Upon the words: Israel, forget Me not. Isa. 44:21.
The Twenty-Seventh Letter.
Upon the words: Israel, forget Me not. Isa. 44:21.
Beloved brother!
I desire heartily to greet you and the other brethren of our acquaintance in the name of Jesus, and to wish you all true well-being.
Even now I open the Bible for you, and find Isa. 44:21: Israel, forget Me not. I make no difficulty of writing this to you in simplicity — as indeed all that I write this time shall be. When I otherwise speak or write now and then, a scruple comes into my thoughts: whether I might not perhaps be coaxing a friend's devotion away from God's own speaking, or His working in the inward part, against my own aim. But here there is no such danger. These words are a precious little keepsake-saying, and an outward echo of that which resounds unceasingly in our inward part, could we but grow attentive and still to the lovely voice of the Bridegroom.
What a privilege and grace, to be mindful of God and never to forget Him! What is it, then, that I am now minding? Is it God? No, it is something else. But is that Something Else, then, more essential, better, fairer, more delightful, and so forth, than God? Is it worth that I should forget God on its account? Ah! the very contrary; it is a shadow, a nothing, yea, a thing hideous, transient, plaguing, and corrupting; and for the sake of such a thing I forget God — my Origin, the sole, eternal, and wholly satisfying Object. What folly! "But," [say you,] "I am minding something good." You do well; but why not the Best? — the highest Good, the only Good, the present Good, that wills to impart itself, even in this very moment, and speaks so kindly to you: Israel, forget Me not! Ah, Lord! do Thou speak it, and do Thou work it, in our hearts!
Oh, to forget all else outright — to know but God, and God alone, whose goodness, measureless and vast, makes still the heart, and calm, and clean.
Amen! beloved brother! take my simplicity in writing in good part. I write sometimes to myself, when it seems I write to others.
German
Der siebenundzwanzigste Brief.
Ueber die Worte: Israel, vergiß mein nicht. Jes. 44, 21.
Lieber Bruder!
Ich begehre dich und die übrigen bekannten Brüder im Namen JEsu herzlich zu grüßen, und euch alles wahre Wohlseyn zu wünschen.
— Opening lines of the original German. The complete transcription of all 605 letters appears in the forthcoming Encounter Press critical edition; Brief 1 is shown in full as a sample.
German text: public domain (1773–75 first edition / 1845 Gesammelte Schriften).
Translator’s notes
What this letter is. A short, intimate letter that begins by chance: Tersteegen "opens the Bible" for his friend and lands on Isaiah's words, "Israel, forget me not." Usually, he confesses, he hesitates to write, "lest I coax a friend's devotion away from God's own speaking"; but here there's no such danger, for these words are "a precious little keepsake-saying," an "outward echo" of what "resounds unceasingly in our inward part" if we could only grow "attentive and still to the lovely voice of the Bridegroom." Then he turns the verse into a searching self-examination. "What a privilege… to be mindful of God and never to forget him!" — and yet, "what is it that I am now minding? Is it God? No, it is something else." Is that something "more essential, better, fairer… than God"? No — "it is a shadow, a nothing," and for its sake "I forget God, my Origin, the sole, eternal, and wholly satisfying Object. What folly!" Even to mind "something good," he says, is not enough — "why not the Best?" the "present Good, that wills to impart itself, even in this very moment," and says so kindly, "Israel, forget me not!" He closes with a two-line verse and a disarming admission: "I write sometimes to myself, when it seems I write to others."
A few words and echoes.
- Israel, forget me not. The whole letter grows from this verse of Isaiah, which Tersteegen turns from God's promise ("thou shalt not be forgotten of me") into God's tender plea to the soul.
- The voice of the Bridegroom. Scripture, for him, is an "outward echo" of an inner voice — Christ the "Bridegroom" speaking "unceasingly" within, if we grow still enough to hear.
- A shadow, a nothing. His self-examination: whatever we let crowd God out is, weighed against him, only "a shadow, a nothing… transient, plaguing" — and to prefer it is "folly."
- Not the good, but the Best. His fine point: it is not enough to mind "something good"; God is "the highest Good, the only Good, the present Good," and deserves the whole of our remembering.
- God as our "Object." When he calls God the "wholly satisfying Object," he uses the word in its old sense — the End on which the mind is set — not "reproach."
- I write to myself. His humble closing confession: these are not lofty instructions from above but words he needs as much as his reader — "I write sometimes to myself, when it seems I write to others."
trans. Jarred Fenlason · gerhardtersteegen.com/letters/bdi-thi-027 · all rights reservedEnglish translation © Jarred Fenlason · All rights reserved · gerhardtersteegen.com.