The inward man must only be humbled by the striving of the outward man against him, and must not grow weary of seeking God.
The Hundred-and-first Letter.
The inward man must only be humbled by the striving of the outward man against him, and must not grow weary of seeking God.
N. N.
Scarcely will my circumstances allow it even today, that I answer your welcome letter of the 29th of last month with a couple of lines.
With compassion I learn of your still-continuing bodily weakness and sufferings; but when I look upon the holy and lovable purposes of God beneath them, then I must subscribe to it all with still adoration: Let your soul do the same, dear brother, and with closed eyes simply enter into these purposes of God over you, which cannot be other than good; Rom. 8:28 and 29. Yea, they are so great and excellent that a little passing suffering is to be counted as small against them. I say, your soul — that is, your inner new will, bestowed by God — shall subscribe; for it matters little, even if in the outward or lower part all manner of strivings-against are felt: this feeling, too, belongs to the suffering of a Christian; whereby the soul is imperceptibly humbled, made poor and small, and, under all adverse feeling, secretly sinks itself down into the grace and power of its Redeemer, which are so near — or at least, hungering after that grace and waiting for it composedly, is at last more fully penetrated by it, and obtains the victory through Him who quickens it from within. This just-named sinking-in, hungering, waiting, etc., is the proper work of faith, to which God at last certainly gives Himself, unto overcoming. Only distinguish, then, the inward man better from the outward, and walk on with God in good courage! Nature, to be sure, will never be willing to suffer; she must die. Away with all false tenderness! Because our time is short, we must walk straight forward, against nature.
Do not wonder, dear brother, that you still perceive yourself so far removed from God and from your goal: we have strayed farther from the goal than we knew. It is the very Lord our God who lets us see this, and who, without our knowing, in this way leads us ever nearer. O yes! He is unspeakably near to us; He busies Himself with us unceasingly; He cares for us wonderfully. He has sought you and me so many years, amid countless refusals, and at last has made us seekers ourselves as well — so that it is surely a shame still to complain, as you do in your letter, that God is still so unknown to you, notwithstanding you have sought Him so long. It is God, as I say, who makes us seek; God takes pleasure in our seeking. Whoever has found God has found such a treasure that to have sought it a thousand years will seem to him neither too much nor too long. Only carry on honestly, and do not grow weary so soon! As a rule one seeks God long without finding Him; and unexpectedly He lets Himself be found without seeking.
As for the singing of an evening with your brother, I advise not to break it off in itself; but rather — without presuming to prescribe — first to read a little from the New Testament or from another book, and then to sing a little hymn; after which each one might simply withdraw at once, so as not to fall into any distracting conversations. — — Be all of you heartily greeted by us.
Mülheim, the 8th of August, 1748.
German
Der hundertunderste Brief.
Der innere Mensch muß durch die Widerstrebung des äußeren Menschen nur gedemüthiget werden, und nicht ermüden um GOtt zu suchen.
N. N. Kaum wollens meine Umstände auch heute zulassen, daß ich dein Angenehmes vom 29ten pass. mit ein paar Zeilen beantworte.
— 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 second letter to Abraham Evertsen, the Barmen merchant of the hundredth letter, seven weeks on. The Amsterdam journey is behind him, but the weakness is not — and in his letter of the 29th of July he had let a complaint slip: that God is still so unknown to him, for all his long seeking. Tersteegen answers both things, the sick body and the discouraged seeking, and the printed title binds them together: the inward man must only be humbled by the outward man's resistance, and must not grow weary of seeking God.
The soul countersigns. The first paragraph gives the sickroom its theology in a single legal metaphor. Looking at the "holy and lovable purposes of God" beneath the suffering, Tersteegen "must subscribe to it all with still adoration" — set his name under God's document — and the brother's soul is to do the same: "with closed eyes simply enter into these purposes of God over you, which cannot be other than good" (he cites Romans 8:28–29 in the text). Then the precision that makes the counsel workable: the soul that signs is not the feelings but "your inner new will, bestowed by God." It matters little if "in the outward or lower part all manner of strivings-against are felt" — the old two-story anatomy of the soul — for "this feeling, too, belongs to the suffering of a Christian." The old print stresses the word feeling here (it letterspaces it, its typographic italics), because the whole paragraph turns on it: under all adverse feeling the soul "secretly sinks itself down into the grace and power of its Redeemer, which are so near — or at least, hungering after that grace and waiting for it composedly, is at last more fully penetrated by it." And then the summary sentence that could stand over Tersteegen's whole doctrine of faith: "This just-named sinking-in, hungering, waiting, etc., is the proper work of faith, to which God at last certainly gives Himself." The paragraph ends drill-sergeant blunt: "Nature, to be sure, will never be willing to suffer; she must die. Away with all false tenderness! Because our time is short, we must walk straight forward, against nature."
