The Imitation of Christ is a devotional handbook in four books, written in Latin and attributed to Thomas à Kempis, an Augustinian canon who spent most of his long life at Mount St. Agnes near Utrecht and died in 1471. Its chapters are short, direct, and meant to be read slowly: Book One, “Admonitions Profitable for the Spiritual Life,” Book Two, “Admonitions Concerning the Inner Life,” Book Three, “On Inward Consolation,” and Book Four, “Of the Sacrament of the Altar.” The work circulated anonymously across Western Europe in manuscript before printing, and its authorship was disputed for centuries—scribes attributed it to Bernard of Clairvaux, to the English mystic Walter Hilton, and to Jean Gerson, Chancellor of Paris, before internal evidence and the weight of the manuscripts settled on à Kempis. Excepting the Bible, no Christian writing has been so widely and continuously read.
“Behold, here I am! Behold, I come to thee, for thou didst call Me.”
The Core Argument
The book’s claim is simple and severe: a good life, not deep words, makes a person dear to God. Christ’s words—”He that followeth me shall not walk in darkness”—set the measure. To follow Him is to imitate His life, and that imitation begins with humility, since deep discussion of the Trinity profits nothing to a man who cannot judge lowly of himself. A peasant serving God stands higher than a proud philosopher. At the Day of Judgment, the reader is told, we are asked not what we have read but what we have done.
From this root the treatise draws its practical conclusions. Knowledge without the fear of God profits nothing; the greater one’s learning, the more severely one is judged unless one has lived holily. Truth is to be sought in Scripture rather than in cleverness of words, and tested patiently rather than trusted on first feeling. Inordinate desire brings restlessness, and peace comes from resisting passion, not from yielding to it. Trust belongs to God alone, not to men or created things, and the heart should be opened only to the wise and God-fearing. Obedience and subjection are safer than authority; peace is found in humble submission, not in changing places. Adversity is useful because it reminds a man he is a stranger and sojourner and cannot rest in any worldly thing. Temptation is unavoidable while we live in the world—”the life of man upon the earth is a trial”—and the devil never sleeps, so watchfulness and prayer are permanent duties.
The later books turn inward and upward. The kingdom of God is within you; Christ will come and show His consolation to the soul that prepares a worthy mansion. Human comfort is not to be despised when God gives it, but the harder and greater thing is to bear the loss of both human and divine consolation, seeking oneself in nothing. Desires must be examined and governed, patience must grow, and the disciple must learn to rest in God above all goods and gifts—above health, beauty, honour, knowledge, consolation, and even the whole army of heaven, since whatever God gives without Himself is insufficient. The book closes its third book with the disciple committing himself wholly into God’s hands, bowing under the rod of correction, asking to be made a lowly disciple who walks according to every nod of God’s will.
Inside the Book
The Four Books and the Question of Authorship
The Benham translation opens with a table of contents laying out four books: Book One, “Admonitions Profitable for the Spiritual Life,” in twenty-five chapters; Book Two, “Admonitions Concerning the Inner Life,” in twelve; Book Three, “On Inward Consolation,” in fifty-nine; and Book Four, “Of the Sacrament of the Altar,” in eighteen. An introductory note then takes up the puzzle of the work’s origin. It was written in Latin early in the fifteenth century, though the exact date and author remain disputed. Manuscripts survive in numbers across Western Europe. One scribe credits St. Bernard of Clairvaux, but a quotation from St. Francis of Assisi—born thirty years after Bernard’s death—kills that theory. In England, manuscripts of the first three books, called “Musica Ecclesiastica,” are often ascribed to the mystic Walter Hilton, who seems to have died in 1395, with no evidence of the work before 1400. Many European manuscripts name Jean le Charlier de Gerson, Chancellor of Paris. The likeliest author, especially on internal evidence, is Thomas Haemmerlein—Thomas à Kempis—from Kempen near the Rhine, born around 1379 or 1380, a member of the Brothers of Common Life who spent his last seventy years at Mount St. Agnes, an Augustinian monastery in the diocese of Utrecht, dying July 26, 1471. Excepting the Bible, the note adds, no Christian writing has enjoyed such sustained popularity, though it is hardly original: its structure owes much to medieval mystics, its ideas and phrases a mosaic from Scripture and the Fathers.
