Of the adorable providence of God, to make us thoroughly will-less.
The Ninety-eighth Letter.
Of the adorable providence of God, to make us thoroughly will-less.
In the grace of Jesus, dearly beloved friend!
It will doubtless come to you, as to all of us here, as something unexpected, that it has pleased the Lord to take the dear friend M., in the night between Wednesday and Thursday, up to Himself into eternity. One did not expect that it would come to an end with her — at least, so soon; yet in this too God's thoughts have not been our thoughts, with whose good pleasure we must accustom ourselves to unite our own will inwardly in all things — to which He gladly gives grace.
The un-dying of our own will is a chief cause of our inner unrest; and thorough will-lessness in all things is the shortest way to the abiding peace of the soul.
Oh, how wonderfully beautiful, and how worthy of adoration, are the dispositions of the divine providence in our inward and outward life — when they seek to bring us, sometimes even in the least things and circumstances throughout the day, to the dying-away of our own will! Might we only receive everything thus! Yea, inwardly too the Lord wills that we should not, with unrest, will and desire this or that, so or otherwise; but that we should live in His dearest will — that is, in Himself — and let that alone be our sanctification. There are still, nowadays, many good souls, but few true adorers of the will of God. One lives too much in oneself, and in one's own good opinion of oneself; one will not become a resigned, foolish child, nor surrender oneself unconditionally to the will of the Lord, and follow Him without seeing. To this we are called: may God instruct us in it — and you, dear sister, in particular — that you too may not forget your lesson therein.
May the dear Jesus bless you! — in whom I greet you heartily. It will be dear to me when, one day soon, I shall see your husband here together with you, if it may so please the Lord. The time does not now permit me to write more; and besides, I would not gladly give you occasion to burden and scatter your mind through too much reading, which easily happens through too much reading. Hide yourselves, with me, in the heart of Jesus, in the still ground of the spirit. Amen!
Your weak fellow-brother.
Mülheim, the 26th of March, 1730.
German
Der achtundneunzigste Brief.
Von der Anbetungs-würdigen Vorsehung GOttes, um uns gründlich willenlos zu machen.
In der Gnade JEsu vielgeliebte Freundin!
Es wird euch, sowohl als uns allen hier, ohne Zweifel was unvermuthet vorkommen, daß es dem HErrn gefallen, die liebe Freundin M. in der Nacht zwischen Mittwoch und Donnerstag zu sich in die Ewigkeit über zu nehmen.
— 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 letter written 26 March 1730, on the sudden death of a friend — "the dear friend M." — who had died unexpectedly "in the night between Wednesday and Thursday." Griesenbeck and the whole circle would feel it, Tersteegen knows, as a shock; and he uses the shock to teach the lesson the whole letter is named for: the "adorable providence of God, to make us thoroughly will-less." In this death too, he says, "God's thoughts have not been our thoughts" — and the one thing we must learn is to bring our own will, inwardly, into agreement with His. For (and here is the sentence at the letter's core) "the un-dying of our own will is a chief cause of our inner unrest; and thorough will-lessness in all things is the shortest way to the abiding peace of the soul." He then widens it wonderfully: God's providence is not only in great losses but "even in the least things and circumstances throughout the day," everywhere working "the dying-away of our own will." There are many good souls, he observes, "but few true adorers of the will of God," because we cannot bear to "become a resigned, foolish child" and "follow Him without seeing." He closes gently — hoping to see her and her husband soon, warning her (twice in one breath) not to "burden and scatter" her mind with too much reading, and leaving her with one of his tenderest images: "Hide yourselves, with me, in the heart of Jesus, in the still ground of the spirit. Amen."
A few words and echoes.
- God's thoughts are not our thoughts. Almost verbatim from Isaiah — "For my thoughts are not your thoughts … saith the Lord" (Isaiah 55:8), applied to the mystery of the friend's death.
- Will-lessness … the shortest way to peace. Tersteegen's central word for resignation (Gelassenheit): the "un-dying" of self-will keeps us restless, and only its dying brings peace.
- Let that alone be our sanctification. Paul's word — "this is the will of God, even your sanctification" (1 Thessalonians 4:3) — so that to will God's will is holiness.
- A resigned, foolish child … follow Him without seeing. Faith as a child's blind trust (Matthew 18:3), walking "by faith, not by sight" (2 Corinthians 5:7).
- True adorers of the will of God. An echo of the "true worshippers" who worship "in spirit and in truth" (John 4:23) — here, worship directed at God's will.
- Hide yourselves in the heart of Jesus. Paul's "your life is hid with Christ in God" (Colossians 3:3) — the "still ground of the spirit" as the place of refuge.
trans. Jarred Fenlason · gerhardtersteegen.com/letters/bdi-thi-098 · all rights reservedEnglish translation © Jarred Fenlason · All rights reserved · gerhardtersteegen.com.