Part 3
and let me be for ever with You.
O You beloved Lord Jesus Christ, You Eternal God, one with the Eternal Father, think on me. I thank You, Lord, for the grace of Your Atonement, wherewith You have touched the depths of my heart, and pierced me through with the power of Your love. But when You touch my heart with Your awful, Your holy tenderness, which flows through soul and body, I fear lest I, who am so unworthy of You, should be overwhelmed with the blessedness of Your love.
Therefore I turn at times to pray for others more than for myself, and withdraw myself, as it were, from the fulness of the joy, through love to You and Christian faithfulness. For I fear the rising up within my heart of the pride which cast down the most glorious of the angels of heaven, and the voice of the serpent who deceived Eve with the promise of vainglory.
I pray, O my God, that in continual love I may receive and enjoy the gifts You give. I ask for the fulness of Your love, that shame and pain and bitterness may be sweet to me, and that I may desire Your will and not mine, and that the fire of my love may burn in me to all eternity.
Of the Good Works of Men, how They Shine by the Work of the Lord.
How it is that the works of godly men shall shine and glow in the glory of heaven, understand from these words.
Wherein we were innocent of aught, in this our innocence, the pure holiness of God shines and glows. In so far that we laboured in good works, the holy working of God shines forth. In so far as we cleave to God with trustful hearts, the tenderness and faithfulness of God shines brightly. In so far as we receive our sorrows thankfully, the sufferings of Christ shine forth. In so far as we wrought diligently in holy graces, does the holy grace of God shine and glow in manifold brightness to all eternity. And as here we loved, and as here we shed forth the light of a holy life, in
this does the love of God burn and shine, more and more to the perfect eternal day.
For all that shone forth from us was the light of the eternal Godhead. The good works we did were given to us through the holy Manhood of the Son of God, and we wrought them by the power of the Holy Spirit. Thus all our works, our love, our sufferings, flow back to where they came from, from the Three in One, to His eternal praise.
The Soul that Loves Speaks to her Lord.
If the world were mine and all its store, And were it of crystal gold; Could I reign on its throne for evermore, From the ancient days of old, An empress noble and fair as day, O gladly might it be, That I might cast it all away, Christ, only Christ for me. For Christ my Lord my spirit longs, For Christ, my Saviour dear; The joy and sweetness of my songs, The whilst I wander here. O Lord, my spirit longs to flee From the lonely wilderness to You.
Seven Things known to the Longing of Love.
I bring to Your grace a sevenfold praise, Your wondrous love I bless - I praise, remembering my sinful days, My worthlessness. I praise that I am waiting, Lord, for You, When, all my wanderings past, Yourself will bear me, and will welcome me To home at last. I praise You that for You I long and pine,
For You I ever yearn; I praise You that such fitful love as mine You do not spurn; I praise You for the hour when first I saw The glory of Your Face, Here dimly, but in fulness evermore, In that high place; I praise You for a mystery unnamed, Unuttered here below, Unspeakable in words the lips have framed, Yet passing sweet to know. It is the still, the everlasting tide, The stream of Love Divine, That from the heart of God for evermore Flows into mine. To that deep joy that binds heart to heart In one eternal love, A still small stream that flows unseen below, An endless sea above, To that high love, that fathomless delight, No thought of man may reach; And yet behind it is a sevenfold bliss, Most holy of God's holy mysteries, told in speech. Faith only has beheld that secret place, Faith only knows how great, how high, how fair The Temple where the Lord unveils His Face To His belovèd there. O how unfading is the pure delight, How full the joy of that exhaustless tide Which flows for ever in its glorious might, So still, so wide; And deep we drink with sweet, eternal thirst, With lips for ever eager as at first, Yet ever satisfied.
Of a Sin that is Worse than all Other Sins.
I have heard men speak of a sin, and I thank God that I have not known it, for it seems to me, and it is, more sinful than all other sins, for it is the height of unbelief. I grieve over it with body and soul, and with all my five senses, from the depth of my heart, and I thank the living Son of God that into my heart it never came.