Book One: Knowledge, Humility, and the Testing of Spirits
Book One opens by taking Christ’s words—”He that followeth me shall not walk in darkness”—as the measure of how far His life must be imitated for true illumination. His teaching surpasses all teaching of holy men; many hear the Gospel but feel little longing because they lack the mind of Christ. Deep discussion of the Trinity profits nothing without humility. A good life, not deep words, makes a man dear to God. All is vanity save to love God and serve Him only—vanity to trust in perishable riches, covet honours, follow fleshly desires, desire long life with little care for good life, and love what passes away.
Knowledge without fear of God profits nothing; a lowly peasant serving God is better than a proud philosopher. He who knows himself well is vile in his own sight. The greater one’s knowledge, the more severely one shall be judged unless one has lived holily, and the highest lesson is to know and judge lowly of oneself while thinking kindly of others. Happy the man whom Truth itself teaches, for our judgment and feelings often deceive us; the man to whom all things are one remains steadfast in God, and a lowly knowledge of self is a surer way to God than deep learning. At the Day of Judgment we are asked not what we have read but what we have done. Prudence follows: do not trust every word or feeling, but patiently test whether it be of God. Seek Truth in Holy Writ, not cunning of words, for men pass away but the truth of the Lord endures. Inordinate desire brings restlessness; true peace is found in resisting passion, not yielding. Do not trust in men or created things, nor boast of riches, strength, beauty, or good works. Open your heart only to the wise and God-fearing, avoiding familiarity with the young, strangers, the rich, and the great, choosing the humble and simple as company, and commending all good women to God.
Obedience, Silence, and the Pursuit of Peace
All men must be loved, but not all made close companions: one unknown person may be highly regarded through good report though his actual person displeases beholders, and intimacy sometimes displeases others the more because of the faultiness of character they perceive in us. Living in obedience and under authority, not at one’s own disposal, is a great thing; subjection is safer than authority. Many obey from necessity rather than love, take it amiss, and repine for small cause, gaining no freedom of spirit unless they submit with all their heart for the love of God. Peace is found only in humble subjection to the authority set over one; fancies about places and changing them have deceived many. Though each man follows his own bent and favors those who agree with him, if Christ is among us we must sometimes yield our opinion for peace. No one is wise enough to know all things; it is safer to hearken and receive counsel than to give it, and refusing to hearken when reason or occasion requires is pride or wilfulness.
Avoid the tumult of men, since talk of worldly things, even innocently undertaken, hinders and defiles through vanity. The speaker often wishes he had held his peace and not gone among men; we rarely resume silence without hurt to conscience. We like talking because we hope for mutual comfort by variety of thoughts, and willingly talk of what we love, desire, or most dislike—but this is often vain, and outward consolation hinders inner comfort from God. Watch and pray that time not pass idly; if speaking is right, speak to edification. Evil custom and neglect of real profit make us heedless of watching our lips, yet devout conversation on spiritual things helps spiritual progress, especially where kindred minds find fellowship in God.
Peace is enjoyed if we refrain from busying ourselves with others’ sayings and doings and things not concerning us; he who occupies himself with other men’s matters, paying little heed to the self within, cannot long abide in peace. The single-hearted are blessed with abundance of peace. Many Saints were perfect and contemplative because they steadfastly mortified themselves from all worldly desires, clinging wholeheartedly to God. We are too occupied with our own affections and anxious about transitory things; seldom conquer even one fault, nor are zealous for daily growth in grace, remaining lukewarm and unspiritual. Were we watchful and not bound in spirit to outward things, we might be wise unto salvation and progress in Divine contemplation. Our stumbling-block is that, not freed from affections and desires, we strive not to enter the perfect way of the Saints; a little trouble casts us down and we fly to the world for comfort. If we quit ourselves like men and stand firm in battle, the Lord helps from Heaven, ready to aid those who strive and trust Him. If progress in religion is only outward observances and forms, devoutness soon ends; we must lay the axe to the root of our life, that cleansed from affections we may possess our souls in peace. If each year one fault were rooted out, we should quickly go on to perfection; instead we often feel better and holier at the beginning of conversion than after many years of profession. Zeal and progress ought to increase daily. Slight stress at the beginning makes all things afterward easy and joyful; it is hard to break a habit and harder to go against one’s own will, and if slight obstacles are not overcome, greater ones cannot be. Withstand the will at the beginning and unlearn evil habit lest it lead little by little into worse difficulties.
