prefixed to the
present volume. Till the discovery of the Wurtzburg Manuscript, it was supposed
that this Preface was from Luther's hand, who merely embodied in it the
tradition which he had received from some source unknown to us; and hence,
some, disregarding its authority, have ascribed the Theologia Germanica to
Tauler, whose style it resembles so much that it might be taken for his work,
but for the reference to him already mentioned. Since, however, the antiquity
of the Preface is now proved, we must be content with the information which it
affords us, unless any further discoveries among old manuscripts should throw
fresh light upon the subject.
Should this attempt to introduce the writings of the
“Friends of God” in England awaken an interest in them and their works, the
Translator proposes to follow up the present volume with an account of Tauler
and selections from his writings; believing that the study of these German
theologians, who were already called old in Luther's age, would furnish the
best antidote to what of mischief English readers may have derived from German
theology, falsely so called.
Manchester, February 1854.
77 Marina, St. Leonard's-on-Sea,
11th May 1854.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
YOUR Letter and the
proof-sheets of your Translation of the Theologia Germanica, with
Kingsley's Preface and your Introduction, were delivered to me yesterday, as I
was leaving Carlton Terrace to breathe once more, for a few days, the
refreshing air of this quiet, lovely place. You told me, at the time, that you
had been led to study Tauler and the Theologia Germanica by some
conversations which we had on their subjects in 1851, and you now wish me to
state to your readers, in a few lines, what place I conceive this school of
Germanic theology to hold in the general development of Christian thought, and
what appears to me to be the bearing of this work in particular upon the
present dangers and prospects of Christianity, as well as upon the eternal
interests of religion in the heart of every man and woman.
In complying willingly with your request, I may
begin by saying that, with Luther, I rank this short treatise next to the
Bible, but, unlike him, should place it before rather than after St. Augustine.
That school of pious, learned, and profound men of which this book is, as it
were, the popular catechism, was the Germanic counterpart of Romanic
scholasticism, and more than the revival of that Latin theology which produced
so many eminent thinkers, from Augustine, its father, to Thomas Aquinas, its
last great genius, whose death did not take place until after the birth of
Dante, who again was the contemporary of the Socrates of the Rhenish school, --
Meister Eckart, the Dominican.
The theology of this school was the first protest of
the Germanic mind against the Judaism and formalism of the Byzantine and
mediaeval Churches, -- the hollowness of science to which scholasticism had
led, and the rottenness of society which a pompous hierarchy strove in vain to
conceal, but had not the power nor the will to correct. Eckart and Tauler, his
pupil, brought religion home from fruitless speculation, and reasonings upon
imaginary or impossible suppositions, to man's own heart and to the
understanding of the common people, as Socrates did the Greek philosophy. There
is both a remarkable analogy and a striking contrast between the great Athenian
and those Dominican friars. Socrates did full justice to the deep ethical ideas
embodied in the established religion of his country and its venerated
mysteries, which he far preferred to the shallow philosophy of the sophists;
but he dissuaded his pupils from seeking an initiation into the mysteries, or
at least from resting their convictions and hopes upon them, exhorting them to
rely, not upon the oracles of Delphi, but upon the oracle in their own bosom.
The “Friends of God,” on the other hand, believing (like Dante) most profoundly
in the truth of the Christian religion, on which the established Church of
their age, notwithstanding its corruptions, was essentially founded,
recommended submission to the ordinances of the church as a wholesome
preparatory discipline for many minds. Like the saint of Athens, however, they
spoke plain truth to the people. To their disciples, and those who came to them
for instruction, they exhibited the whole depth of that real Christian
philosophy, which opens to the mind after all scholastic conventionalism has
been thrown away, and the soul listens to the response which Christ's Gospel
and God's creation find in a sincere heart and a self-sacrificing life; -- a
philosophy which, considered merely as a speculation, is far more profound than
any scholastic system. But, in a style that was intelligible to all, they
preached that no fulfilment of rites and ceremonies, nor of so‑called
religious duties, -- in fact, no outward works, however meritorious, can either
give peace to man's conscience, nor yet give him strength to bear up against
the temptations of prosperity and the trials of adversity.