This sin did not have its source in Christian people, but the vile enemy of God has by means of it deceived the simple. For, led by him, they would fain be so holy as to enter into the depths of the eternal Godhead, and to sound the secret abyss of the eternal sacred Manhood of the Lord. If thus they became blinded with pride, they bring themselves under the eternal curse. They would attain to a holiness which is reached by mocking at the written Word of God, which speaks to us of the Manhood of our Lord.
You poorest of the poor! if you indeed knew and confessed truly the eternal God, then you would also confess of necessity the eternal Manhood that dwells in the Godhead, and you would of necessity confess the Holy Spirit, who enlightens the heart of the Christian, who is the source of all his blessedness and joy, and who teaches the mind of man far better than all other teachers, and leads us to confess in humility what He has taught us to know of the perfection of God.
How Love was seen with her Handmaidens - A Parable.
In the night I spoke thus to our Lord, "Lord, I live in a land that is called Misery; it is this evil world, for all that is in it cannot comfort me, nor give me joy unmixed with sorrow. In this land I have a house, which is called Painful. It is the house in which my soul lives, namely, my body. This house is old, and small, and dark. In this house I have a bed, which is called Unrest, for all things are a grief to me which have not to do with God. Near this bed I have a chair, called Discomfort, wherein I hear of sins committed by others in which I had no part. Before this chair I have a table, that is called Distress, for I am grieved to find so few spiritual people. On this table lies a clean tablecloth, which is called Poverty, that has much good in it, and if it were rightly used it would be dear to those
who use it. On this table my food is placed for me; it is called the Bitterness of sin, and Willing suffering. The drink is called 'Scanty Praise,' because, alas! I have far too few good works to be remembered."
All this I saw as it were dimly in my soul. And then was the true Love of God revealed to me. She stood before me as a noble and royal maiden, of stately presence, fair, and with the roses of her youth, and around her stood many maidens, who were the graces of the Spirit, and they were come to be my handmaidens if I desired to have them as mine, for they were willing to serve me. They wore crowns brighter than shining gold, and their clothing was of green sendal.
And as I beheld her my dark house was lighted up, so that I could see all that was in it, and all that happened there. And I knew the damsel well, for she had often been my dear companion, and her face was familiar to me. But as I have written of her often in this book, I will not speak of her further.
Then said I to her, "O beloved damsel, that are a thousandfold higher than I am, yet you serve me with honour and reverence, as if I were greater than an empress."
And she said, "When I saw that it was your desire to renounce earthly things I desired to be your constant handmaiden, for I was seeking those who from the love of God turned away from the things on earth."
And I said, "Beloved damsel, so long have you served me, I would gladly give you for your service all that I have or might have on the earth."
She answered, "I have gathered up your gift, and will restore it to you at last with glory and honour."
Then said I, "Lady, I know not what more to give but myself."
"And that," she said, "I have long desired, and now at last you have given me my desire...."
The parable proceeds to relate the service of each handmaiden bestowed by Love on 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 you dear Love of God, I thank You that You have 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 to 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 Spirit, 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 stands still, but flows 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, You are full of grace, and therewith You fill us. But You are great, and we are small, how then can we receive what You give? Lord, whilst You give to us, it is for us to give to others. Truly our vessel that You have 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 what 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 what He gave. Our Lord suffered for us to 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, 'You should do in your last days as in your first days. Love and longing, repentance and fear, these four things were the beginning of your 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, 'Your faith becomes knowledge, and your 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 often 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 your 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 dawns the last day These weary eyes shall see, Come as a father to his darling child, And take me home to You."
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 on her.
"Thus does a beggar woman speak in her prayers to God - Lord, I thank You that since in Your love You have taken from me all earthly riches, You now feed and clothe 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 You that since You have taken away the power of sight from my eyes, You have appointed other eyes to serve me. Lord, I thank You that since You have taken the strength from my hands, You serve me with other hands. Lord, I thank You that since You have taken away the strength of my heart, You serve me now by the hearts of strangers. Lord, I pray You reward them here on earth with Your divine love, and grant to them to serve You 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 will you fly To the hills of the glorious land on high, To Christ your eternal love? Thank Him for me, though vile I be, That His grace for me has 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,
You, soul and I.
