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No little stir was
occasioned in Mulheim when the young merchant Gerhard Tersteegen,
retired from his business and took up lodgings in an isolated
cottage, in order to search after God. For some years his
relatives and friends left the youthful twenty-two year old to
his odd quest. Another young man, many hundreds of years before
him, had retired from his active life in the city of Jerusalem
to the Arabian desert, where he too was to be initiated into the
deep things of God. And Gerhard Tersteegen, like St. Paul, was
to share the secrets that he learned in his "Arabia", with the
sin-burdened and the sorrowing, the hungry and dissatisfied
souls. These yearned for soul-food instead of the intellectual
rationalizing of formal ministry.
Gerhard would have
given as his reason for this escape from social and business
contacts, the conviction that his barque was too frail to
successfully outride the currents of the world about him. His
seven brothers and sisters, save one who had entered the
ministry, were intent upon making money. When this youngest
member of their family turned his back upon good business
opportunities, to live simply and frugally they were chagrined
that his name was not mentioned among them. When his mother
died, he was not invited to the gathering where the family
divided the assets.
The young man's
father, Heinrich Tersteegen, died when the child was very small.
He was a pious merchant and a member of the Reformed Church.
Letters found after his death, revealed that he had been in
touch with the spiritual movement, gathering momentum at that
time. Gerhard was born in Mohr in the valley of the Rhine in
1697, just six years prior to the advent of John Wesley into
Epworth Rectory in England.
Germany at the time
of Tersteegen's birth, was still suffering from the devastation
which resulted from the thirty years struggle between the
Protestants and Catholics. Twelve million of her population had
perished during this period of bloodshed. Whole villages had
been pillaged and burned; fields and orchards lay waste. In
Leipsig, in 1686, not a single Bible or New Testament could be
found in any bookseller's shop. The Reformed Church had come to
be designated the "Deformed Church" and the Lutheran Church had
succumbed to dead rites and ceremonies until those who sought to
revive the spiritual life were accounted heretics.
God had His
witnesses, however, -- torches alight with divine fire, who were
to illumine this darkness. Labardie, Spener, Hockmann and others
sought to rouse the apathetic populace to a sense of need. They
strove to transfer religion from the icy region of the head to
the warmer clime of the heart, and went everywhere seeking to
form a Church within the Church by instituting prayer meetings
and Bible studies.
Thee messengers
proclaimed four distinguishing doctrines:
1. Self-renunciation
- the complete giving up of self-will to the will of God.
2. The continuous activity of the Spirit of God in all
believers, and the intimate union possible between God and man.
3. The worthlessness of all religion based upon fear or hope of
reward.
4. The essential equality of laity and clergy, though for the
sake of order and discipline the organization of the church was
necessary.
Mulheim (home of the
mill) had been one of the centers from which this spiritual
blessing had radiated. Labardie had taken up his residence here,
and had laboured for its welfare. William Hoffman, a deeply
spiritual young theological student, who was to influence
Gerhard, also resided there. He favoured the cause of the
Pietists and so was suspected by the churchmen who feared he
would draw away members from the church.
In the providence of
God, Mulheim was to be the home of Gerhard for most of his life.
But we must go back to the young man's early career in order to
trace his footsteps thither. Having finished grammar school,
where he had distinguished himself by studious habits and a
natural aptitude for languages, he was forced to give up
thoughts of furthering his education. The straitened
circumstances of his widowed mother made such a course
impossible, and so it was that he became apprenticed to his
brother-in-law who was a merchant in this mill town.
These were hard
years for the young lad. His employer was rigid in his
discipline and had little sympathy for the boy's meditative and
studious disposition. The few hours he craved for study were
denied him, and he was asked to roll empty casks backwards and
forwards across the courtyard when no duties were required to be
done. But Gerhard had little taste for keeping accounts, writing
business letters and selling goods. He was, however, very
grateful in after years for the disciplinary value of this
training.