In following this course they brought the people
back from hollow profession and real despair, to the blessings of gospel
religion, while they opened to philosophic minds a new career of thought. By
teaching that man is justified by ' faith, and by faith alone, they prepared
the popular intellectual element of the Reformation; by teaching that this
faith has its philosophy, as fully able to carry conviction to the
understanding, as faith is to give peace to the troubled conscience, they paved
the way for that spiritual philosophy of the mind, of which Kant laid the
foundation. But they were not controversialists, as the Reformers of the
sixteenth century were driven to be by their position, and not men of science
exclusively, as the masters of modern philosophy in Germany were and are.
Although most of them friars, or laymen connected with the religious orders of
the time, they were men of the people and men of action. They preached the
saving faith to the people in churches, in hospitals, in the streets and public
places. In the strength of this faith, Tauler, when he had been already for
years the universal object of admiration as a theologian and preacher through
all the free cities on the Rhine, from Basle to Cologne, humbled himself, and
remained silent for the space of two years, after the mysterious layman had
shown him the insufficiency of his scholastic learning and preaching. In the
strength of this faith, he braved the Pope's Interdict, and gave the
consolations of religion to the people of Strasburg, during the dreadful plague
which depopulated that flourishing city. For this faith, Eckart suffered with
patience slander and persecution, as formerly he had borne with meekness,
honours and praise. For this faith, Nicolaus of Basle, who sat down as a humble
stranger at Tauler's feet to become the instrument of his real enlightenment,
died a martyr in the flames. In this sense, the “Friends of God” were, like the
Apostles, men of the people and practical Christians, while as men of thought,
their ideas contributed powerfully to the great efforts of the European nations
in the sixteenth century.
Let me, therefore, my dear friend, lay aside all
philosophical and theological terms, and state the principle of the golden book
which you are just presenting to the English public, in what I consider, with
Luther, the best Theological exponent, in plain Teutonic, thus: --
Sin is selfishness:
Godliness is unselfishness:
A godly life is the steadfast working out of
inward freeness from self:
To become thus Godlike is the bringing back
of man's first nature.
On this last point, -- man's divine dignity and
destiny, -- Tauler speaks as strongly as our author, and almost as strongly as
the Bible. Man is indeed to him God's own image. “As a sculptor,” he says
somewhere, with a striking range of mind for a monk of the fourteenth century,
“is said to have exclaimed indignantly on seeing a rude block of marble, 'what
a godlike beauty thou hidest!' thus God looks upon man in whom God's own image
is hidden.” “We may begin,” he says in a kindred passage, “by loving God in
hope of reward, we may express ourselves concerning Him in symbols (Bilder),
but we must throw them all away, and much more we must scorn all idea of
reward, that we may love God only because He is the Supreme Good, and
contemplate His eternal nature as the real substance of our own soul.”
But let no one imagine that these men, although
doomed to passiveness in many respects, thought a contemplative or monkish life
a condition of spiritual Christianity, and not rather a danger to it. “If a man
truly loves God,” says Tauler, “and has no will but to do God's will, the whole
force of the river Rhine may run at him and will not disturb him or break his
peace; if we find outward things a danger and disturbance, it comes from our
appropriating to ourselves what is God's.” But Tauler, as well as our Author,
uses the strongest language to express his horror of Sin, man's own creation,
and their view on this subject forms their great contrast to the philosophers
of the Spinozistic school. Among the Reformers, Luther stands nearest to them,
with respect to the great fundamental points of theological teaching, but their
intense dread of Sin as a rebellion against God, is shared both by Luther and
Calvin. Among later theologians, Julius Muller, in his profound Essay on Sin,
and Richard Rothe, in his great work on Christian Ethics, come nearest to them
in depth of thought and ethical earnestness, and the first of these eminent
writers carries out, as it appears to me, most consistently that fundamental
truth of the Theologia Germanica that there is no sin but Selfishness,
and that all Selfishness is sin.
Such appear to me to be the characteristics of our
book and of Tauler. I may be allowed to add, that this small but golden
Treatise has been now for almost forty years an unspeakable comfort to me and
to many Christian friends (most of whom have already departed in peace), to
whom I had the happiness of introducing it. May it in your admirably faithful
and lucid translation become a real “book for the million” in England, a
privilege which it already shares in Germany with Tauler's matchless Sermons,
of which I rejoice to hear that you are making a selection for publication. May
it become a blessing to many a longing Christian heart in that dear country of
yours, which I am on the point of leaving, after many happy years of residence,
but on which I can never look as a strange land to me, any more than I shall
ever consider myself as a stranger in that home of old Teutonic liberty and
energy, which I have found to be also the home of practical Christianity and of
warm and faithful affection.
