About the Work
Thoughts on Communion with God is a devotional and theological work by Rev. Adolph Saphir, published in New York by Robert Carter and Brothers. The book consists of twelve chapters, most of which, as the author explains in his preface, contain the substance of addresses delivered in the ordinary course of congregational ministry on the text of James iv. 8: “Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you.” Three chapters—the fifth, sixth, and eleventh—are exceptions to this origin, being written rather than preached, though they belong to the same unified project. The preface is dated from Trinity Presbyterian Church, Notting Hill, in February 1877, which places the composition of the work in the latter half of the nineteenth century.
“Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you.”
Saphir presents the book as an attempt to offer elementary thoughts on the Christian’s hidden life and to describe what he calls the experienced reality of revelation and of prayer—that is, communion with God. He is explicit about his purpose and his audience. He acknowledges that his era produced much writing in defense of truth against unbelief and doubt, and much writing addressed to those still strangers to the peace of Christ. While he admits the necessity of both the apologetic and the evangelistic tasks, he regards as still more important the unfolding of Scripture itself and the testimony of the reality of things freely given in Christ and by the Spirit. His analogy is memorable: guarding the house against foes, pointing out the gate to those outside, and describing the home itself—the inner sanctuary—are three distinct tasks, and the third is the most essential and the most in accordance with the practice of the apostles. Chapters five and six, he notes, present what he regards as the Scripture method of defense for revelation and prayer.
The book is not a systematic theology in the academic sense, nor a commentary, nor a collection of sermons in the ordinary sense. It is a sustained meditation on a single verse of Scripture, developed through multiple angles and applications, moving from the initial call to draw near to God through the encouragements to prayer, the fulfillment of the promise, the experienced reality of revelation and prayer, the consolation that comes when God draws nigh, and finally the indwelling of God by love and by the Holy Spirit. The title page identifies Saphir as the author of “Expository Lectures on the Epistle to the Hebrews” and “The Life of Faith,” indicating that this work belongs to a broader body of writing concerned with the interior life of faith and the exposition of Scripture.
The preface closes with a quotation from an old author, identified in a footnote as Archbishop Leighton, about speaking of spiritual things from experience rather than mere report. This quotation serves as a kind of epigraph for the entire project: the book aims to speak from experience, not merely to report doctrine. The author’s concern is not to argue for the truth of Christianity in the abstract but to describe what it is like to know God, to pray, to receive revelation, and to live in communion with the divine.
Context
The book emerges from a specific historical and ecclesiastical context. Saphir was a Presbyterian minister, and the preface is dated from Trinity Presbyterian Church, Notting Hill, in February 1877. The nineteenth century was a period of intense theological debate in Britain and America, with challenges to traditional Christian belief arising from biblical criticism, evolutionary theory, and philosophical skepticism. Saphir acknowledges this context directly: he notes that much contemporary writing is devoted to defending truth against unbelief and doubt, and much to appealing to those who are still strangers to Christ’s peace. His own work, he says, takes a different approach.
The editor’s “Note on Mystics” included in the book provides further context. It discusses Indian and Mohammedan mystics, noting that their words contain surprising glimpses of the highest truth and express the human heart’s deep desire and thirst for the Eternal Origin and Fountain with singular force and beauty. A quoted description of a Mohammedan saint portrays prayer as not the saint’s own: God Himself speaks and prays in him, giving both the contemplation and the answer. This is footnoted as quoted by Tholuck on Romans viii. 26. The editor also cites Schopenhauer’s remark on Christian and Indian “penitents,” noting that despite utter dissimilarity of dogmas, customs, and external circumstances, their aspirations and inner life are identical, with quietism, askesis, and mysticism standing in closest connection. The editor’s engagement with these non-Christian mystics shows that the book is written in a context where the phenomenon of mystical experience across religions was a live intellectual issue.
The editor then lists dangerous tendencies of Christian mystics, using no stronger expression because he does not think the more important and best-known writers fell into errors. These include a tendency toward pantheism, a failure to distinguish sufficiently between Christ for us and Christ in us, a tendency to divert attention from Christ to the soul in which God and Christ dwell, a failure to maintain properly the relation of the inward teaching of the Spirit to Scripture, and a tendency to encourage a morbid quietism. The editor’s careful engagement with these tendencies shows that the book is written in a context where the mystical tradition within Christianity was both valued and viewed with caution.
The book also engages with the broader Christian tradition. It quotes from Archbishop Leighton, from Bishop Hall, from Pascal, from Milton’s “Ode to Time,” from a Moravian hymn, and from various other sources. It engages with the Psalms of David, the prophets, the Gospels, and the epistles. It draws on the experience of figures like Abraham, Jacob, Moses, David, Elijah, Daniel, and Paul. The book is thus situated within a long tradition of Christian devotional writing that seeks to describe the interior life of faith.
The context of the book is also the context of its author’s ministry. Saphir was a congregational minister, and the book arises from his preaching. The preface notes that most of the chapters contain the substance of addresses given in the ordinary course of congregational ministration. This means the book is not an academic treatise but a pastoral work, written for the edification of ordinary believers. The author’s aim is to offer elementary thoughts on the Christian’s hidden life, to describe the experienced reality of revelation and prayer, and to encourage his readers to draw nigh to God.
Structure of the Book
The book is organized into twelve chapters, each of which takes up a distinct aspect of the theme announced in the text from James iv. 8. The chapters are not arranged in a strict logical sequence but rather follow the movement of the spiritual life itself, from the initial call to draw near to God through the encouragements to prayer, the fulfillment of the promise, the experienced reality of revelation and prayer, the consolation that comes when God draws nigh, and finally the indwelling of God by love and by the Holy Spirit.
The first chapter, “The Open Secret,” introduces the theme of the hidden life. It asserts that “Not every mystic is a Christian, but every Christian is a mystic.” It speaks of a hidden wisdom, a hidden glory, a hidden life, hidden manna, and an unseen river. The chapter argues that it is impossible to deny the mystical character of Christianity given passages such as John xiv. 23, where Christ speaks of the Father and Son making their abode with the believer. The soul draws nigh to God; God draws nigh to the soul; the result is communion with God—the simplest, most elementary reality of the Christian life.
The second chapter, “Sincerity in Drawing Near to God,” takes up the call to draw near and examines what it means to respond sincerely. It describes two opposite mistakes: some interpret the call as a demand to amend their lives and purify their hearts, while others grasp the free invitation and immediate acceptance of the sinner through Christ but fail to see the necessary connection between grace and the renewal of the heart. Both groups make the same mistake: they do not realize the Lamb of God; they do not behold Jesus Himself and Him crucified. The chapter argues that true drawing near involves both turning from sin and turning to God in Christ, and that this conversion is the inseparable source of justification and sanctification. It uses Saul of Tarsus as an example of what it means to truly pray and truly draw near to God.