The seeker's complaint answered. The second paragraph takes up the discouragement, and turns it inside out three times. First: do not wonder at seeing yourself far from God — "we have strayed farther from the goal than we knew," and it is "the very Lord our God who lets us see this"; the sight of distance is itself His approach, for "without our knowing" He "leads us ever nearer." Second: the years of seeking were never one-sided — "He has sought you and me so many years, amid countless refusals, and at last has made us seekers ourselves as well," so that complaining of an unknown God is "surely a shame": even the seeking is His gift, and "God takes pleasure in our seeking." Third, the treasure: whoever finds God "has found such a treasure that to have sought it a thousand years will seem to him neither too much nor too long." The paragraph closes with the paradox the mystics loved, and Scripture before them: "As a rule one seeks God long without finding Him; and unexpectedly He lets Himself be found without seeking."
The household close. Then the pastor of families: the evening singing with his brother — Johann Engelbert, the recipient of the ninety-third and ninety-eighth letters, who shared the Barmen house — is not to be broken off; but ("without presuming to prescribe," his courteous formula) read a little from the New Testament first, then sing the hymn, then let each one "simply withdraw at once, so as not to fall into any distracting conversations." Even devotion can dissipate into chatter; the recollected soul retires while the water is still clear. The redactor's dash cuts something here, and the letter ends with the household greeting: "Be all of you heartily greeted by us."
A few words and echoes.
- must not grow weary of seeking God. The argument's charge — "let us not be weary in well doing" (Galatians 6:9) turned toward the one work of seeking.
- subscribe… with still adoration. The will sets its signature under God's providence — adoration as countersignature, not resignation.
- purposes of God over you, which cannot be other than good. His own citation: Romans 8:28–29, all things working together for good.
- a little passing suffering… counted as small. Romans 8:18 — sufferings "not worthy to be compared"; and 2 Corinthians 4:17, "our light affliction, which is but for a moment."
- the outward or lower part. The period's two-story soul — the critical edition glosses Theil as "part of the soul." Feeling lives downstairs; the new will signs upstairs.
- this feeling, too, belongs to the suffering of a Christian. The letter's pivot — stressed in the old print. Unfelt grace is still grace; the felt resistance is itself part of the cross.
- sinks itself down… hungering… waiting. The soul's three postures under dry suffering; "blessed are they which do hunger" (Matthew 5:6) stands behind the middle one.
- the proper work of faith. Not attainment but the sinking, hungering, waiting themselves — to which "God at last certainly gives Himself, unto overcoming" (the victory-word of Romans 8:37 and 1 Corinthians 15:57).
- the inward man… the outward. Paul's pair — "though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day" (2 Corinthians 4:16; Romans 7:22).
- walk on with God in good courage. The house-word getrost — the pilgrim's marching temper.
- she must die. Nature personified and sentenced in four words — the mortification of the old man (Romans 6:6).
- our time is short. 1 Corinthians 7:29, nearly verbatim.
- the very Lord our God… lets us see this. The discovery of distance re-read as grace: He shows it, and He is "not far from every one of us" (Acts 17:27).
- made us seekers ourselves. Even the seeking is given — "ye shall seek me, and find me" (Jeremiah 29:13–14) with the initiative on God's side.
- such a treasure. The treasure hid in the field, worth all a man has (Matthew 13:44) — here, worth a thousand years of seeking.
- found without seeking. Isaiah 65:1 — "I am found of them that sought me not" (quoted by Paul, Romans 10:20). The critical edition hears Isaiah 58:9 ("Here I am") as well.
- withdraw at once… no distracting conversations. Zerstreuung — dissipation, the recollected soul's enemy; the evening devotion ends before it unravels.
trans. Jarred Fenlason · gerhardtersteegen.com/letters/bdii-thiii-101 · all rights reservedEnglish translation © Jarred Fenlason · All rights reserved · gerhardtersteegen.com.