Bunsen.
Of that which is perfect and that which is in
part, and how that which is in part is done away, when that which is perfect is
come.
St. Paul saith, “When that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.”
[6] Now mark what is “that which is perfect,” and “that which is in part.”“That which is perfect” is a Being, who hath
comprehended and included all things in Himself and His own Substance, and
without whom, and beside whom, there is no true Substance, and in whom all
things have their Substance. For He is the Substance of all things, and is in
Himself unchangeable and immoveable, and changeth and moveth all things else.
But “that which is in part,” or the Imperfect, is that which hath its source
in, or springeth from the Perfect; just as a brightness or a visible appearance
floweth out from the sun or a candle, and appeareth to be somewhat, this or
that. And it is called a creature; and of all these “things which are in part,”
none is the Perfect. So also the Perfect is none of the things which are in
part. The things which are in part can be apprehended, known, and expressed;
but the Perfect cannot be apprehended, known, or expressed by any creature as
creature. Therefore we do not give a name to the Perfect, for it is none of
these. The creature as creature cannot know nor apprehend it, name nor conceive
it.
“Now when that which is Perfect is come, then that
which is in part shall be done away.” But when doth it come? I say, when as
much as may be, it is known, felt and tasted of the soul. For the lack lieth
altogether in us, and not in it. In like manner the sun lighteth the whole
world, and is as near to one as another, yet a blind man seeth it not; but the
fault thereof lieth in the blind man, not in the sun. And like as the sun may
not hide its brightness, but must give light unto the earth (for heaven indeed
draweth its light and heat from another fountain), so also God, who is the
highest Good, willeth not to hide Himself from any, wheresoever He findeth a
devout soul, that is thoroughly purified from all creatures. For in what
measure we put off the creature, in the same measure are we able to put on the
Creator; neither more nor less. For if mine eye is to see anything, it must be
single, or else be purified from all other things; and where heat and light
enter in, cold and darkness must needs depart; it cannot be otherwise.
But one might say, “Now since the Perfect cannot be
known nor apprehended of any creature, but the soul is a creature, how can it
be known by the soul?” Answer: This is why we say, “by the soul as a creature.”
We mean it is impossible to the creature in virtue of its creature-nature and
qualities, that by which it saith “I” and “myself.” For in whatsoever creature
the Perfect shall be known, therein creature-nature, qualities, the I, the Self
and the like, must all be lost and done away. This is the meaning of that
saying of St. Paul: “When that which is perfect is come” (that is, when it is
known), “then that which is in part” (to wit, creature-nature, qualities, the
I, the Self, the Mine) will be despised and counted for nought. So long as we
think much of these things, cleave to them with love, joy, pleasure or desire,
so long remaineth the Perfect unknown to us.
But it might further be said, “Thou sayest, beside
the Perfect there is no Substance, yet sayest again that somewhat floweth out
from it: now is not that which hath flowed out from it, something beside it.”
Answer: This is why we say, beside it, or without it, there is no true
Substance. That which hath flowed forth from it, is no true Substance, and hath
no Substance except in the Perfect, but is an accident, or a brightness, or a
visible appearance, which is no Substance, and hath no Substance except in the
fire whence the brightness flowed forth, such as the sun or a candle.
Of what Sin is, and how we must not take unto
ourselves any good Thing, seeing that it belongeth unto the true Good alone.
The
Scripture and the Faith and the Truth say, Sin is nought else, but that the
creature turneth away from the unchangeable Good and betaketh itself to the changeable;
that is to say, that it turneth away from the Perfect to “that which is in
part” and imperfect, and most often to itself. Now mark: when the creature
claimeth for its own anything good, such as Substance, Life, Knowledge, Power,
and in short whatever we should call good, as if it were that, or possessed
that, or that were itself, or that proceeded from it, -- as often as this
cometh to pass, the creature goeth astray. What did the devil do else, or what
was his going astray and his fall else, but that he claimed for himself to be
also somewhat, and would have it that somewhat was his, and somewhat was due to
him? This setting up of a claim and his I and Me and Mine, these were his going
astray, and his fall. And thus it is to this day.
How Man's Fall and going
astray must be amended as Adam's Fall was.
