Part 7

"And that," she said, "I have long desired, and now at last thou hast given me my desire...."

The parable proceeds to relate the service of each handmaiden bestowed by Love upon the soul, first True Repentance--then the maiden called Humility--Gentleness--Obedience, Tenderness (who was to give her help in tending the sick, and in making coarse food and hard labour sweet to her who served). Then came the "beloved damsel" Purity, then Patience, Holiness, Hope, and the "glorious and holy maiden called Faith." Then Watchfulness, Moderation, Contentment, "the dear maiden who made the hard bed soft, and the coarse food pleasant." Then the mistress of the maidens, Wisdom, and a "maiden unwillingly praised," called Bashfulness. And lastly came Fear and Constancy.

And these all being ready to serve, the soul gave thanks, "O thou dear Love of God, I thank Thee that Thou hast brought to me so many helpers on my way to heaven." And the soul saw how all the saints and angels bowed down in the wonderful glory of God, because all they were, and all they did, was a gift of grace from God to them. "The saints kneel down and bow themselves before God in blessed love, and in joyful longing. They thank God that His grace was ready and waiting to bring them through this earthly need, and to bear their sorrows."

Four Things that Belong to Faith.

That we believe in Christ as God, loving God from the heart, truly confessing Jesus Christ, and faithfully following His teaching even unto death. I think that in these four things we find eternal life.

But our faith must be a Christian faith, not the faith of Jews, or of unbelieving Christians, who also profess to believe in one God, but who believe not in the holy works which He has wrought. His work they despise, as we grieve to know. But for us, our belief is that God sent His only-begotten Son into the world, and that it was His Will to do so. We believe in the work and death of our Lord Jesus Christ, whereby He has redeemed our souls. We believe in the Holy Ghost, who has perfected our blessedness in the Father and in the Son, and who brings forth in us all the works that are pleasing to God.

From a Friend to a Friend.

Great and overflowing is the love of God, that never standeth still, but floweth on for ever and without ceasing, with no labour or effort, but freely and fully, so that our little vessel is full and over-full. If we do not stop the channel by our self-will it will never slacken in its flowing, but the gift of God will ever make our cup to run over.

Lord, Thou art full of grace, and therewith Thou fillest us. But Thou art great, and we are small, how then can we receive that which Thou givest? Lord, whilst Thou givest to us, it is for us to give to others. Truly our vessel that Thou hast filled is a small one, but a small one can be emptied and filled anew, till it has filled a large one.

The great vessel is full sufficiency of grace, but we, alas! are so small, that one little word from God, one little verse of the Holy Scriptures, so fills us, that we can contain no more. Let us then empty forth the little vessel into the great vessel, that is, God. How are we to do this? We should pour forth that which we have received in holy longing and desire for the salvation of sinners. Then will the little vessel be filled again. Let us empty it forth anew on the imperfections of the people of God, that they may fight more valiantly, and may become perfected in grace. Let us pour it forth in holy pity for the need of the Christian Church, that is sunk so deeply in sin.

God has first loved us, first laboured for us, first suffered for us, let us therefore be followers of Him, and restore to Him in the way that I have described that which He gave. Our Lord suffered for us unto death, but a very small suffering of ours seems great to us. But the thoughts of God and those of the loving soul meet together, as the air and the sunlight are mingled by the mighty power of God in sweet union, so that the sun overcomes the frost and the darkness, one knows not how. It comes all and alone from the sun. So comes our blessedness from the joy of God. God grant us, and preserve to us, this blessedness! Amen.

Something of Paradise.

It was shown to me, and in my mind I saw, what manner of place is Paradise. Of its breadth and length I could see no end. First came I to a place that was between this world and the beginning of Paradise.