It was during this
interval of apprenticeship that Gerhard came to know the
pardoning grace of God. Numbers of forces had been at work in
his young life. A godly weaver residing in Mulheim did much to
influence him. The conventicles held in the district were
attended by him, and it was perhaps here that he was awakened,
under the preaching of William Hoffman, to a sense of deep
dissatisfaction. Conscience-stricken, Gerhard would go about his
toil, waiting for the time when he could snatch a few minutes
for prayer. Whole nights he engaged in his search, and his
groans and tears were heard in the courts of Heaven. Although
Hoffman pointed the youth to the Rest-giver, it was not until
passing through the woods of Duisburg on a long journey, when
the young apprentice, gripped with pain and fever and fearing he
would die unprepared, met God. His pain and fever vanished, and
he rose with a heart overflowing with gratitude toward God Whom
he wished to serve devotedly. Of this time he wrote: "I heartily
rejoice, whenever I see a prodigal son coming to himself, and
arising to go to his Father. I also was a swineherd once, and
when, after a thousand threatenings and invitations, I came at
length, as I was, to become what I was not, I needed only to beg
and wait a little while. I was infinitely more graciously
received, than I could have hoped or expected."
For several years
after serving his apprenticeship, the young man ventured forth
in business on his own. But he had little relish for the
avaricious, competitive world of commerce. A godly merchant
offered to teach him linen-weaving, but the work proved too
heavy, occasioning severe headaches. Instead he took up
ribbon-weaving in his rented lodgings where he could work with
his Bible open before him, enjoying the uninterrupted hours of
quiet. He laboured long at his weaving, eating but one meal a
day and seeing no one save the small girl who came to wind his
silk. Under cover of darkness, he would visit the sick and poor,
giving liberally what he could ill afford of his scanty means.
In a letter years later, he reminisces on some of his
experiences as illness struck his weakened frame. "I have known
the time when I knew not where I should find food for the next
day, and was without a friend who was acquainted with my
situation. I was at work from five in the morning til nine in
the evening, and occasionally I lay ten or twelve weeks in bed
on the loft, without those with whom I lodged giving themselves
the trouble to send one of their none-too-busy servants to give
me a drink of water. But I always thought there was a necessity
for this."
For five long years,
the young recluse experienced great darkness as the sense of
God's approval was withdrawn. He seemed assailed by doubts as to
whether God even existed, as he observed the fanaticism into
which many professed followers were drawn. The divisions which
rent the church distressed him, as well as the apostasy of some
who had once experienced divine favour. Although he read some of
the deepest spiritual books, he was only confused by the varied
opinions and the deep mazes of thought. He abandoned Behman's
books for, said he, "Read them till I was filled with strange
fears and bewilderment. At last I took the books back to their
owner, and it was like a weight lifted off my heart."
Some of Tersteegen's
biographers hint that the five years of darkness may have been
occasioned by his secluding himself instead of sharing his
newly-found faith. The mature man of God, looking back on those
years, felt such an experience was invaluable.
"Our Lord Jesus was
silent and kept Himself concealed for thirty years, in order
that by His example, He might inspire us with a fondness for a
truly retired life, and scarcely did He spend four years in a
public manner. I often think, if we that are awakened, would
endure only four years of probation, in silent mortification and
prayer, before we shewed ourselves publicly, our subsequent
activity would be a little purer, and less injurious to the
kingdom of God. This is a secret, but common temptation of the
enemy, and a subtle device of the flesh, by which the tempter
seeks to allure us from the one thing needful, and to weaken our
strength by the multiplicity of the objects in which we are
engaged. But the flesh and its progeny, which finds a life of
mortification too strait for it, and too disagreeable, may
breathe very easily, and even maintain itself, in every outward
spiritual and apparently profitable exercise, whilst in the
meantime the mystery of iniquity at the bottom, remains
unperceived and unmortified."
It was just the day
before Good Friday, that the twenty-seven year old seeker
entered into an enlarged place, the cries and entreaties of the
past years being abundantly answered. He came to realize that
the life of crucifixion with Christ was not to be one he could
learn by instruction save by that of the Holy Spirit.
"It is a small thing
with Him to cause us to find in our souls in one moment without
trouble, that which we may have sought externally for years with
much labour."
The long night of
darkness and uncertainty was past. While journeying to another
city, the Savior, as the all-sufficient One, appeared to the
young man and rose upon his horizon like the day-star from on
high.
"It was as if a sick
child were alone, and far away in the dark night, when suddenly
the door was opened, and father and mother and all the loved
ones came in, and the long, lonely hours were over, and all was
love."
There by the
roadside, Tersteegen dedicated himself to the Lord. He was
lifted on to a new plane where God was henceforth the One and
only Good. He had learned that "Jesus alone is sufficient, but
yet insufficient, when He is not wholly and solely embraced."
Returning from his journey, he sat down in the quiet of his own
room and wrote out a covenant of love with blood drawn from his
own veins.