The third chapter, “Encouragements to Prayer,” dwells on the abundant mercy, the overflowing riches, and the infinite love awaiting those who draw nigh to God. It describes the privilege of prayer, the dignity of being able to come into God’s presence at any time and in any place, and the assurance that God hears and answers. It grounds petition for temporal needs in Christ’s own example, noting that Jesus taught His disciples to pray “Give us this day our daily bread.” It also speaks of prayer for forgiveness, for deliverance from temptation, and for the spiritual graces that make us like Christ. The chapter concludes with the encouragement that the great High Priest ever lives to intercede, and that before the believer approaches the throne of grace, Christ has already mentioned the believer’s name to the Father.
The fourth chapter, “The Fulfilment of the Promise,” takes up the promise “He will draw nigh to you.” It distinguishes between “outside texts” and “inside texts” of Scripture. The outside texts are the encouragements and invitations so simple and comprehensive that none can doubt their meaning or God’s willingness to receive the returning sinner. The inside texts are those understood and enjoyed only by those who have entered by the open gate. The chapter argues that we need not expect to read the inside texts until we are inside, and that the experience of the believer and God’s dealings with him cannot be known by an outsider. It quotes Pascal on the three kinds of persons: those who have found God and serve Him, those busy seeking Him but not having found Him, and those who, not having found Him, live without seeking Him.
The fifth chapter, “The Experienced Reality of Revelation,” draws the conclusion that God, infinite above us, is to be known and experienced by love, by His dwelling within us. It asks why communion between God and man should seem strange, given that the deepest and simplest knowledge of God is “God is love” and the truest conception of man is that he is created in the image of God. It answers with the light emanating from the Lord Jesus Christ: in Him we behold God manifest in the flesh and man according to the divine idea. The Incarnation announces God’s purpose that we become partakers of the divine nature, establishing real and eternal communion between God and man. The chapter argues that it is the risen Saviour who explains the mystery “through suffering unto glory,” and that this is the only key opening the Scriptures.
The sixth chapter, “The Experienced Reality of Prayer,” argues that living before God, meditating on His words and works, and ascribing glory to His name is impossible without the transition of the state of realizing God into the act of prayer. It describes prayer as the most solemn, difficult, and glorious thing, yet also the easiest, most accessible, and most tenderly implanted in us by divine grace. It compares prayer to the breathing of the quickened soul and to eating, assimilating divine truths, promises, and commands so they become spiritual life-strength. It contrasts astonishment at answers to prayer for deliverance from sickness and outward distress with the greater marvels of divine grace in spiritual petitions. It urges bringing all thoughts, desires, plans, purposes, work, fears, and hopes before God as a child to his father.
The seventh chapter, “God Draws Nigh in Consolation,” takes up the promise from the divine side. It argues that there is only one thing we can secure on earth with absolute certainty and keep with perfect security: heaven—life and the enjoyment of God. The chapter describes the consolation that comes when God draws nigh to the soul, the peace that surpasses understanding, and the joy that is independent of circumstances.
The eighth chapter, “If God Be For Us,” develops the theme of assurance. It takes up the question of Romans viii. 31 and explores what it means to know that God is for us. The chapter argues that this assurance is not based on our own feelings or experiences but on the objective work of Christ and the promises of God.
The ninth chapter, “Communion with God in Daily Life,” applies the theme to the ordinary circumstances of life. It argues that the believer is to let his light shine before men and to adorn the doctrine of the gospel in whatever calling he is placed. He is to view the world as the field where the seed of the gospel is to be sown, where the character of Jesus is to be manifested by His followers, and where God is to be glorified. The chapter describes the believer as a prophet, priest, and king, teaching truth and righteousness, proclaiming peace, and offering intercession, living in a royal spirit above the distractions and anxieties of time.
The tenth chapter, “The Indwelling of God by Love and by the Holy Spirit,” takes up the theme of the divine indwelling. It explores what it means for God to dwell in the believer by love and by the Holy Spirit, and what it means for the believer to dwell in God. The chapter argues that this indwelling is the essence of the Christian life and the source of all its graces.
The eleventh chapter, “With Jesus, Now and For Ever,” takes up the theme of the believer’s present and eternal union with Christ. It describes the believer as being with Jesus now by faith and forever in glory. The chapter concludes with a vision of the eternal home, where the believer shall be forever with the Lord.
The twelfth chapter, though not listed in the contents provided in the notes, presumably continues and completes the theme. The notes indicate that the book concludes with a vision of the eternal home and the believer’s final union with Christ.
Inside the Book
The Preface and the Purpose of the Book
The volume opens with its title page: Thoughts on Communion with God, by the Rev. Adolph Saphir, author of works on Hebrews and the life of faith, published in New York by Robert Carter and Brothers. In the Preface, Saphir explains that most of the chapters began as ordinary congregational addresses on James iv. 8 — “Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you.” His aim is modest and practical: to offer elementary thoughts on the Christian’s hidden life and to describe the experienced reality of revelation and of prayer. He grants that much is being written to defend truth against unbelief and much to appeal to those still strangers to Christ’s peace, but he judges the unfolding of Scripture itself — the testimony of what is freely given in Christ and by the Spirit — to be more important still. Guarding the house against foes and pointing out the gate have their place, but describing the home itself, the inner sanctuary, is most essential and most in keeping with the apostles’ practice. Chapters five and six, he notes, present what he takes to be the Scripture method of defending revelation and prayer.
Meditating on this hidden life, Saphir continues, reveals the substantial unity of all who believe in the grace of Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Ghost. Christians often hold views that seem inconsistent with vital truth, or live in communions with which he could not feel at liberty to be connected; yet none can call Jesus Lord but by the Holy Ghost, and in deep communion with Christ — especially in soul-trial or spiritual elevation — one feels the one Spirit uniting all who love the Lord. The want of union and brotherly love arises not from attaching too much importance to points of difference, but from not beholding clearly enough the magnitude of the truth all Christians hold: God manifest in the flesh. The Preface closes with a quotation from Archbishop Leighton about speaking of spiritual things from experience rather than mere report, and is dated Trinity Presbyterian Church, Notting Hill, February 1877. The Contents list twelve chapters, from “The Open Secret” through “With Jesus, Now and For Ever.”
The Open Secret
The first chapter takes its epigraph from James iv. 8 and opens with a striking claim: not every mystic is a Christian, but every Christian is a mystic. Saphir speaks of a hidden wisdom, citing Paul’s words about the wisdom spoken among the perfect, ordained before the world; the secret of the Lord is with them that fear Him, and in the hidden centre of their being God makes them know wisdom. They have an unction from above teaching them all things. There is a hidden glory, manifested yet beheld only by faith: at Cana Jesus showed His glory and His disciples believed; at Lazarus’s tomb many witnessed, yet only believers saw the glory of God. The glory of God is beheld by faith in the face of Jesus Christ, and Christ is known only by those who know the mystery of His cross and resurrection and wait to be glorified with Him. There is a hidden life, hid with Christ in God, born out of death — mysterious in its commencement, like the wind blowing where it listeth, mysterious in its progress, since “I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me,” and mysterious in its consummation, the marriage of the Lamb. There is hidden manna, meat the world knows not of, and an unseen river whose streams make glad the city of God. Given passages such as the Father and Son making their abode with the believer, it is impossible to deny Christianity’s mystical character. If we know these hidden things, we are hidden ones, to be made manifest when Christ our Life appears. The soul draws nigh to God; God draws nigh to the soul; the result is communion with God — the simplest, most elementary reality of the Christian life.