Then the Soul makes answer.
I thank you that you on the pilgrim road Have been my comrade true; Often were you a weary load, Yet did you bear me through. When the Day shall come that is to dawn Shall all your 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 you 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 mediæval facts, we are met instead by a relation of visions and dreams. Matilda von Hackeborn tells us no more than how she saw in a vision the departure of the soul of her namesake.
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 on the written Word of God, that she was one of those of whom the Lord Jesus said, "I will love him, and will show 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 on 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 what the "Friends of God" had experienced, all might have been well. But, alas! the weight was shifted to the other side, and what 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 Spirit, 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 Béguine 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 on 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 passes 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 divinæ 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 what 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 You of Your free grace gave me clearer light in the knowledge of Yourself, and You led me on by the alluring sweetness of Your love and kindness. I was more attracted by Your love, than I could have been driven by the punishment which, on the part of Your 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 what 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 has perfected for ever those who 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 on 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 take 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 on 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 given to 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 You!" 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 on herself as belonging to Him, and, consequently, instead of mortifying her body, she looked on 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 on 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 what she was unwilling to do, rather than what 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 on 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, "Listen! By virtue of My authority, receive perfect and full forgiveness of all your 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 give to My creatures? Have you 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 on whom I have had mercy, pouring forth on 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 on 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." So when she had the assurance of knowing the will of God, she acted 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, You have for Your inseparable companions Justice and Equity. In number, measure, and weight Your judgment stands firm. What You weigh, You weigh in a perfect balance. Woe is me, a thousandfold woe, if I fall into Your hands and there should be found no substitute to take my place.
"O Love Divine, You will provide the substitute. You will answer for me. You will undertake my cause, that I may live because of You.
"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) Your Son Jesus was brought to judgment. You laid on Him the sin of the whole world, on 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 Your 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 Your gift, O my loving God, to me.
"O blessed Truth, to come before You without my Jesus would be my fear and terror, but to come with Him is joy and gladness. O Truth, now may You sit down on the judgment-seat and bring against me what You wilt. I fear nothing. I know - I know that Your 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 You 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, You will appear before the judgment-seat for me. By Your side do I stand there. You the Judge, and You the Substitute also. Then will You recount what You became for love of me, how tenderly You have loved me, how dearly You have bought me, that I through You might be righteous before God.
"You have betrothed me to Yourself; how could I be lost? You have borne my sins. You have died, that to all eternity I might never die. All that is Your You have freely given me, that I through Your deserving might be rich. Even so, in the hour of death, I shall be judged according to that innocence, according to that purity, which You have freely given me, when You paid the whole debt for me by giving Yourself. You were 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 Your, and mine through You."
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 Spirit 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 eyesalve 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 to 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 on us than on 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 works 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 on 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 gives 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 You not understand what I say? because You cannot hear My word." There is, then, a hearing of which the unbelieving man is incapable. "He that is of God hears God's words. You therefore hear them not, because You are not of God." Thus there are those who "hear and do not understand, and see but do not perceive." 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? 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 Spirit. He has given us the plain assurance, "Lo, I am with you always, even to 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 neither sees Him nor knows Him. Nevertheless " You know Him, for He dwells with you, and shall be in you. I will not leave you comfortless, I will come to
you. Yet a little while the world sees Me no more; but You see Me: because I live You shall live also. At that day You shall know that I am in My Father, and You in Me, and I in you." And again, "He that loves 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 passes knowledge, which marks their testimony.
And because it passes 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 believes 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 on 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 does good, no not one," but also, "there is none that understands, there is none that seeks after God."
Matilda the Béguine's own words relating to the death of a friend may better describe her own -
"He laid him down on the breast of God In measureless delight, Enfolded in the tenderness told, The sweetness infinite."