There saw I trees with much shade and fair green grass, but weeds were there none. Some trees bore fruit, but most of them only beautiful and sweet smelling leaves. Swift streams of water divided the ground, and warm south winds moved onward towards the north. In the waters were mingled earthly sweetness and heavenly delight. The air was sweet and soft beyond all words. Yet were no birds or beasts in that place; for God had prepared it for men only, that they might be there in stillness and in peace.... I saw a twofold Paradise. It is of the earthly one that I have spoken. The heavenly Paradise is in the heights above, and shields the earthly from all harm. But of the heavenly Paradise Matilda only says that it is for a time, and that it is the place wherein the souls who have had no purgatory await the Kingdom of the Lord, "they move in sweet delight, as the air moves in the sunshine," and will one day have their crowns of glory, and will reign with Christ.

The End of the Journey.

It was evident to Matilda that her end was near. Her age was what would be called old age in the Middle Ages, when life was so much shorter than in our time. "I asked the Lord," she said, "how I should conduct myself in these last days of my life. He answered me, 'Thou shouldst do in thy last days as in thy first days. Love and longing, repentance and fear, these four things were the beginning of thy course, and must therefore be the end also.'

"Then said I, 'Beloved Lord, where, then, are the two things that are the foundation and crown of heavenly blessedness, where are faith and full assurance?'

"Then said our Lord, 'Thy faith becometh knowledge, and thy longing is turned into full assurance.' This I understood from the speaking of the Lord to me, and I know it also in my heart.

"I am a wonder to myself, and am indeed a wonder. For when I think of death, my soul rejoices so mightily in the thought of going forth from earthly life, that my body is lulled, as it were, in an inexpressible supernatural quietness, soft and sweet, and my mind is awakened to see the unspeakable wonders that attend the going forth of the soul. Meanwhile I would desire most to die at the time which God has before appointed. Yet at the same time I would willingly live till the last great day. And my heart longs oftentimes to live in the days of the martyrs, that I might shed my sinful blood in true Christian faith for Jesus my Beloved.

"That I dare to say I love God, is a gift of His pure grace. For it is when my sins and sufferings are before my eyes that my soul begins to burn in the fire of the true love of God, and the sweetness is so surpassing, that even my body shares in the Divine blessedness. I write this as it were by compulsion, for I would rather hold my peace, because I live in fear and dread of secret tendency to vainglory. Yet I am more afraid, when God has been so gracious to me, that I, poor and empty as I am, have kept silence too often and too long.

"From my childhood onwards I was troubled with fear, dread, and constant sorrow of heart in thinking of my end. Now in my last days God has given me peace. And I have said to Him, 'Lord, it likes me well to think of the light and blessedness of thy heavenly glory, of which I am so unworthy, but I still have a great fear as to how my soul shall pass from my body.' And the Lord answered, 'It shall be thus--I draw My breath, and the soul will follow on to Me, as the needle to the magnet stone.'"

And again she prayed that at that last moment the Lord would come to her, as "the dearest Friend," as the "Confessor," as the Father.

"O Lord, I pray, when dawneth the last day These weary eyes shall see, Come as a father to his darling child, And take me home to Thee."

In these prayers and longings we find no thought of purgatory. Yet as an article of her creed Matilda believed in it. Nor did any thought of superior holiness make her overlook it in her own case. But the true spiritual instinct of the new nature was stronger than the force of education and of the authority of the Church. How true is it that in spiritual matters the head is no match for the heart.

So in the case of saint-worship--Matilda had never renounced it, yet we see her heart turn instinctively to God, as the needle to the pole.

The waiting time was one of suffering, but cheered by the love and tenderness of the sisters, who delighted to wait upon her.

"Thus does a beggar woman speak in her prayers to God--Lord, I thank Thee that since in Thy love Thou hast taken from me all earthly riches, Thou now feedest and clothest me by the means of others; for everything which I can now call my own, and all that gives joy to my heart, must now come to me from strangers.