Adversity, Temptation, and the Discipline of the Soul
It is good sometimes to have sorrows and adversities, for they make a man lay to heart that he is only a stranger and sojourner and may not trust in any worldly thing.
Loving All Things in God Alone
The treatise turns to the ordering of love. Every person is to be loved for Jesus’ sake, but Jesus for His own sake, since He alone is good and faithful above all friends. For His sake and in Him, enemies and friends alike should be dear, and prayer made that all may come to know and love Him. No one should want to be specially praised or loved, since that belongs to God alone. A man must not set his heart on another or give himself over to the love of any creature; rather, let Jesus dwell in him and in every good man.
The soul, then, must be pure and free within, entangled by no created thing, bringing a bare and clean heart to God to see how gracious the Lord is. Unless grace prevents and draws a man, he cannot cast out all else and be united to God alone. When grace comes, he can do all things; when it departs, he is poor, weak, and given to troubles. He should not despair but rest calmly on God’s will and bear all things to the praise of Jesus Christ, for after winter comes summer, after night day, after tempest a great calm.
The Lack of All Comfort
Despising human comfort is easy when divine comfort is present, but it is a great thing to bear the loss of both human and divine comfort, willingly enduring exile of heart for love of God and seeking oneself in nothing. It is no great matter to be cheerful when favour comes and all rejoice; he rides pleasantly whom God’s grace carries. We willingly accept anything for comfort, and it is hard to be freed from oneself. The martyr Laurence overcame love of the world and of his priestly master, calmly suffering Sixtus, whom he dearly loved, to be taken from him; by love of the Creator he overcame love of man, choosing God’s good pleasure over human comfort. So a beloved friend should be resigned for God’s love, and one should not take it amiss when deserted, knowing all must part at last.
A man must strive mightily and long to overcome himself and draw all affection to God. Resting on self, he slips to human comforts; but a true lover of Christ desires hard exercises and severe labours for Him. When spiritual comfort is given, receive it with thanks, knowing it is God’s gift, not one’s desert; be not lifted up or presumptuous, but more humble and wary, for that hour will pass and temptation follow. When comfort is taken away, do not despair but wait for heavenly visitation with humility and patience, for God can give back greater consolation. This is nothing new to those who have tried God’s way, for with great saints and ancient prophets there was often this change.
One said in prosperity, “I said in my prosperity I shall never be moved,” but when favour departed he felt, “Thou didst turn Thy face from me, and I was troubled.” He did not despair but cried to God and received the fruit of prayer, his heaviness turned into joy. If this was so with great saints, the poor and needy ought not to despair when sometimes in warmth and sometimes in cold, for the Spirit comes and goes according to His good pleasure. Where then can one hope save in God’s great mercy? Godly brethren, faithful friends, holy books, sweet hymns—all help little when deserted by God’s favour. No better remedy than patience, denial of self, and abiding in God’s will. No saint so filled with rapture but that sooner or later he was tempted; temptation goes before as a sign of the comfort to follow, and heavenly comfort is promised to those proved by it. The devil sleeps not; the flesh is not yet dead; therefore cease not to prepare for battle, for enemies stand on the right hand and on the left.
Gratitude for the Grace of God
Why seek rest when born to labour? Prepare for patience more than comforts, for bearing the cross more than joy. Spiritual comforts exceed all worldly delights, which are empty or unclean, while spiritual delights alone are pleasant and honourable, offspring of virtue, poured by God into pure minds. But no man can always enjoy these divine comforts at his own will, because the season of temptation ceases not for long. Great is the difference between a visitation from above and false liberty of spirit and great confidence in self. God does well in giving grace of comfort, but man does ill in not immediately giving thanks.
Human Teachers and the Voice of God
Human teachers can utter words but not give the spirit; they speak beautifully but do not kindle the heart when God is silent. They give scriptures, but God makes known the sense; they bring mysteries, but God reveals what is signified; they utter commandments, but God helps fulfil them; they show the way, but God gives strength for the journey. They act outwardly; God instructs and enlightens the heart. They water; God gives the increase. Therefore the speaker asks that not Moses but the Lord, Eternal Truth, speak to him—lest he die fruitless, outwardly admonished but not inwardly enkindled, lest the word heard but not followed rise against him in judgment.