"My Jesus, I own
myself to be Thine, my only Savior and Bridegroom. Christ Jesus,
I am Thine wholly and eternally. From this evening onward, I
renounce from my heart all right and authority that Satan
unrighteously gave me over myself. From this evening - the
evening on which Thou, my Bridegroom, through Thy precious
blood, didst purchase me for Thyself, agonising even unto death,
praying till Thy sweat was as it were blood falling to the
ground, that I might be Thy treasure and Thy bride—Thou hast
burst the gates of hell and opened to me the loving heart of the
Father! From this evening onward my heart and all my love are
offered up to Thee in eternal thankfulness."
"From this evening,
to all eternity, Thy will, not mine, be done! Command and rule
and reign in me. I yield myself up without reserve, and I
promise, with Thy help and power, rather to give up the last
drop of this my blood than knowingly and willingly, in my heart
or in my life, be untrue or disobedient to Thee. Behold, Thou
hast me wholly and completely, sweet Friend of my soul. Thou
hast the love of my heart for Thyself and for none other. They
Spirit be my keeper; Thy death the rock of my assurance. Yea,
Amen! May Thy Spirit seal that which is written in the
simplicity of my heart.
Thine unworthy
possession,
Gerhard Tersteegen. Anno Domini 1724, Green Thursday.
Through the kindly
advice of Hoffman, a young man by the name of Henry Sommer was
taken into the solitary lodgings of Tersteegen. He was of the
same spirit, and one whom Gerhard had known for some time. He
wished to learn the art of ribbon weaving so the two worked long
hours together, while at intervals during the day they prayed
unitedly. The atmosphere became less rigid, and this routine
continued for thee years.
During this time
Tersteegen translated some godly books by the saintly Bernieres
de Lauvigny. He also wrote "The Pious Lottery" and prepared some
materials for "The Spiritual Flower Garden."
Knowing the depth of
spiritual truth that Tersteegen had attained during this period
of retirement, Hoffman prevailed upon him to become a lay
preacher and minister at some regular meetings held each
Thursday. As he spoke, many were awakened and a permanent work
of grace was performed in hearts. He sounded forth four great
verities: The atonement of Jesus, the words of Jesus, the spirit
of Jesus and the example of Jesus.
In 1727, when Tersteegen was thirty years of age, a reviving
took place in Mulheim, doubtless the result of past faithful
sowing and many intercessory prayers. The days of his solitude
were over. As persons visited his dwelling to receive spiritual
guidance, his time was occupied from morning until evening in
personal counselling and correspondence. It was necessary to
give up his weaving, and at last accept the proffered gifts and
legacies which kind friends had before offered, but which he had
refused.
Larger
accommodations were required to meet the needs of the numbers
who now thronged the dwelling of Tersteegen. A house was
provided where the lower rooms could be opened one into another,
while Sommer and Tersteegen occupied the upstairs.
The volume, "The
Spiritual Flower Garden", was published in 1731. The hymns
included in this book were dearly prized by the people of
Mulheim who sang them at weddings and social gatherings. People
would be heard singing them while walking down the streets.
Others would greet one another with a few lines from one of his
compositions. Travellers took them on journeys, for Tersteegen
could utter in beauty of language, what they themselves were
unable to so feelingly express. John Wesley translated some of
them into English and they were included in the Methodist
Hymnal.
"Sans Souci" was
written about this time to refute the erroneous views held by
King Frederick the Great. That monarch, upon reading it,
exclaimed, "What can the quiet of the land do!" He invited
Tersteegen to come and see him, but as it was not a command, the
invitation was politely declined.
Many changes came
into the life of Tersteegen in 1746. His good friend, William
Hoffman, fell ill and Gerhard visited him frequently, praying
with him and ministering tenderly to his needs.
After Hoffman's
death he took over that godly man's home in order to have larger
premises to accommodate the growing dispensary work and the
preparation of medicines. Thousands of visitors came from far
and near to benefit by his spiritual counsel, some waiting for
hours in order to enjoy fifteen minutes of spiritual direction.
Sommer assiduously guarded his friend from visitors who might
unduly exhaust the servant of God. The younger man also attended
to many of the external affairs.
"My ardent love of
retirement and and repose appears to have been given to me to
make the reverse more burdensome, and perhaps also to serve as a
counterpoise to keep me from entering too deeply into and living
too much in outward exercises. I everywhere find a hunger
amongst the people and there is no one to break unto them - the
customary food no longer suffices them! I am obliged to devote
myself almost from morning til evening, to converse with
persons, either individually or collectively."