"Lord, I thank Thee that since Thou hast taken away the power of sight from mine eyes, Thou hast appointed other eyes to serve me. Lord, I thank Thee that since Thou hast taken the strength from my hands, Thou servest me with other hands. Lord, I thank Thee that since Thou hast taken away the strength of my heart, Thou servest me now by the hearts of strangers. Lord, I pray Thee reward them here on earth with Thy divine love, and grant to them to serve Thee faithfully till they reach a blessed end."

The Last Poem.

_Thus speaks the suffering body to the patient soul._

With the wings of longing when wilt thou fly To the hills of the glorious land on high, To Christ thine eternal love? Thank Him for me, though vile I be, That His grace for me hath a share; That He took our sorrows and felt our need, That we are His love and care. Ask Him, that safe in his tender Hand In sweet rest I may lie, When we part at the bounds of the pilgrim land, Thou, soul and I.

_Then doth the Soul make answer._

I thank thee that thou on the pilgrim road Hast been my comrade true; Often wert thou a weary load, Yet didst thou bear me through. When the Day shall come that is to dawn Shall all thy sorrows be past and gone; Therefore let us give thanks and praise, For His love who guarded us all our days, And for hope of the joy that is to be, For thee and me.

How did Matilda die? We know no more. Her death is mentioned in the _Mechthild Book_, Matilda von Hackeborn being one of those present at her death. But, alas! as it often happens in the search for mediaeval facts, we are met instead by a relation of visions and dreams. Matilda von Hackeborn tells us no more than how she beheld in a vision the departure of the soul of her namesake.[11]

The difficulty is to realise that in these imaginary histories we are reading the writings of some who, like Matilda of Hackeborn, had, in spite of their visions, real intercourse with God.

That Matilda of Magdeburg had this true intercourse, based upon the written Word of God, that she was one of those of whom the Lord Jesus said, "I will love him, and will manifest Myself to him," there can be no doubt in any Christian mind. It was the time of the conflict of light with darkness, of the prejudices of early education with the experiences of communion with the living God. The heart received much that contradicted the nominal belief, and this inconsistency was not remarked by the recipient of the truth, because the mind was not called upon to act in the matter. It was left in inert subjection to the teaching of the Church.

When nearly three hundred years later the mind asserted its rights, and the Reformers gave at length Scriptural proofs of that which the "Friends of God" had experienced, all might have been well. But, alas! the weight was shifted to the other side, and that which had been a matter of the heart became after a while a matter of the reason, to be discussed and assented to by those who had no heart in the question. We have to suffer for this in our days. Let us learn not to be contented with proofs in black and white, valuable as they are. We need that communion of heart with God by the power of the Holy Ghost, which needs no proof, and which is the only remedy for our lukewarmness, our worldliness, and our joylessness.

The Nun Gertrude.

It is of interest to trace in the convent of Hellfde the results of the work and the teaching of the Abbess Gertrude and of the Beguine Matilda. It was not in vain that the abbess had given to the Scriptures such a place of honour, and had so diligently studied them, and insisted upon their study. Nor was it in vain that Matilda of Magdeburg had spoken and written of the free grace of God, and of the love of Christ that passeth knowledge.

This teaching was the beginning of a stream of life and light, which became deeper and wider as it flowed along. And we find in the next book written in the convent a clearer and fuller confession of the truth. This book, written in part by the Nun Gertrude, in part by an unnamed sister, consists of five separate books, together called _Insinuationes divinae pietatis_. Of four of these books little can be said, except that they consist chiefly of the visions and revelations of the authoress, and accounts of visions seen by the Nun Gertrude. It is in the second of the five books, the only one written by Gertrude herself, that we find that which repays the trouble of sifting the true from the false, and the gems of marvellous lustre from the dust-heaps in which they lie buried.

A translation of some of the most remarkable passages in this second book has already been given, as mentioned above, in the book, "Trees Planted by the River." But a few more short extracts will perhaps add to the proof of Gertrude's clear and simple trust in Christ, as revealed in the Gospel.

