Of the all-ness of God and the nothingness of the creature.
The Fifty-first Letter.
Of the all-ness of God and the nothingness of the creature.
Dear brothers and friends!
—— O my dear friends and fellow-pilgrims, how inconstant, unsatisfying, and null — yea, more than null — is not everything that can come before us in this world and time apart from God! Men call the visible things a dream, a passing shadow; our life, a handbreadth; and say that it is a matter of but a little, and we are gone; and much more of the kind. But ah! we are so accustomed to such expressions that we scarcely once think upon the weight of their meaning, or pause over it: therefore I could wish at times to have new words and expressions, duly to impress upon myself and others the nothingness of this time and of all temporal things.
Yet even the most emphatic expressions of it could scarcely be called a shadow in comparison of that which the soul perceives of it when she finds herself in an inward beholding of the weightiness of the Eternal and of the all-ness of God: there all creatures vanish wholly, and everything enclosed in time is, for its smallness, seen no more. Ah! how appallingly then do the children of Adam rave, and what has blinded us, that we let ourselves be mis-formed and bound by vanities? We gaze, we marvel, we sink ourselves deep in things that are not; and Him who is, we leave out of regard. He is near us; He is our life; He is our element and everlasting well-being and glory; He offers Himself to us the whole day: and ah! we do not so much as open our mouth, that we might enjoy Him, and we feed on wind — yea, on a poisoned air. O that we were wise, and walked in the light which dawns upon inward-turned hearts! Yet you know it already, dear friends and brothers! better than I, wretched man. Wisdom's discipline will teach you how you must enter ever further into the seclusion and estrangement from the visible, so as to follow the Lamb as true pilgrims; and how you must shun all specious distractions, so as to cleave unhindered to the Lord and to enjoy His divine life and peace. Abide by that which the anointing teaches you, for then it is truth; and in the same mind remember me also, who would gladly come along too. I greet and embrace you all, though I name none, in the spirit, and wish you the best.
German
Der einundfünfzigste Brief.
Von der Allheit GOttes und der Nichtigkeit der Kreatur.
Liebe Brüder und Freunde!
—— O meine lieben Freunde und Mitpilger, wie so unbeständig, unvergnügend und nichtig, ja mehr als nichtig, ist nicht alles, was uns in dieser Welt und Zeit außer GOtt vorkommen mag!
— 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 circular letter to a circle of "dear brothers and friends" — "fellow-pilgrims" — rather than to any single person. Its theme is one of Tersteegen's most characteristic: the all-ness of God set against the nothingness of everything else. He opens with a cry over how "inconstant, unsatisfying, and null — yea, more than null — is… everything that can come before us in this world and time apart from God." We say such things by rote, he admits — "men call the visible things a dream, a passing shadow; our life, a handbreadth" — but "we scarcely once think upon the weight of their meaning"; he could wish for "new words… duly to impress… the nothingness of this time." Yet even the strongest words, he says, are "scarcely a shadow" of what the soul sees "when she finds herself in an inward beholding of the weightiness of the Eternal and of the all-ness of God" — for then "all creatures vanish wholly." His lament is that we do the reverse: "we gaze, we marvel, we sink ourselves deep in things that are not; and Him who is, we leave out of regard." And this despite God's nearness — "He is our life… He offers Himself to us the whole day" — while "we do not so much as open our mouth… and we feed on wind." The letter closes pastorally: he longs that "we were wise, and walked in the light," commends the brethren to enter "the seclusion and estrangement from the visible" so as "to follow the Lamb as true pilgrims," and to "abide by that which the anointing teaches you, for then it is truth." He ends embracing them all "in the spirit, though I name none," asking to be remembered as one "who would gladly come along too."
A few words and echoes.
- All-ness and nothingness. The letter's title-contrast is the purest statement of Tersteegen's mysticism: God as the one true reality (Allheit), and everything temporal, apart from Him, as "more than null." Not that creatures are evil, but that measured against the Eternal they are vanishingly small.
- Him who is. His sharpest phrase — that we chase "things that are not" while "Him who is, we leave out of regard" — leans on the divine name given to Moses, "I AM THAT I AM" (Exodus 3:14). God is the one who simply is; all else merely seems.
- He offers Himself all day. As in Brief 46, he pictures God with "His hand stretched out all day" (Isaiah 65:2), constantly on offer — the tragedy being not divine absence but our refusal to "open our mouth," an echo of the psalm's "open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it" (Psalm 81:10).
- Feeding on wind. His image for a life spent on "things that are not" — that "we feed on wind" — borrows Hosea's rebuke, "Ephraim feedeth on wind" (Hosea 12:1): endless consumption that never nourishes.
- Follow the Lamb; abide by the anointing. The closing counsel gathers two New Testament images — following "the Lamb whithersoever he goeth" (Revelation 14:4) as pilgrims, and resting in the inward teaching of "the anointing," which "is truth" (1 John 2:27) — Tersteegen's charter for a guided-from-within, world-detached life.
trans. Jarred Fenlason · gerhardtersteegen.com/letters/bdi-thi-051 · all rights reservedEnglish translation © Jarred Fenlason · All rights reserved · gerhardtersteegen.com.