The Sweetness of God’s Word
God’s words are sweetest, surpassing philosophers and wise men; they are spirit and life, not weighed by human understanding, but heard in silence with humility and deep love. Blessed is the man whom God teaches and instructs in His law, giving rest in adversity. The Lord taught the prophets from the beginning and still speaks to all, but many are deaf and hardened, loving the world more than God. The world promises temporal, small things and is served eagerly; God promises great, eternal things, yet hearts are slow. A little reward prompts long journeys; for eternal life many will scarce lift a foot. The slothful servant should be ashamed: others are readier unto perdition than he unto life. God’s promise fails no one who trusts Him; He will fulfil what He said if a man remains faithful in love unto the end. God tells him to write His words in his heart, needful in temptation; what he does not understand when reading, he shall know in the time of visitation. God visits His elect twofold—by temptation and by comfort—teaching two lessons daily: chiding faults and exhorting to grow in grace.
Walking in Truth and Simplicity
God tells the Son to walk before Him in truth and simplicity of heart, seeking Him continually; such a one is safe from evil assaults, and truth delivers from the wiles of the wicked. If truth makes him free, he shall be free indeed, not caring for vain words of men. The speaker asks truth to teach, keep, and preserve him, freeing him from evil and inordinate affection. Truth says it will teach what is right: think upon sins with sorrow, never think oneself anything for good works. He is a sinner, liable to many passions, tied and bound; of himself he tends to nothing, quickly falls, is conquered, disturbed, undone. Nothing he does should seem great save what is eternal. Some walk not sincerely, led by curiosity and pride, desiring to know God’s secret things while neglecting themselves; these fall into great temptations because of pride and curiosity, for God is against them. He should fear God’s judgments, shrink from debating God’s works, but search narrowly his own iniquities. Some carry devotion only in books and outward signs; some have God in their mouths but little in their hearts. Others, enlightened and purged, continually long for eternal things, and these understand what the Spirit of truth speaks in them.
The Hidden Workings of Temptation and the Value of Adversity
The dialogue between the Lord and the disciple turns first to the nature of temptation. To be deceived by fancies, the Lord explains, is simply human weakness, the mark of a mind still too frail to resist the enemy’s suggestions. It hardly matters to that enemy whether he deceives by true means or false, whether he brings a soul down through love of the present or fear of the future. The heart, therefore, should refuse to be troubled or afraid; it should believe in God and trust His mercy. When the disciple feels farthest from God, God is often nearest; when he reckons nearly everything lost, the greater opportunity of gain is frequently at hand. Nothing is truly lost merely because something runs contrary to his wishes. He must not judge by present feeling, nor grieve as though all hope of escape had vanished, nor imagine himself wholly abandoned when God sends tribulation or withdraws some cherished consolation — for this is the road to the Kingdom of Heaven. Better to be proved by adversities than to have everything as one would wish. God knows the hidden thoughts of the heart and knows it is sometimes needful, for the soul’s health, to be left without relish, lest prosperity lift a man up. What God has given He can take away and restore at His good pleasure; when He gives, it remains His, and when He takes away, He has taken nothing that was ever the disciple’s own, for every good and perfect gift comes from Him. If He sends grief or vexation, the disciple should neither rage nor sulk, since God can swiftly lift him up and turn every burden into joy. Rightly considered, adversity should never cast a man down but rather move him to rejoice and give thanks, counting it the highest joy that God afflicts with sorrows and spares not. As the Father loved Christ, so He loves His disciples — sending them not to worldly joys but to great strivings, not to honours but to contempt, not to ease but to labour, not to rest but to bear much fruit with patience.