"When I consider," she writes, "the character of my life from the beginning and onwards I have to confess in truth it is a history of nothing but grace, grace without the smallest deserving on the part of one so unworthy as I am. For Thou didst of Thy free grace bestow upon me clearer light in the knowledge of Thyself, and Thou didst lead me on by the alluring sweetness of Thy love and kindness. I was more attracted by Thy love, than I could have been driven by the punishment which, on the part of Thy holy justice, was due to me."

"The great power and sound strength of Gertrude's mind," writes Preger, "could not allow her to satisfy herself with the visions in which she had a share. She sought a firmer foothold for her new life, a source which should lastingly and invariably satisfy her inmost being. And with the whole energy of the mind, which had formerly been absorbed in secular learning, she gave herself to the study of the Holy Scriptures, and of such commentaries as she could find to explain them, amongst others those of Augustine and Bernard.

"How deeply she felt the value of the treasures laid up for her in the Scriptures, we learn from the joyful inspiration which filled her soul when reading them. 'She could not,' writes the unnamed nun, 'drink in enough each day of the wonderful sweetness she found in meditating on the Word of God, and in searching for the hidden light which she found in it. It was sweeter to her than honey, and more lovely than the sound of the organ, and consequently it seemed as though her heart was filled with an almost unceasing joy.'

"'She copied out from the Scriptures and from commentators whole books of extracts, which she wrote for the convent sisters; and was often employed from early in the morning till late at night in endeavouring to write explanations of difficult passages, so as to render them more intelligible to her sisters. For it was a part of her nature to lead on others in the same path, and to work for those around her, so as to exercise a wholesome influence, forming them and helping them.

"'She also provided other convents which had few books with extracts from the Bible. Thus the Scriptures were the Alpha and Omega of her thoughts. All her reflections, warnings, and consolations had a Bible passage as their source. It was astonishing, her friend said, how invariably the right word from the Scriptures was ready to hand in each case; and whether she reproved or counselled, she made use of the witness of Holy Scripture as that which no one might dare to gainsay.

"'This universal tendency of her mind to draw others into the enjoyment of that which she possessed, and to work for this end, explains how instantly and willingly she would tear herself away from silent contemplation, to use any occasion that presented itself for active work for others. To return to contemplation again was then easy for her.'

"We perceive from this remark the breadth, and at the same time the strength, of her mind, as well as the harmony of her inner and outer life. This is not contradicted by the fact that her friend mentions as her chief fault a certain impatience and vehemence, for which she often blamed herself. It arose from her strong impulse to work for others."

Preger further remarks: "It was in the ninth year after her conversion, 1289 and 1290, that she wrote that remarkable book which forms the second of the five books of the _Insinuationes_. It consists of confessions in forcible language, from the heights of the strongest feeling and the clearest perception. At the same time, the great gifts with which she was endowed shine the more brightly from their accompaniment of the most touching humility. This book, together with her 'Practices of Piety,' a book of prayers, belong to the most beautiful products of mystical literature.

"In her case, a progress from legal bondage to ever-increasing liberty of spirit is clearly marked. When once her new spiritual life had had its beginning in evangelical faith, it followed from the strength and wholesome soundness of her mind, that the unfolding of this spiritual freedom should proceed in spite of the opposition of religious tradition, and should prove victorious. It is of the greatest interest to trace this progress as far as we have the means of doing so."

This onward path from asceticism, self-chastisement, and bitter sorrow over the fallen Church, to calm and happy communion with Christ, was remarked by others, and the passage from bondage to liberty was a cause of joyful thanksgiving to herself.

"At all times," writes her anonymous friend, "she rejoiced in such assured confidence, that neither calamity, nor loss, nor any other hindrance, nay, not even her sins or shortcomings, could overcloud it; for she had always the full and firm assurance of the rich grace and mercy of God. If she felt herself stained by daily sins, it was her custom to take refuge at the feet of Christ, to be washed in His Blood from all spot and stain."