What
else did Adam do but this same thing? It is said, it was because Adam ate the
apple that he was lost, or fell. I say, it was because of his claiming
something for his own, and because of his I, Mine, Me, and the like. Had he
eaten seven apples, and yet never claimed anything for his own, he would not
have fallen: but as soon as he called something his own, he fell, and would
have fallen if he had never touched an apple. Behold! I have fallen a hundred
times more often and deeply, and gone a hundred times farther astray than Adam;
and not all mankind could mend his fall, or bring him back from going astray.
But how shall my fall be amended? It must be healed as Adam's fall was healed,
and on the self-same wise. By whom, and on what wise was that healing brought
to pass? Mark this: man could not without God, and God should not without man.
Wherefore God took human nature or manhood upon Himself and was made man, and
man was made divine. Thus the healing was brought to pass. So also must my fall
be healed. I cannot do the work without God, and God may not or will not
without me; for if it shall be accomplished, in me, too, God must be made man;
in such sort that God must take to Himself all that is in me, within and
without, so that there may be nothing in me which striveth against God or
hindereth His Work. Now if God took to Himself all men that are in the world,
or ever were, and were made man in them, and they were made divine in Him, and
this work were not fulfilled in me, my fall and my wandering would never be
amended except it were fulfilled in me also. And in this bringing back and
healing, I can, or may, or shall do nothing of myself, but just simply yield to
God, so that He alone may do all things in me and work, and I may suffer Him
and all His work and His divine will. And because I will not do so, but I count
myself to be my own, and say “I,” “Mine,” “Me” and the like, God is hindered,
so that He cannot do His work in me alone and without hindrance; for this cause
my fall and my going astray remain unhealed. Behold! this all cometh of my
claiming somewhat for my own.
How Man, when he claimeth any good Thing for
his own, falleth, and toucheth God in His Honour.
God
saith, “I will not give My glory to another.”[7]
This is as much as to say, that praise and honour and glory belong to none but
to God only. But now, if I call any good thing my own, as if I were it, or of
myself had power or did or knew anything, or as if anything were mine or of me,
or belonged to me, or were due to me or the like, I take unto myself somewhat
of honour and glory, and do two evil things: First, I fall and go astray as
aforesaid: Secondly, I touch God in His honour and take unto myself what
belongeth to God only. For all that must be called good belongeth to none but
to the true eternal Goodness which is God only, and whoso taketh it unto
himself, committeth unrighteousness and is against God.
How we are to take that Saying, that we must
come to be without Will, Wisdom, Love, Desire, Knowledge, and the like.
Certain
men say that we ought to be without will, wisdom, love, desire, knowledge, and
the like. Hereby is not to be understood that there is to be no knowledge in
man, and that God is not to be loved by him, nor desired and longed for, nor
praised and honoured; for that were a great loss, and man were like the beasts
and as the brutes that have no reason. But it meaneth that man's knowledge
should be so clear and perfect that he should acknowledge of a truth that in
himself he neither hath nor can do any good thing, and that none of his
knowledge, wisdom and art, his will, love and good works do come from himself,
nor are of man, nor of any creature, but that all these are of the eternal God,
from whom they all proceed. As Christ Himself saith, “Without Me, ye can do
nothing.”[8]
St. Paul saith also, “What hast thou that thou hast not received?”[9]
As much as to say -- nothing. “Now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou
glory as if thou hadst not received it?” Again he saith, “Not that we are
sufficient of ourselves to think anything as of ourselves, but our sufficiency
is of God.”[10] Now when a
man duly perceiveth these things in himself, he and the creature fall behind,
and he doth not call anything his own, and the less he taketh this knowledge
unto himself, the more perfect doth it become. So also is it with the will, and
love and desire, and the like. For the less we call these things our own, the
more perfect and noble and Godlike do they become, and the more we think them
our own, the baser and less pure and perfect do they become.
Behold on this sort must we cast all things from us,
and strip ourselves of them; we must refrain from claiming anything for our
own. When we do this, we shall have the best, fullest, clearest and noblest
knowledge that a man can have, and also the noblest and purest love, will and
desire; for then these will be all of God alone. It is much better that they
should be God's than the creature's. Now that I ascribe anything good to
myself, as if I were, or had done, or knew, or could perform any good thing, or
that it were mine, this is all of sin and folly. For if the truth were rightly known
by me, I should also know that I am not that good thing and that it is not
mine, nor of me, and that I do not know it, and cannot do it, and the like. If
this came to pass, I should needs cease to call anything my own.