The Neglect of Every Creature
The disciple then asks for grace to arrive where neither man nor any creature can hinder him, since so long as anything holds him back he cannot freely fly to God. He who once cried out for the wings of a dove longed for exactly this flight. Nothing is more peaceful than the single eye, nothing freer than the man who desires nothing on earth. A man must rise above every creature, perfectly forsake himself, and with an abstracted mind behold that God, the Creator of all things, has among His creatures nothing like unto Himself. Unless freed from all creatures, he cannot reach freely after divine things, and few give themselves to contemplation because few know how to separate themselves entirely from perishing and created things. Much grace is needed to lift the soul above itself; unless a man be lifted up in the spirit, freed from all creatures, and altogether united to God, whatever he knows or has matters little. Whoever esteems anything great save the one incomprehensible, eternal good shall long remain little and lie low, for whatever is not God is nothing and ought to be counted as nothing. Great is the difference between a godly man illuminated with wisdom and a scholar learned in knowledge and given to books; nobler is the doctrine flowing down from the divine fulness above than that acquired laboriously by human study. Many desire contemplation but do not strive to practise what it requires. A great impediment is that much is made of symbols and external signs and too little of thorough mortification. We labour and fret over transitory, worthless things and scarcely ever gather our senses to think of our inward condition; after a little recollection we rush out of doors again and never subject our actions to strict examination. We take no heed where our affections are set, and we do not weep that all things belonging to us are so defiled. Because all flesh had corrupted itself upon the earth, the great deluge came; since our inmost affections are corrupt, our actions are corrupt too, being the index of deficient inward strength. Out of a pure heart proceeds the fruit of good living. We demand how much a man has done, but from how much virtue he acted is not so narrowly considered. We ask whether he be strong, rich, handsome, clever, a good writer, singer, or workman; but how poor in spirit, patient, gentle, devout, and meditative — on these many are silent. Nature looks upon outward appearance; grace turns its thought to the heart. The former frequently judges amiss; the latter trusts in God that it may not be deceived.
Self-Denial and the Casting Away of Selfishness
The Lord then tells the Son that he cannot possess perfect liberty unless he altogether denies himself. All are enslaved who are possessors of riches, who love themselves, the selfish, the curious, the restless; those who seek soft things rather than the things of Jesus Christ; those who continually plan and devise what will not stand. Whatever comes not of God shall perish. The short and complete saying is this: renounce all things, and thou shalt find all things; give up thy lust, and thou shalt find rest. Dwelling on this, one shall understand all things. The disciple protests that this is no work of a day nor children’s play — in this short saying is enclosed all the perfection of the religious life. The Lord answers that the disciple ought not to be turned aside or immediately cast down because he has heard the way of the perfect, but rather provoked to higher aims and at least to long after the desire thereof.
Approaching the Fountain of Mercy
The Disciple comes to God as a sick man to his Healer, a hungry man to the fountain of life, a beggar to the King of heaven, a servant to his Lord, a creature to its Creator, a desolate soul to its only Comforter. He asks how such a God should stoop to him, how a sinner dares appear. Confessing his vileness, he praises God’s tenderness and thanks Him for a love that acts for its own sake, not for any merit of his, so that divine goodness, charity, and humility may be shown. He asks that his iniquity not hinder the gift, and resolves that the best meditation is utter self-humiliation and the exaltation of God’s goodness. Christ is the Saint of saints, he the refuse of sinners; yet Christ stoops, comes, wills to be with him, invites him to His feast, and gives the living bread from heaven. He marvels that the Lord, very God and very man, gives Himself wholly in a little bread and wine as inexhaustible food, and urges his soul to rejoice, since each communion celebrates redemption and shares Christ’s merits, whose charity never lessens. Every communion should seem as fresh as Christ’s first descent into the Virgin’s womb or His dying on the cross.
Frequent Communion and Its Gifts
Frequent Communion is profitable: the Disciple comes to be blessed, recalling Zacchaeus and the children of Abraham; without God’s visitation he cannot live, and Christ would not send the crowd away fasting lest they faint. Frequent prayer, penitence, and reception renew him lest long abstinence undo his resolutions. The gifts to devout communicants are health of soul and body, medicine of spiritual sickness, bridled passions, conquered temptations, increased grace and virtue, firmed faith, strengthened hope, enkindled charity. Even angelic purity or the holiness of John the Baptist would not merit receiving or ministering the Sacrament; priests alone, rightly ordained, can consecrate. Asked for teaching on preparation, the Disciple is told to examine his conscience, show contrition, confess, and amend; to offer himself wholly as Christ offered Himself on the Cross; to offer self, sins, goodness, and prayers for all, including enemies. Communion is not lightly to be omitted.