Half-Knowledge and the Simplicity of the Gospel
Saphir observes that in a country where Christian truth is constantly explained, many possess an intellectual knowledge of doctrine yet have never obeyed God’s call. Their half-knowledge — fully understood only by believers — often makes the simplicity of the gospel hard for them, so that they need much humility and self-distrust to avoid cavilling. The woman of Samaria, the Ethiopian eunuch, the gaoler of Philippi, and countless multitudes turned to God simply on hearing God’s message concerning His Son; they were born again not by understanding the doctrine of regeneration but by hearing the voice of God. When our Lord spoke to Nicodemus, He first showed how great and how far above man’s reach salvation is, in order then to declare how easy it is — how God in His love and by the sacrifice of His Son gives eternal life to whoever believes. The Spirit is not mentioned in the second part of that discourse because, once man is convinced of his sin, guilt, and helplessness, the Spirit enables him to hear God’s voice: “Behold Jesus! Draw nigh to Me!” The sinner who has given up looking to himself looks away from himself unto God. “Ye must be born again” does not leave us to hopeless inactivity; it is the message of Him who says, “Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.” It is addressed to those seeking to save and renew themselves who find no peace, and, going lower, to those who do not yet know they need grace not merely to pardon but to renew. Where sin is truly felt, the necessity of life from above is realized; the shallow view of sin fancies self-renewal possible.
The Hidden Beginning of the New Life
If a Christian who has drawn nigh by God’s grace is asked to describe his experience logically, he answers that he is distinctly conscious of the fact of the new birth: he can distinguish his natural state and old nature from the new life by faith in Christ, knows that what is born of the flesh is flesh and of the Spirit is spirit, that Christ dwells in his heart by faith and the Spirit of God is in him, that to be spiritually-minded is life and peace, and that the word of God formerly outside him now dwells within. But if asked how and when he was born again, he answers that Jesus Himself says man cannot tell: the wind blows where it listeth. The beginning of all life is concealed in sacred and mysterious darkness; this most wonderful of creations cannot be analysed. One may remember the culminating point of decision or the first conscious reception of vivifying truth, but that is not the “reason” one is exhorted to give. The Lord draws nigh to the heart and creates it anew — a miracle of grace whose process we do not see, only its effect: once dead, now live; once blind, now see; Jesus the crucified Saviour has drawn us unto Himself. In this divine change we were set free — no compulsion but emancipation, no limiting of individuality but the commencement of a life personal, for He called us by name, restoring us into the original divine idea of our being. If it appears otherwise, it is because men forget that it belongs to man’s very nature to be in communion with God, in constant dependence on Him, receiving out of His fulness. When God works both to will and to do, then begins our true human existence, our real God-intended individuality, our sweet and dearly-bought freedom.
Excuses, Introspection, and the Voice of God
The most comforting doctrines of grace, especially of the Spirit’s work, are often changed into difficulties obstructing the soul’s drawing nigh to God and into excuses for remaining passive. This arises from disobedience to God who calls, from averting the eyes that ought to be directed to God in Christ and busying itself instead with introspection — the attempt of eye-inspection. Men turn to the philosophy of looking, to analysis of the required act of turning to God, not realizing they are called by the living voice and have not to deal with doctrines but with God. A footnote quotes an American author: the soul only, when divinely influenced, receives its power; our faculties, like the eye filled with light from without, wait for power from above; it is the divine energy acting through the human faculty that gives man his real existence, and no man knows his power or the height and depth of his being until he unfolds under the influence of the Spirit of the living God. “That we are bound to God is as great a restriction of our liberty, as it is to a plant’s freedom to be held by the sun.” A second footnote notices that among all the excuses in our Lord’s parable of the supper, the modern one of doubting whether the invitation is really meant for me does not occur; all felt they were invited and wished to come — which is what all who hear the gospel really feel below the artificial surface of half-digested doctrine.
The Believer’s Calling in the World
The text turns to exhortation, urging the believer to let his light shine before others and to adorn the doctrine of the gospel in whatever station he occupies. The world is the field where the seed of the gospel is sown, where the character of Jesus is made visible in His followers, and where God is glorified. The believer conquers by faith and love, functioning as prophet, priest, and king—teaching truth and righteousness, proclaiming peace, and offering intercession—while living in a royal spirit above the distractions and anxieties of time. He can be a missionary anywhere, for Christ sends him into the world, and he may attain the dignity of confessor and martyr, though in humility and meekness he does not seek to provoke opposition but commends himself to the conscience of all. The less he loves the world in its God-opposed character, the more truly he loves the world and becomes a blessing to those around him.
Turning from worldliness does not mean turning to inactivity but to a life of service. The Christ-called man asks, “What wilt thou have me to do?” The Thessalonians turned from idols to serve the living God; likewise the believer is emancipated from the fetters of sin and transplanted into God’s kingdom to work in the love and energy of a renewed heart. He labours most abundantly who realizes most fully that he is a stranger and pilgrim on earth, not a citizen of time, but one whose home is eternity and whose portion is God.
Encouragements to Draw Nigh
The text calls all whose hearts are toward the Lord to magnify Him and rejoice in God their Saviour, lifting their eyes from sin and misery to the God and Father of Jesus Christ. It invites them to behold divine love as fatherly and to see it in its motherly tenderness, intensity, and constant solicitude, rising to the exalted and confiding dignity of friendship to which Jesus has called them. With solemn joy and hope they go forth to meet the Bridegroom, and the one who made them sorry after a godly sort is the source of their joy. The section closes with a quotation from Milton’s ode, envisioning the soul’s final home, where long eternity greets bliss with an individual kiss, joy overtakes as a flood, and all earthly grossness is quit, the soul attired with stars and triumphing over Death and Chance and Time.
Encouragements to Prayer
A new section, “Encouragements to Prayer,” begins by recalling what has been explained about drawing nigh to God. Beholding the two inseparable gifts the exalted Saviour holds in His pierced hand—repentance and faith—we have seen what sincerity in drawing nigh means: a true turning from sin and worldliness to the grace, love, and life of God freely given in a crucified and risen Saviour. The text now dwells on the abundant mercy, overflowing riches, and infinite love awaiting us when we draw nigh, the atmosphere of free and all-sufficient grace breathed when we approach the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. All divine revelations encourage us to draw nigh to God.
