That the turning of the heart to God already shows a trust in Him, even when it is not felt.
The Thirty-Eighth Letter.
That the turning of the heart to God already shows a trust in Him, even when it is not felt.
In the grace of our dear Saviour, dearly beloved brother!
—— When I came here again, I found your kind letter of the 23rd of this month, by which I was truly refreshed, and found cause to thank the Lord that you all are faring there still more or less in the usual way. May this most gracious God be unmovedly near to you all, and to me also, in the sweet name of Jesus! May He hold us too unmovedly fast in His nearness, so that in these confused days we may not be confused along with them, but go ever further on the inward, narrow way of the heart, and thereby receive all the inflowing of strength out of this His lovely nearness! Amen.
It is, then, as you write, dear brother, that not only does he have trust in God who feels such trust, but that the mere turning of a poor heart to grace is itself paired with trust. A sick man who turns to the physician proves by the deed that he has trust, or hope, of being helped by him — even though, because of the feeling of his sickness, he sometimes does not feel much trust. The healthy, who do not need the physician, or others whom their sickness does not press so hard, can also trust more easily; but where there is an almighty Physician, such as ours, under whose cure not a single one has ever perished — as is clear from so unnumbered many instances — there even the most desperate patient has no cause to let his trust sink; and it will greatly further his recovery if he looks more with trust upon the Physician than with distrust upon his own miseries. The deepest feeling of our miseries and weaknesses can give us the purest trust in the infinite goodness of God. We must only not grow weary in turning to God, and must look away from ourselves as well as we can — and then the inward, still trust will be given us more and more. The swept-out, frivolous trust profits nothing. The Lord will teach it to us. Amen!
—— Remember me, all of you; I do the like. In hope of seeing your face again before long, I remain
Your devoted, weak brother.
Amsterdam, 26 July 1743.
German
Der achtunddreißigste Brief.
Daß die Zuwendung des Herzens zu GOtt schon ein Vertrauen zu demselben anzeige, wann es gleich nicht gefühlet werde.
In der Gnade unsers theuren Heilandes herzlich geliebter Bruder!
—— Wie ich wieder hier kam, fand ich dein Angenehmes vom 23ten dieses, wodurch ich recht erquicket ward, und Ursach fand, dem HErrn zu danken, daß ihr euch daselbst noch ungefähr im Gewöhnlichen befindet.
— 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. The last of three letters from Amsterdam in July 1743, and the sequel to the previous one — again to Heinrich Sommer and his circle. Its subject, named in the rubric, is a fine point of the inner life: that the turning of the heart to God is already trust, even before one feels any trust. It answers something Sommer had evidently written. The whole argument runs on one image. "A sick man who turns to the physician proves by the deed that he has trust… even though, because of the feeling of his sickness, he sometimes does not feel much trust." So it is with the soul: the very act of turning to God is the trust, whatever the feelings say. And the Physician here is one "under whose cure not a single one has ever perished," so "even the most desperate patient has no cause to let his trust sink." The counsel is to keep turning — "we must only not grow weary in turning to God" — and to mistrust the feelings rather than the Physician: "the deepest feeling of our miseries… can give us the purest trust in the infinite goodness of God."
The old edition abridged the close of this letter. In a manuscript copy the ending survives, and it is unexpectedly personal: after so much counsel, Tersteegen lets slip his own state. "The Lord strengthens me still, beyond expectation," he writes, "though the visit falls hard on me, and my body and mind begin again to long for my little room." He is worn by his stay in Amsterdam and homesick for his cell at Mülheim. The passage is given in the apparatus; it is not part of the reader text, which follows the printed copy-text.
A few words and echoes.
- A sick man who turns to the physician… Matthew 9:12 — "They that be whole need not a physician, but they that are sick." The image governs the whole letter.
- the inward, narrow way of the heart. Matthew 7:14 — "narrow is the way, which leadeth unto life."
- the mere turning of a poor heart… is itself trust. Cf. the "drawing" of John 6:44 taken up in the two preceding letters — the turning is grace's own work.
trans. Jarred Fenlason · gerhardtersteegen.com/letters/bdii-thiii-038 · all rights reservedEnglish translation © Jarred Fenlason · All rights reserved · gerhardtersteegen.com.