The Enemy’s Wiles and the Remedy of Confession
The faithful are urged to have frequent recourse to the fountain of grace and divine mercy for healing of passions and strength against temptation. The enemy, knowing the strong remedy in Holy Communion, strives to draw them back; when some prepare to communicate, they suffer more evil suggestions from Satan, who comes among the sons of God to trouble them, make them timid, diminish their affections, or take away faith, hoping they will give up Communion or approach lukewarmly. His wiles must be cast back on his own head, despised and laughed to scorn; Communion must not be omitted because of his insults. Too much carefulness, anxiety, or scruple about confession hinders devotion; one should follow wise counsel, lay aside anxiety, confess promptly, forgive offences, and humbly beg pardon of anyone offended. Deferring confession or Communion profits nothing; one should cleanse oneself forthwith, spit out the poison, hasten to the remedy, for delaying brings greater obstacles, torpor, and unfitness. Some lukewarm, undisciplined persons find excuses to delay repentance lest they must watch themselves more strictly. Happy is he who lives so purely he could communicate any day. Abstaining for humility or sound cause is commendable, but drowsiness should be roused. When hindered by sufficient cause, a good will and pious intention suffice; any devout man can daily draw near to spiritual communion with Christ. On appointed days one should receive the Body and Blood with reverence, seeking God’s praise rather than his own comfort, communicating mystically whenever calling to mind Christ’s incarnation and Passion. He who prepares only for festivals will often be unprepared. One should not be too slow or hurried, but observe received custom, serving others’ profit rather than his own devotion.
The Blessedness of the Devout Soul
The Disciple praises the blessedness of the devout soul feeding with Christ, desiring to water His feet with tears like the pious Magdalene. He possesses and adores Him whom Angels adore, by faith, until eternal brightness dawns; when perfection comes, Sacraments cease, for the Blessed need no sacramental remedy. Two things are necessary: food and light—Christ’s sacred Body and Blood, and His Word as a lantern. These are two tables in the Church’s treasury: the Sacred Altar and the Divine Law. Thanks are given for the table of holy doctrine furnished by Prophets, Apostles, and teachers, and for the great supper where Christ’s own Body and Blood are set forth. The priestly office is great and honourable; priests’ hands, mouth, body, and heart must be pure, for the Law says, “Be ye holy, for I the Lord your God am holy.” The chapter closes asking grace to converse worthily, or at least to lament sins and serve more earnestly.
The Beloved’s Voice: Purity and Watchfulness
The Beloved is the Lover of purity, seeking a pure heart; the soul must purge out old leaven, shut out the world, sit alone like a sparrow, and think on transgressions. No preparation by merit suffices, even a whole year’s; only God’s tenderness and grace permit approach, as a beggar called to a rich man’s dinner. One should do what lies in him with fear, reverence, and affection. If devotion is given, give thanks; if dry, persist in prayer, groaning and knocking until obtaining some crumb of grace. God has no need of man; man comes to be sanctified. Watchfulness after Communion is as needed as preparation before; returning immediately to outward consolations makes one indisposed to good. Beware much speaking; remain secret, holding communion with God.
Yearning for Union and the Grace of Devotion
The Disciple yearns to find Christ alone, open all his heart, and enjoy Him, no creature moving him, so that beloved speaks to beloved. He longs to be wholly united, withdrawn from created things, learning through Holy Communion to relish heavenly things. Christ is the Beloved, choicest among ten thousand, Peacemaker, a God that hidest Himself, whose Word is with the humble. No other nation has gods drawing near as Thou, our God, present to all faithful ones, giving Thyself as food. The Christian people is most renowned; the devout soul is fed with Christ’s glorious flesh. The best reward is to give one’s heart wholly to God and be inwardly joined to Him. The Disciple recalls devout persons who draw near the Sacrament with deepest devotion, weeping and panting after God, unable to be satisfied save by receiving His Body. He is confounded that he approaches so carelessly and coldly, and asks Jesus to grant him sometimes to feel, in Holy Communion, a little of the cordial affection of His love, that faith, hope, and charity may grow. Though he burns not so vehemently, through grace he desires that greatly inflamed desire, praying to be partaker with those who fervently love God.