It is man’s duty to draw nigh to God; reason and conscience admit this, and the first commandment, the foundation of all others, is to worship God. Yet only in times of great dullness does the believer regard prayer as a duty rather than a privilege. What higher dignity or more precious gift could we possess? “Behold, what manner of love the Father hath bestowed upon us.” In every place and at all times we may come into His presence; in the name of Jesus we appear before His throne of grace, and He beholds us in Him and loves us as His children. Though we cannot express in words what our souls long for, He interprets and hears the language of our heart. To Him we may confide what we could entrust to no human friend; where all earthly help fails, we can ask His almighty succour. The thoughts and doubts rising within us we can spread before Him to sift, correct, and change; the sorrow too deep for human ministry we can bring to Love, omnipotent and all-compassionate. We can never weary Him with our approach, and not one thought or petition will be overlooked; all good we ask will be granted abundantly, with overflowing and tender mercies. And this is not all—had we no petitions to offer, no gifts, consolations, or deliverances to ask, what a privilege is prayer, were it merely to stand before the Lord and be in His presence.
Prayer in the Name of Christ
The soul that has mounted into the golden heights and is centred in God, anxious about nothing, makes its wants known to the Father through prayer and supplication. Petition for temporal needs is grounded in Christ’s own example: Jesus had nowhere to lay His head, needed food, raiment, shelter, and sometimes money for tribute, and felt responsible for the disciples who had left all to follow Him; hence He taught “Give us this day our daily bread.” The disciples never lacked while with Him. Believers may therefore pray for bodily and temporal wants in a spirit of contentment, charity, faith, moderation, liberality, and calmness without feverish anxiety for the future. Petitions for health, work, direction, and prosperity in daily occupations belong here.
The text then turns to sin. The sinless Saviour felt the burden of the world’s sin, saw iniquity abounding, and saw His own disciples continually trespassing. On the cross He prayed for His enemies; all God’s patience and long-suffering rest on Christ’s mediation. His petition is that sinners may so know and experience God’s forgiving love as to become forgiving and merciful themselves, so that healing and restoring grace brings pardon and peace. He then thinks of the dangers, temptations, and evil His people face while in the body, commends them to God’s guidance, and asks deliverance and victory. He returns into the Father’s bosom to fulness of rest and joy, assured of a perfect answer, “for Himself is the Amen.” Correspondingly, believers are to pray for forgiveness of daily offences and immediately vow to put on, as the elect of God, bowels of mercy, forgiving and forbearing; to pray against temptation and for deliverance from evil; and to conclude with firm conviction and peaceful assurance of God’s answer. “As is your Amen, so has been your prayer.” Prayer in Christ’s name ends with a calm, joyous Amen, since Jesus is the Amen of God in whom all promises and gifts are sealed.
Readers are urged to learn to pray with Christ, in harmony with the man Christ Jesus, the great Mediator and Head of the family, so that they not only pray in His name but live in it. Such prayer yields faith, love, hope, self-communion and self-examination, an unworldly and calm spirit, gravity, watchfulness, solemnity, rejoicing in hope of God’s glory, gentleness, lowliness, forgiveness, and forbearance. The text asks rhetorically whether, given that God is Father, Jesus the Lamb, and the Spirit a Dove, believers should remain proud, selfish, hard, easily provoked, and earthly-minded, and calls them to draw nigh to God and be children of the Most High.
The Intercession of the Great High Priest
Encouragement follows: the great High Priest has ascended and pleads the merit of His blood; He ever lives to intercede. Before the believer approaches the throne of grace, He has already mentioned the believer’s name to the Father, and before the feeble voice is lifted His all-prevailing intercession is heard. The Lord’s intercession and the believer’s prayer rise together as a sweet savour. A Moravian hymn is quoted invoking the High Priest of the Church Dispensation to lift His pierced hand, bless the ransomed congregation everywhere by sea and land, remember each member by name before the Father’s face, shine His face on them, and grant His peace.
God frequently commands and encourages drawing nigh to Him; He never blames importunity and perseverance in prayer. We cannot ask too much, too often, or too earnestly. He mourned over Israel’s want of prayer and believing supplication—had they asked, He would have vanquished their enemies and enriched them with His gifts. God condescends to our language to assure us He delights in hearing prayer. If He seems not to hear, chide, or refuse, it is only to prepare a fuller, more gracious answer. Apparent silence may mark one of the chosen specially near to Him: He said to Mary, “What have I to do with thee?” and would soon show forth His glory. He was silent to the Syro-phenician woman, then refused her as not belonging to the chosen people and called her a dog, but after these dark clouds the sun burst forth brightly with “O woman, great is thy faith.” He made as if He would go further, yet was easily constrained to join the disciples and made Himself known in the breaking of bread. Paul besought Him thrice and received far more and better than he asked: “
Miracle as the Content of Belief
The argument opens with a numbered thesis: miracle is not evidence for belief but is itself the content of belief. It is a constitutive element of the creed—that God Himself, in His omnipotent love, interferes to redeem humanity from evil and renew it after His image. Evidence is not what is needed to verify miracle, since even those who saw Lazarus rise from the grave did not believe. What is needed is the organ to recognize the interference of the living God in saving love. After His resurrection, Jesus appeared only to His chosen disciples, who preached Him as witnesses—not defenders—of His resurrection, with the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven.
The Experienced Reality of Revelation
A section titled “The Experienced Reality of Revelation” draws the conclusion that God, infinite above us, is to be known and experienced by love, by His dwelling within us. It asks why communion between God and man should seem strange, given that the deepest and simplest knowledge of God is “God is love” (and love is never silent), and the truest conception of man is that he is created in the image of God. All laws are compared to this fundamental law, the source and origin of all law. What in man—who alone of earthly creatures lifts his eye to heaven—makes it impossible or improbable that God should speak to him and hear his voice? Where else can the human heart find rest? Humanity seeks in the created, in vain, for the One who can understand and satisfy the heart.
A footnote notes that Jesus speaks of the eye as the light of the body—the eye seeing in God—and that man is created for God, to live, move, and be in Him. A quoted verse laments that not even the dearest heart knows half the reason why we smile or sigh. The text asks whether there is no authority and attractive power in the only Voice saying “Give Me, my son, thy heart” and “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God.” Another footnote, from Aubrey de Vere, urges loving God alone, since vainly the soul strives to mingle with a being of our kind; an impalpable resistance holds like natures at a distance; mortals should love that Holy One or dwell forever alone.
The Incarnation and the Communion It Establishes
The question arises whether such communion is possible—can fallen and exiled man rise to this height, can the holy and righteous God descend to sinful and guilty man? The answer comes with the light emanating from the Lord Jesus Christ: in Him we behold God manifest in the flesh and man according to the divine idea. The Incarnation announces God’s purpose that we become partakers of the divine nature, establishing real and eternal communion between God and man. It cites “Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you,” and describes Jesus’ whole life as communion with God, always being, speaking, and working in the Father and the Father in Him. His existence in the Father prepares us for the mystery He revealed “plainly” on that memorable evening: that He came from the Father and was going to the Father and to the glory He had before the foundation of the world. Beholding the man Christ Jesus and believing He is the Son of God raises the hope that He came not to abide alone but to communicate this life to us. The text welcomes the mystery of His death and resurrection: by the sacrifice of Himself Jesus took away all that separated us from God and became the new and living way of access to the Father; by His resurrection He became the First-born among many brethren and, as the quickening Spirit, is now our life.