It will be remarked that Gertrude had not yet fully apprehended the great truth that the worshipper once purged has no more conscience of sin, that "by one offering Christ hath perfected for ever them that are sanctified," and that for this reason there is no repetition of sacrifice. For "without _shedding_ of Blood is no remission," and the Blood of expiation once shed, can be shed no more for ever.

But it may be that Gertrude, like many now, confused the recalling of that blood-shedding which put away sin, a recalling which gives comfort when we feel that we have sinned afresh, with the actual cleansing, once and for ever, in the precious Blood of Christ--the actual cleansing never to be repeated, but the comfort and peace founded upon it a constant experience, which the heart may rejoice in on every fresh occasion of the confession of sin.

"When she felt," continues her friend, "the marvellous power of the grace of God, she did not betake herself to penances, but, committing herself freely to the drawing of that grace, she yielded herself as an instrument for loving service, free to receive all that God gave, and to be used by Him for His work."

It is further remarked that she looked upon God's gift of grace in His Son as so immeasurable and marvellous, that all human endeavour and doings vanished to a point when compared with it, and were not worth mentioning.

And with regard to her own assurance of faith, she saw that also was a gift of God's free grace bestowed on her in spite of her undeservings. It would seem as if this strong faith and sense of God's unutterable love, had led her entirely beyond the land of bondage in which her fellow-Christians were living. She was as a child at liberty in the Father's home.

On one occasion when taking a walk, she fell down a steep place, and getting up unhurt, she said, "O my beloved Jesus, how well it had been for me had that fall brought me quickly home to Thee!" And when the sisters who were with her said in wonderment, "Would you not be afraid to die without the sacrament?" she answered, "I would desire the sacrament if I were dying, but far, far more do I desire the will of my God and His appointment for me. That is the best preparation for death; for however I die, my hope is in the mercy that will never fail me. Without that I should be lost, whether I died suddenly, or with a sure knowledge beforehand that the time was come."

For she no longer regarded herself as apart from Christ, but as in Him, and as one in whom He dwelt, and therefore looked upon herself as belonging to Him, and, consequently, instead of mortifying her body, she looked upon taking food or rest as something done for the Lord.

"Not," says Preger, "that in regard to others she had fully cast aside the prevailing belief in the merit of works, but in her own case she saw but her own sin and God's free grace. And with regard to the works of others, she considered no value attached to them if they were done with a view to reward. Those good works, she said, which people do from habit, have a black mark set against them; those done for Christ's sake, and by His power, a red mark. But the red mark has a black mark across it, if there is any thought of gaining merit by those works. They have a golden mark when they are done simply for His honour, with no other aim in view."

It should be remarked also that Gertrude entertained strong misgivings with regard to the common practices of exciting devotion by appeals to the senses. The erection of mangers at Christmas, and the representations in pictures and images of the sufferings and the death of Christ, appeared to her useless and dangerous. She feared that true personal intercourse with God in the Spirit and in truth, would be hindered by these means.

Nor did she share the devotion of her contemporaries to relics of any sort. "The Lord has shown me," she said, "that the most worthy relics which remain of Him are His Words."

"In such a soul," writes Preger, "in which Christ was so entirely the central point, it was natural that Mary should recede into the background. It is true that the spirit of the age was not wanting in the influence brought to bear upon her, and the cult of Mary does not disappear, therefore, from the pages of her book. But she tells us that she was filled with bitter grief when, on one of the festivals of the Virgin, she heard a sermon which contained nothing but the praises of Mary, and of the value of the Incarnation of the Lord not a word. After this sermon, as she passed by the altar of the Virgin, she could not feel in her heart the sweet devotion to her which she had sometimes known. She was roused into a sort of displeasure with Mary herself, because she seemed to her to stand in the way of her Beloved."