Waiting on God’s Visitation
The Beloved says one ought to seek earnestly the grace of devotion, ask fervently, wait patiently, receive gratefully, preserve humbly, work diligently, leaving to God the time and manner of visitation. One should humble oneself when feeling little devotion, not grieving excessively.
Key Ideas
The imitation of Christ. The governing idea of the whole work: Christ’s life is not merely to be admired but copied, and the measure of progress is conformity to Him rather than accumulation of knowledge or reputation.
Humility and self-knowledge. Thinking lowly of oneself is the highest lesson. He who knows himself well is vile in his own sight, and a lowly knowledge of self is a surer road to God than deep learning.
Contempt of the world and its vanities. All is vanity save to love God and serve Him only. It is vanity to trust in perishable riches, to covet honours, to follow fleshly desires, to desire long life with little care for a good one, and to love what passes away.
The inward life. The kingdom of God is within you. Outward observances and forms, if they are all, soon lose their savour; the axe must be laid to the root of the life, and the heart prepared as a mansion for Christ.
Compunction and solitude. Silence and retirement are the workshop of the devout soul. In the chamber, with the door shut and the tumults of the world excluded, one finds what one repeatedly loses abroad; the soul learns the hidden things of Scripture and grows dearer to its Maker the further it dwells from distraction.
The uses of adversity and the necessity of temptation. Sorrows and contradictions keep a man humble and shield him from vain-glory. No one is so holy as never to be tempted, and no one is worthy of the great vision of God who has not been exercised by trial. Temptation goes before as a sign of the comfort to follow.
Resignation to the will of God. The disciple is to cast all care upon God, to be content with whatever happens, neither rejoicing greatly in much nor sorrowing in little, committing himself wholly to the One to whom nothing perishes or dies.
The royal way of the Holy Cross. Book Two’s closing chapters hold that few love the cross of Jesus, yet it is the road to the kingdom; the disciple is told to prepare for patience more than for comforts, and for bearing the cross more than for joy.
Themes
The book is best read as a manual of spiritual discipline rather than a work of theology, and its recurring concern is the gap between what a person knows and what a person is. Its warnings fall most heavily on the learned, the curious, and the self-satisfied—those who inquire into deep questions while neglecting themselves, who carry devotion in books and pictures and outward signs while God sits lightly in the heart. Against them the treatise sets the single-hearted, the obedient, the silent, and the patient.
A second thread is the instability of all consolation. Spiritual comfort comes and goes at God’s pleasure; the soul that has been lifted up must expect the hour of testing, and the soul in desolation must not despair but wait. The book returns again and again to this rhythm of visitation and withdrawal, drawing on the Psalms and on Job to show that even the great saints knew both warmth and cold. What is asked of the reader is not perpetual sweetness but fidelity—patience, denial of self, and abiding in God’s will whether the light shines or not.
Running through everything is a steady distrust of the self. A man’s most grievous enemy is himself; the outward foe is quickly overcome if the inner man has not been laid low. Self-love, private advantage, the craving for praise, the itch to be seen and known—these are the real obstacles, and the remedy is the narrow way of lowly subjection, hiddenness, and the renunciation of every creature so that the Creator may be found.
Why It Matters
The book endures because it refuses to flatter. It tells the reader that time lost does not return, that a slight stress at the beginning makes everything afterward easy, and that a single fault rooted out each year would quickly lead to perfection—yet most people feel holier at the start of their conversion than after many years of profession. That plainness, and its refusal to confuse information with transformation, is why it has been read for six centuries by people who are not scholars and do not wish to be.
Its appeal also lies in its form. The chapters are brief enough to be taken one at a time, and much of the third book is cast as dialogue between Christ and the disciple, so that the reader is drawn into conversation rather than lectured. The prayers that close several chapters—the disciple asking God to fill his heart with grace, to teach him His will, to let him know what ought to be known and love what ought to be loved—give the work a warmth that its sternness might otherwise hide.
And it endures because its central question has not aged. Whether a life is measured by what it has read and acquired or by what it has become is still an open question for anyone who picks up the book, and à Kempis answers it without hesitation. What each one is in God’s eyes, he says, so much he is, and no more.