Understanding the Scriptures Through the Risen Saviour
This is the point from which all revelation is seen as possible and real. Only after the disciples understood the mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection did they “understand the Scriptures.” They had always believed the Scriptures to be the “oracles of God,” venerating them as the very word of the Most High. Drawn around Jesus by the magnet of His light and love, an inward conviction made them exclaim, “We have found the Messiah—Him of whom Moses in the law, and the prophets, did write!” Yet, as the evangelist John testifies, they did not know the Scripture even when the words and facts they heard and saw were the clearest comment on the written record. “Jesus spake of the temple of His body… When therefore He was risen from the dead, His disciples remembered that He had said this unto them; and they believed the Scripture, and the Word which Jesus had said.”
The text identifies a misconception: fancying that a collocation of Messianic passages and their fulfilment in the New Testament suffices to convince a modern Jew of Christianity’s truth prevents realization of how the apostles believed. The Messianic passages are numerous, forcible, and form the grand foundation of apostolic doctrine, but excepting acquaintance with their general tenor and the expectation of the Messiah, it was Jesus who led the disciples to the Messianic passages, not the observed fulfilment of predictions that brought them to the Lord. It is the risen Saviour who explains the mystery “through suffering unto glory.” This is the only key opening the Scriptures. Jesus is the true David who possesses the key. While He speaks, hearts burn within us, and this glowing heart receives the indelible impression: Jesus is the Christ of Scripture, and Scripture is the word of God. As truly as Jesus is the Word, the Son of God, the Saviour of sinners, the Source of resurrection-life, so true is it that Scripture is the divinely-given record testifying of Him.
Scripture’s Witness to the Reality of Prayer
Scripture treats prayer as objectively real and efficacious, in contrast to reasoning that doubts it. Reason raises objections: that prayer is unnecessary because God knows all things and is good enough to bless without it; or that prayer is of no avail because all things are ordered under fixed and all-wise law. The difference between reasoning and Scripture lies mostly in the differences deduced from premises, the knowledge of which was originally derived from divine revelation itself. Scripture’s method of dealing with these erroneous inferences is simply to ignore them. As Scripture always presupposes faith in God’s existence, so it does not prove prayer’s reality and efficacy but continually takes belief in it for granted, asserting and illustrating it in every variety of form.
God hears prayer: this simplest view is taken throughout Scripture. Scripture fixes with great definiteness the objective purpose of prayer: to obtain blessings, gifts, deliverances from God. Jesus says “Ask, and it shall be given you”; Jehovah said to Solomon, “Ask what I shall give thee”; “Call upon Me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee.” Besides such commandments, there are clearest statements of fact that God answered prayer. In the 107th Psalm, man’s need and misery is described under four images, and in each the history is the same: man, brought low, cries to God in his helplessness, and God delivers him.
All great manifestations of divine power and grace are connected in Scripture with prayer. Even when prayer is not mentioned in the narrative, it is sometimes brought before us in a subsequent portion of Scripture. Thus the prophet Elijah appeared before Ahab declaring, “As the Lord God of Israel liveth, there shall not be dew nor rain these years, but according to my word.” In the epistle of James we are told this announcement of faith was the result of fervent prayer. Perhaps the most striking unveiling of prayer’s power is in Daniel’s prophecy: while Daniel was speaking, praying, confessing his sin and the sin of his people Israel, even while speaking in prayer, the man Gabriel touched him about the time of the evening oblation and said, “Daniel, I am now come forth to give thee skill and understanding. At the beginning of thy supplications the commandment came forth, and I am come to shew thee; for thou art greatly beloved.” Here we see the fulfilment of the divine promise to Israel: “If my people, which are called by my name, shall humble themselves, and pray, and seek my face… then will I hear from heaven.” Daniel’s prayer ascends to God’s throne; at the beginning of his supplication, God gives the commandment to the angel Gabriel to bring the divine answer to the greatly-beloved man.
All these assurances of Scripture, illustrated by almost every great saint in Israel’s history—from Abraham to Moses, to Samuel, to David, to Elijah, to Daniel—are brought before us with still more intense brightness in the person, teaching, and example of the Lord Jesus. He is in all things the Mediator; prayer and answer to prayer are embodied in Him as their eternal Centre. He who is the way from man to God and from God to man is the prayer of God’s children to the Father, and the Yea and Amen of God’s promises to the children. He was a Man of prayer, and all His disciples knew He was heard: “I know that, whatsoever Thou wilt ask of God, God will give it Thee.”
The Two Heavens and the Soul Alone with God
The fullness and sweetness of divine love, the text insists, can be seen and felt by the soul only when it has been emptied and abased. There are but two heavens: one above in glory, the other below in the broken heart. When the soul is perfectly still within, when every voice of self-commendation or excuse is hushed, the voice of the Lord is heard, full of majesty and consolation; God reveals His presence, manifests His love, and we adore.
The image that carries this is a frail bark far from the shore of time and sense. The hills of earth have dropped from view, the last coastline has vanished, and the soul is alone with God upon an infinite ocean that is love. God loved us before the foundations of the world were laid. The soul no longer looks for works of righteousness it has done; chosen in Christ and redeemed with His most precious blood, it knows itself loved with a love that is its own source, ever sustaining and renewing itself, bringing all that pertains to life and godliness. This is the true Sabbath of the soul: ceasing from our works, from all spiritual labour and anxiety, rejoicing in Christ Jesus with the simplicity of little children. As a distant, lonely place of deep virgin silence makes us forget the burden of daily routine and returns the freshness and fragrance of childhood, so it is sometimes given to the Christian to return to his first love and first Christ-absorbed adoring joy.
The text asks whether we are then in the Spirit, and whether it is above or within. As Moses was on the mount, high above the people, above the darkness of Sinai and the clouds of earth, beholding the blue of heaven at the feet of the God of Israel, so the soul is lifted above the crowd of thoughts accusing and excusing one another, above the works of the law and earthly imperfect willing and doing, and beholds the covenant faithfulness of everlasting love. Or it is within: eyes and ears are closed; reason, fancy, and all the energies of the soul rest in quiet expectation. The heavenly Friend has gently opened the door, and in the heart is heard His salutation: “Peace be with thee. Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God. Speak to the heart of Jerusalem, and say unto her that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she hath received of the Lord’s hand a Benjamin-portion for all her sins.”
Draw Nigh to God
A new section begins with the epigraph from James: “Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you.” No exhortation is more solemn, profound, or fundamental, reaching into the very beginnings of spiritual life, and none more comprehensive, embracing the deepest experience of divine grace. No frequency of repetition can weaken their force or exhaust their meaning; they grow in power and sweetness as we obey the command and test the promise.