It is better that God, or His works, should be
known, as far as it be possible to us, and loved, praised and honoured, and the
like, and even that man should vainly imagine he loveth or praiseth God, than
that God should be altogether unpraised, unloved, unhonoured and unknown. For
when the vain imagination and ignorance are turned into an understanding and
knowledge of the truth, the claiming anything for our own will cease of itself.
Then the man says: “Behold! I, poor fool that I was, imagined it was I, but
behold! it is and was, of a truth, God!”
How that which is best and noblest should
also be loved above all Things by us, merely because it is the best.
A
Master called Boetius saith, “It is of sin that we do not love that which is
Best.” He hath spoken the truth. That which is best should be the dearest of
all things to us; and in our love of it, neither helpfulness nor unhelpfulness,
advantage nor injury, gain nor loss, honour nor dishonour, praise nor blame,
nor anything of the kind should be regarded; but what is in truth the noblest
and best of all things, should be also the dearest of all things, and that for
no other cause than that it is the noblest and best.
Hereby may a man order his life within and without.
His outward life: for among the creatures one is better than another, according
as the Eternal Good manifesteth itself and worketh more in one than in another.
Now that creature in which the Eternal Good most manifesteth itself, shineth
forth, worketh, is most known and loved, is the best, and that wherein the
Eternal Good is least manifested is the least good of all creatures. Therefore
when we have to do with the creatures and hold converse with them, and take
note of their diverse qualities, the best creatures must always be the dearest
to us, and we must cleave to them, and unite ourselves to them, above all to
those which we attribute to God as belonging to Him or divine, such as wisdom,
truth, kindness, peace, love, justice, and the like. Hereby shall we order our
outward man, and all that is contrary to these virtues we must eschew and flee
from.
But if our inward man were to make a leap and spring
into the Perfect, we should find and taste how that the Perfect is without
measure, number or end, better and nobler than all which is imperfect and in
part, and the Eternal above the temporal or perishable, and the fountain and
source above all that floweth or can ever flow from it. Thus that which is
imperfect and in part would become tasteless and be as nothing to us. Be
assured of this: All that we have said must come to pass if we are to love that
which is noblest, highest and best.
Of the Eyes of the Spirit wherewith Man
looketh into Eternity and into Time, and how the one is hindered of the other
in its Working.
Let
us remember how it is written and said that the soul of Christ had two eyes, a
right and a left eye. In the beginning, when the soul of Christ was created,
she fixed her right eye upon eternity and the Godhead, and remained in the full
intuition and enjoyment of the divine Essence and Eternal Perfection; and
continued thus unmoved and undisturbed by all the accidents and travail,
suffering, torment and pain that ever befell the outward man. But with the left
eye she beheld the creature and perceived all things therein, and took note of
the difference between the creatures, which were better or worse, nobler or
meaner; and thereafter was the outward man of Christ ordered.
Thus the inner man of Christ, according to the right
eye of His soul, stood in the full exercise of His divine nature, in perfect
blessedness, joy and eternal peace. But the outward man and the left eye of
Christ's soul, stood with Him in perfect suffering, in all tribulation,
affliction and travail; and this in such sort that the inward and right eye
remained unmoved, unhindered and untouched by all the travail, suffering, grief
and anguish that ever befell the outward man. It hath been said that when
Christ was bound to the pillar and scourged, and when He hung upon the cross,
according to the outward man, yet His inner man, or soul according to the right
eye, stood in as full possession of divine joy and blessedness as it did after
His ascension, or as it doth now. In like manner His outward man, or soul with
the left eye, was never hindered, disturbed or troubled by the inward eye in
its contemplation of the outward things that belonged to it.
Now the created soul of man hath also two eyes. The
one is the power of seeing into eternity, the other of seeing into time and the
creatures, of perceiving how they differ from each other as afore-said, of
giving life and needful things to the body, and ordering and governing it for
the best. But these two eyes of the soul of man cannot both perform their work
at once; but if the soul shall see with the right eye into eternity, then the
left eye must close itself and refrain from working, and be as though it were
dead.
For if the left eye be fulfilling its office toward
outward things; that is, holding converse with time and the creatures; then
must the right eye be hindered in its working; that is, in its contemplation.
Therefore whosoever will have the one must let the other go; for “no man can
serve two masters.”
How the Soul of Man, while it is yet in the
Body, may obtain a Foretaste of eternal Blessedness.