Addressing those still far from Him, the text asks whether they know that He is, and knowing that He is, whether they can resist the magnet of almighty love manifested in human sorrow, in Jesus lifted up to the cross. They hear the word of God, but do they not know that the word of God lives because God lives? They hear the invitations of divine grace, but do they not realize that God sends them forth, and that this moment the outstretched arms of Fatherly love are ready to receive them? They hear the ambassadors of Christ, but have they never looked through them unto the heavenly throne, where Christ lives, exalted a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and remission of sins? How long will they draw nigh to things which cannot draw nigh to them, to the creature which cannot even understand, far less satisfy, the depth of their thirst, or heal their conscience, or give the peace which only an infinite love can bestow? How long will they allow sin, or the world, or the force of dull habit, to prevent them from facing the solemn realities of eternal life? To those satisfied with the shadow of Christ flitting across mind and imagination, who rest in the knowledge of doctrine and the theory of religion, the call is again “draw nigh to God,” rend your hearts, repent and believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and your sins shall be blotted out, and Jesus Himself shall dwell in your hearts.
Then comes the poor and guilty one who hears the call. Between the cherubim, on the blood-besprinkled mercy-seat, is the presence of the sin-forgiving and yet holy God; but the sinner stands afar off; overwhelming awe, fear, shame, and self-condemnation transfix him to the ground. He cannot advance; he cannot draw nigh; he has no strength, no courage; he would not lift up so much as the eyes, the expression of hope and entreaty, to heaven. Upon his breast he smites, for he knows his sins came not from without but from the depth of his own heart. So still is he, and absolutely poor. Behold, he has drawn nigh to God, and God has drawn nigh to him!
All Things Ours in Christ
Not in dark symbol, not in partial and fragmentary types, has God spoken to us. All things are finite and exhaustible, while Christ is inexhaustible and infinite; all things are outside God, while Christ is within God—the only-begotten, eternal, sovereign Son of the Father. All things are objects of divine favour according to their position and capacity, but Christ is the adequate object of infinite love. “All things” may help bring us to some knowledge of God, reflecting something of His character and glory and speaking part of the divine message, but Christ is the perfect, adequate, ultimate revelation of God; in Him dwells the fulness of the Godhead bodily, and He not merely reveals but imparts, for we dwell in Him and He in us.
“All things” are ours, and those God sees we need are given when and as required. The same free, self-moving grace that made the stupendous sacrifice now provides for every want. Infinite love in the Lord Jesus Christ flows constantly toward us; God always loves us with the same intensity as when Christ died for us. Christ’s death remains both measure and channel. This assurance comes because God draws nigh: beholding the living God and feeling His personal presence, all within us asks the question drawn from Romans—”He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?”—and the prophet’s word is fulfilled, “We know that it is He.” A footnote notes that “He” is, according to the Kabbala, one of the names of God, as also “I.”
The text affirms without restriction that all things are freely given; the mind cannot take in the immensity of this conception, a thought the apostle Paul seems to have dwelt on often. A footnote gathers the relevant passages—Romans viii. 28 and 32, 1 Corinthians iii. 21, Ephesians i. 22, Colossians i. 16 and 20, Hebrews ii. 8 compared with 1 Corinthians xv. 27, and the conclusion of Romans i–xi, “of Him, and through Him, and to Him, are all things.” Such passages, it notes, contain all elements of truth and beauty mingled with dangerous error in Pantheistic systems, and Scripture, like Christ, came not to destroy anything good and true but to fulfil.
Before creation all things were God’s; it was His pleasure, omnipotence, and sovereignty that called them into being. The very possibility of their existence and the idea of their being and nature trace only to this sovereign and eternal Source. His are all angels and men, all things visible and invisible, things present and things to come. God is from eternity to eternity—Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. All things are of the Father, in and for the Son, and through the Spirit. God gave all things made by the Word unto His Son, the Mediator, the Christ, appointed heir of all things. A footnote cites Revelation iv. 11, John i. 1–3, Hebrews i. 2, and John iii. 35.
Christ is God’s gift to us: ours by the Father’s eternal donation and by the Saviour’s own voluntary reception of us, implying His incarnation, death, and resurrection, and His drawing us to Himself by His Spirit. It is a marvellous chain: God gives all things unto Christ; God gives Christ unto us; and if Christ is ours, then all things are ours—we are joint-heirs with Him. “He that overcometh shall inherit all things.” How do we enter into consciousness of this possession and wealth? By the old strait gate. We must first become poor—not relatively but absolutely poor. If we have given away and renounced everything, we must descend into still lower depths, giving up our very self: “Ye are not your own.”
The Old Testament Saints and the Mystery of the Church
The argument turns first to the saints of the old covenant. Though full communion with God still lay in the future during the Old Testament era, many godly and specially favoured Israelites already possessed a deep and strong realisation of present communion with God, together with wonderful anticipations of a still closer union. Phrases such as “The Lord is my light and salvation,” “The Lord is our refuge and strength,” and “The Lord our righteousness” are the language of an experience far above merely knowing that God gives protection and strength, sends light into hearts, and clothes us with righteousness. These men must have known much of the mysterious indwelling of God in us, to which all good thoughts and works are traced, and of our indwelling in God, who alone is our salvation.
Further prophetic insight into the nearer approach of God in the promised One is inferred from the forty-fifth Psalm, which speaks of the marriage of Him who is fairer than the sons of men, into whose lips grace is poured, with Israel the bride, who stands at His right hand in gold of Ophir. This royal Bridegroom is spoken of as God, whose throne is for ever and ever. The psalm is called the bud out of which the song of songs has flowered; the Beloved spoken of is none other than God incarnate. Except in the book of Revelation entrusted to the disciple whom Jesus loved, no other book of Scripture gives a description of the beauty, grace, and strength of the Son of God in His perfect humanity. The Spirit in holy men of old testified within them of the glory of Jehovah, the heavenly Bridegroom.
A caution follows: before the day of Pentecost, Israel—including John the Baptist—did not see the “mystery” of the Church as now revealed. The union of Christ and the Church is the mystery of the present dispensation, prepared in the gospels, especially John, who dwells on the promise of the Holy Ghost and the indwelling of the Father and Son by the Spirit, but fully announced in Paul’s epistle to the Ephesians. It was given to the apostle of the Gentiles, in harmony with his conversion and mission, to unfold this mystery; the Joannean epistle dwells on the spiritual and ethical aspects of the New Testament Church.
Scripture, in unveiling mysteries, leads to heights beyond our vision without dazzling or confusing the eyes, and without puffing up the mind with speculative knowledge that leaves the heart cold. This supernatural union with Christ is taught clearly and definitely, yet evokes the exclamation “Great is the mystery!” There is no vagueness, though the well is deep, and no cold abstraction: the apostle connects the mystery with lowly exhortations—lie not one to another, for you are members of one body; warning against impurity, for our members are members of Christ. Here are the sweetest consolation and brightest hopes of the Christian: the Head is in glory and will not leave us behind; the last Adam, who loved the Church and gave Himself for it, loves and cherishes us as His own body, and after earthly discipline will present us to Himself a glorious church without spot or wrinkle.
Illustrations from every sphere describe this union: as a building rests on a sure foundation, so the Church is built on the Rock; believers are lively stones resting on Christ by faith, in whom God has His habitation through the Spirit. As the vine gives vitality and fruit-bearing strength to branches, so Christ is the indwelling life and resurrection-power of all grafted into Him. As Eve was beloved and cherished by Adam, out of whom she was taken, so the Church, sprung into life on the resurrection morn, is beloved by Him and is one Spirit with the Lord; of her it is said, “We are members of His body, of His flesh, and of His bones.” Still higher: Christ is the Head, we are the members, we are one, the Church is His body, the fullness of Him that filleth all in all.
Added to these illustrations are declarations that we have become partakers of the divine nature, that we are the righteousness of God in Christ, that Christ is in us—“As thou, Father, art in Me, and I in thee”—prompting the exclamation, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is high, I cannot attain unto it.”
Two dangerous aberrations are possible. First, the mysterious depth of Scripture may tempt some to reduce it to a lower, more intelligible meaning—thinking the union is only of affection, gratitude, love, trust, congeniality, and obedience. These elements are necessary, but they must lead us to knowledge of a deeper union out of which they flow: affection is not of nature but shed abroad by the Holy Ghost; faith is the gift of God, and by it Christ dwells in the heart; obedience or fruit originates only from abiding in the true vine. Our union with Christ is therefore not merely ethical but real; Christ is really the source and continued strength of our life. If Christ’s union with the Father were merely moral, so would ours with Christ be; but Jesus saith, “As the living Father hath sent me, and I live by the Father: so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me.” Spiritual conformity to Christ and continued obedience are precious features and results of that real, hidden union of which God the Father is author, Christ the centre, and the Holy Ghost the connecting link. The word, Baptism, and the Lord’s Supper are channels; faith the receptive organ. The root of this union is the eternal counsel of Godhead; the realisation is in the incarnation, death, and resurrection of the Son of God. The ingrafting of branches, formation of members, betrothal of the bride is the work of the co-equal Spirit.
The Spirit’s Motherly Love and the Father’s Generous Love
The treatise proper opens by describing the believer’s understanding of the Spirit’s motherly love, which rescued him from darkness through the enlightening and searching power of the Word and brought a precious jewel into the treasury of heaven. It then describes the Father’s generous and joyous love, who adorns the believer with Christ as robe and righteousness, gives the ring of adoption and inheritance instead of the fetters of sin and fear, and endows the power of new obedience so the enlarged heart can run in God’s commandments. Merrymaking and gladness begin, and the feast lasts through time and eternity. Love compasses us about: the past appears as an island enclosed by the ocean of love—electing, dying, drawing love; the future as endless manifestation and enjoyment of love; in the present, love above, God for us; love around, Jesus with us; love within, the Spirit of Christ given us, assuring us of God’s love and constraining us by Jesus’s love.
Jesus has the pre-eminence: He is the way of divine love to us; only in Him could redemption come, including deliverance from evil and restoration unto glory; only in Him can we behold, accept, and return God’s love. Yet to come to Him whose Son and gift He is, we confess Christ as Lord to the glory of the Father; as Jesus points to the Father, so He reveals and gives Himself by the Spirit. Thus we are brought to the ultimate mystery: God is love because God is Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. He is love from everlasting to everlasting. Creation is the result, not the beginning, of love. Redemption manifests God as love and points to a love of absolute necessity and eternity. God is love, not God became love. Above all creation, above every beginning and end, God is love; Father, Son, and Holy Ghost is the one living and loving Jehovah. Into this love we are planted by the incarnation, death, and resurrection of Jesus. “The Father loveth the Son”; “I and my Father are one”—the ultimate foundation of salvation and glory.
When such thoughts are too high, there is a centre of repose, a magnet drawing hearts, a point where eternities meet and mysteries are irradiated with peace: the little hill outside Jerusalem, the cross outside the camp, Jesus crucified for us. A poem follows: time’s undefined dimensions and eternity’s expansions give no rest; the soul is lost in wonder and awe; the Son of God is dying, faith hears “’Tis finished”; in His most precious blood the speaker sees election and glorious resurrection.
If We Love, God Dwelleth in Us
We cannot love God until we believe God loves us; love presupposes faith, and there can be no faith in God’s love without loving Him. We are saved by faith only, but faith is never alone; it contains the germ of love. Scripture teaches no love except by faith in God’s love, and no faith without love. We know God loved us because Christ died for us; having loved us while enemies, He loves us much more now, reconciled by His Son’s death. God’s love is now in our hearts, and thus God dwells in us.
Main Arguments
The central argument of the book is that communion with God is the simplest and most elementary reality of the Christian life, yet it is also the most profound and the most hidden. The book argues that every Christian is a mystic—not in the sense of being a member of a particular school or tradition, but in the sense of having a hidden life with God that is real, experienced, and transformative. This hidden life is described in Scripture through a variety of images: hidden wisdom, hidden glory, hidden life, hidden manna, and an unseen river. The book argues that it is impossible to deny the mystical character of Christianity given passages such as John xiv. 23, where Christ speaks of the Father and Son making their abode with the believer.
The book argues that drawing nigh to God involves both turning from sin and turning to God in Christ. It describes two opposite mistakes that people make in responding to the call to draw near. Some, impressed by God’s holy and righteous character, interpret the call as a demand to amend their lives and purify their hearts. Others grasp the free invitation and immediate acceptance of the sinner through Christ but fail to see the necessary connection between this grace and the renewal of the heart, the transformation of character, and the turning from sin to God’s service. Both groups take hold of opposite poles of truth yet make the same mistake: they do not realize the Lamb of God; they do not behold Jesus Himself and Him crucified. The book argues that true drawing near involves receiving a twofold truth: Jesus died for me; Jesus is henceforth to dwell and live in me. Without realizing both, we do not realize God.
The book argues that prayer is a real and efficacious means of obtaining blessings from God. It notes that reason raises objections to prayer in various forms: that prayer is unnecessary because God knows all things and is good enough to bless and help without it; or that prayer is of no avail because there is no room for its action, since all things are ordered under fixed and all-wise law. The book argues that Scripture’s method of dealing with these erroneous inferences is simply to ignore them. As Scripture always presupposes faith in God’s existence, so it does not prove prayer’s reality and efficacy but continually takes belief in it for granted, asserting and illustrating it in every variety of form. God hears prayer: this simplest view is taken throughout Scripture. The book cites numerous passages that state God answered prayer, and argues that all great manifestations of divine power and grace are connected in Scripture with prayer.
The book argues that revelation is experienced, not merely believed. It draws the conclusion that God, infinite above us, is to be known and experienced by love, by His dwelling within us. It asks why communion between God and man should seem strange, given that the deepest and simplest knowledge of God is “God is love” and the truest conception of man is that he is created in the image of God. It answers with the light emanating from the Lord Jesus Christ: in Him we behold God manifest in the flesh and man according to the divine idea. The Incarnation announces God’s purpose that we become partakers of the divine nature, establishing real and eternal communion between God and man. The book argues that it is the risen Saviour who explains the mystery “through suffering unto glory,” and that this is the only key opening the Scriptures.
The book argues that the believer is called to a life of service in the world. Turning from worldliness, we do not turn to inactivity, but to a life of service: “What wilt thou have me to do?” is the question of the Christ-called man. The Thessalonians turned from idols to serve the living God. We are emancipated from the fetters of sin and the world, we are transplanted into the kingdom of God, to work in the love and energy of our renewed heart. He labours most abundantly who realizes most fully that he is a stranger and pilgrim on earth, that he is not a citizen of time, but that eternity is his home, that God is his portion.
The book argues that the believer can be assured of God’s favor and can live in the confidence that God is for him. It takes up the question of Romans viii. 31 and explores what it means to know that God is for us. The book argues that this assurance is not based on our own feelings or experiences but on the objective work of Christ and the promises of God.
The book argues that the believer is indwelt by God by love and by the Holy Spirit. It explores what it means for God to dwell in the believer and for the believer to dwell in God. The book argues that this indwelling is the essence of the Christian life and the source of all its graces.
The book argues that the believer is with Jesus now by faith and will be with Him forever in glory. It describes the believer’s present and eternal union with Christ and concludes with a vision of the eternal home, where the believer shall be forever with the Lord.
Key Concepts
The concept of the “open secret” is central to the book. The first chapter is titled “The Open Secret,” and the phrase captures the paradox that the hidden life of communion with God is both open and secret. It is open because the invitation is extended to all: “Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you.” It is secret because only those who respond to the invitation actually enter into the experience. The book distinguishes between “outside texts” and “inside texts” of Scripture. The outside texts are the encouragements and invitations so simple and comprehensive that none can doubt their meaning or God’s willingness to receive the returning sinner. The inside texts are those understood and enjoyed only by those who have entered by the open gate. The book argues that we need not expect to read the inside texts until we are inside.
The concept of the hidden life is developed throughout the book. The book speaks of a hidden wisdom, a hidden glory, a hidden life, hidden manna, and an unseen river. The hidden life is described as being hid with Christ in God, born out of death. It is mysterious in its commencement, in its progress, and in its consummation. The book argues that the beginning of all life is concealed in sacred and mysterious darkness; this most wonderful of creations cannot be analysed. The comparison to a birth points to a still more hidden commencement of life known only to the Spirit of God.
The concept of drawing nigh to God is the organizing theme of the book. The text from James iv. 8 provides the structure for the entire work: “Draw nigh to God, and He will draw nigh to you.” The book explores what it means to draw nigh to God, what obstacles stand in the way, what encouragements exist, and what results follow. It argues that drawing nigh involves both turning from sin and turning to God in Christ, and that this conversion is the inseparable source of justification and sanctification.
The concept of the experienced reality of revelation and prayer is central to the book’s argument. The book argues that revelation is not merely a set of propositions to be believed but a reality to be experienced. It argues that prayer is not merely a duty to be performed but a privilege to be enjoyed and a power to be exercised. The book describes prayer as the most solemn, difficult, and glorious thing, yet also the easiest, most accessible, and most tenderly implanted in us by divine grace. It compares prayer to the breathing of the quickened soul and to eating, assimilating divine truths, promises, and commands so they become spiritual life-strength.
The concept of the indwelling of God by love and by the Holy Spirit is developed in the later chapters of the book. The book explores what it means for God to dwell in the believer and for the believer to dwell in God. It argues that this indwelling is the essence of the Christian life and the source of all its graces. The book speaks of the believer as being in Christ and Christ being in the believer, and of the Holy Spirit as the bond of this union.
The concept of the believer as a stranger and pilgrim on earth is developed in the book’s application of its theme to daily life. The book argues that the believer is to view the world as the field where the seed of the gospel is to be sown, where the character of Jesus is to be manifested by His followers, and where God is to be glorified. He is to conquer by faith and love. He is to be a prophet, priest, and king, teaching truth and righteousness, proclaiming peace, and offering intercession, living in a royal spirit above the distractions and anxieties of time. He can be a missionary everywhere: Christ sends him into the world.
The concept of the eternal home is developed in the book’s concluding chapters. The book describes the believer’s present and eternal union with Christ and concludes with a vision of the eternal home, where the believer shall be forever with the Lord. The book quotes Milton’s “Ode to Time” to describe the final state: “Then long Eternity shall greet our bliss / With an individual kiss, / And joy shall overtake us as a flood, / When everything that is sincerely good / And perfectly divine / With truth, and peace, and love, shall ever shine / About the supreme throne / Of Him, to whose happy-making sight alone, / When once our heav’nly-guided soul shall climb, / Then all this earthly grossness quit, / Attir’d with stars, we shall for ever sit / Triumphing over Death and Chance and thee, O Time.”
Themes
The theme of communion with God runs through the entire book. The book is fundamentally about what it means to know God, to speak with Him, to hear His voice, and to live in His presence. The book argues that communion with God is the simplest and most elementary reality of the Christian life, yet it is also the most profound and the most hidden. The book describes communion with God as the result of the soul drawing nigh to God and God drawing nigh to the soul. It is the meeting of the human spirit with the divine Spirit, the fellowship of the creature with the Creator, the friendship of the redeemed with the Redeemer.
The theme of the hidden life is closely related to the theme of communion with God. The book argues that the Christian life is hidden with Christ in God. It is not visible to the world, and it is often not fully visible even to the believer himself. The book speaks of the hidden wisdom, the hidden glory, the hidden life, the hidden manna, and the unseen river. It argues that the beginning of all life is concealed in sacred and mysterious darkness, and that this most wonderful of creations cannot be analysed. The hidden life is mysterious in its commencement, in its progress, and in its consummation.
The theme of prayer is developed extensively in the book. The book argues that prayer is the breath of the soul, the means by which the believer draws nigh to God and receives from His fullness. The book describes prayer as the most solemn, difficult, and glorious thing, yet also the easiest, most accessible, and most tenderly implanted in us by divine grace. It compares prayer to eating, assimilating divine truths, promises, and commands so they become spiritual life-strength. The book argues that prayer is not one among many manifestations of spiritual life but stands by itself and pre-eminent—the manifestation of our personal relation to God and the essential expression of our filial relation in Christ to the Father.
The theme of revelation is developed in the fifth chapter and throughout the book. The book argues that revelation is not merely a set of propositions to be believed but a reality to be experienced. It argues that God, infinite above us, is to be known and experienced by love, by His dwelling within us. It answers the question of how communion between God and man is possible with the light emanating from the Lord Jesus Christ: in Him we behold God manifest in the flesh and man according to the divine idea. The Incarnation announces God’s purpose that we become partakers of the divine nature, establishing real and eternal communion between God and man.
The theme of consolation is developed in the seventh chapter and throughout the book. The book argues that there is only one thing we can secure on earth with absolute certainty and keep with perfect security: heaven—life and the enjoyment of God. The book describes the consolation that comes when God draws nigh to the soul, the peace that surpasses understanding, and the joy that is independent of circumstances. It argues that the believer can be assured of God’s favor and can live in the confidence that God is for him.
The theme of service is developed in the ninth chapter and throughout the book. The book argues that turning from worldliness does not mean turning to inactivity, but to a life of service. The believer is to view the world as the field where the seed of the gospel is to be sown, where the character of Jesus is to be manifested by His followers, and where God is to be glorified.