The secret of
retaining the desert atmosphere of aloneness in the midst of
such comings and goings, had at last been learned:
"There God and I -
none other; so far from men to be!
Nay, midst the crowd and tumult, still, Lord alone with Thee.
Still folded close upon Thy breast, in field, and mart, and
street,
Untroubled in that perfect rest, that isolation sweet."
In 1747, journeys
further afield began to be undertaken. Those who had been
inspired and blessed as a result of his writings, implored him
to visit them in the Duchy of Berg. Although Tersteegen traveled
incognito, it soon became known that he was actually in the
district, and anxious persons met him on the roadside, pleading
with him to turn aside to some neighbouring barn or building in
order to speak to a number who had gathered to hear him. For
eleven days, he ministered to such until, weakened by cold and
fever, his voice affected. This he took as a providence
directing him to return to his home.
His travels were
extended to Holland. This invitation had come about through a
gentleman of some social standing, who as a result of reading
his books, had given up a high position and affluence in order
to live a quiet and godly life. When Tersteegen was a guest of
this man, his privacy was invaded by the hungry who sought for
the "true bread". So faithful were these visits that they became
an annual event.
A second reviving
came to Mulheim in 1750 through the preaching of a student by
the name of Chevalier. Through his sermons on repentance, many
were awakened. The young man could not remain behind to continue
ministering, do it devolved upon Tersteegen to meet the demands
of those who clamoured for further words of this life. Many
would gather in the lower rooms of his home which could
accommodate six hundred souls. But there were times when the
house being filled, ladders were placed up against open windows
by those hoping to catch a few words from the prophet's lips.
Tersteegen had been
enabled to meet obloquy and scorn with lowliness of heart, but
would he be empowered to take the admiration and esteem now
showered upon him? In those days of meditation and stillness, he
had learned that the Most High dwells only with the lowly in
heart - that God is with the poor in spirit who tremble at His
word. In his sermons, poems and letters this truth is repeated
over and over again.
"Expect nothing from
yourself, but everything from the goodness of God, which is
inwardly so near you. Be afraid, when thou are know and praised,
but on the contrary, rejoice when thou art forgotten and
despised; for by this, the road to much danger and distraction
is blocked up, and thou gainest so much more time and
opportunity to abide in thyself and to walk alone with God."
"We must depart from
ourselves in order to enter into Him. This exit and entrace is
the basis and most essential act of godliness; because by it, we
restore to God what is His - I mean ourselves, thoroughly,
wholly, and irrevocably. If this departure and this entrance
should be neglected, our godliness is little worth, and is only
a shadow without substance."
This saint had likewise learned that it takes time to be holy
and to keep holy. The wise disposal of one's hours requires a
self-denial of that which is secondary.
"If others follow
their sensual appetites, and spend and misspend their valuable
time in the variety, adorning and beauty of their dress, their
houses, and their furniture; and apply so much valuable
attention to the ease and enjoyment of their vile bodies - it is
for us to show that we are not sensual nor animal, but spiritual
men. We do not seek to lie here upon roses and at ease, when our
Head and Forerunner was born in a wretched stable and manger,
and died upon the cross, wearing a crown of thorns."
"If we see others
turning outwards into the senses, and by trifling and
unnecessary hearing, seeing, speaking and thinking, open their
hearts as it were to the creature - let our hearts be as an
inclosed garden, and a sealed fountain to all created objects,
and solely open to the Beloved of our souls. We must wait day
and night at the posts of His doors, as a spiritual priesthood;
and therefore we are under obligation, because we believe the
Lord to be present in the temple of our hearts."
"How little do we
remain at home, to converse with God and ourselves and forsaking
everything else, make this our sole, our constant and chief
enjoyment."
In his
correspondence to enquirers, he sought to impress upon them the
importance of maintaining a life of communication with God. In
the days of his disillusionment with men and organizations, he
had discovered that God alone was perfect, and converse with Him
would clear away every bit of perplexity, whereas discussions
with even professed Christians who knew little of that deep life
of devotedness, could only confuse and bewilder.
"Avoid all unnecessary intercourse with the men of this world,
lest time be stolen from you and lest you yourselves be polluted
and carried away. The most dangerous kind are those who make
great pretensions to reason; particularly those who are
Christians only in name and appearance, and who do not act
directly and sincerely according to their previous calling. Such
have, as it were, truly studied every specious pretence by which
they may render void the strict, simple and inward life in
Christ, and seduce unstable minds."
"You are called -
think what grace - to social converse with God: you must
therefore avoid, by all means, all unnecessary converse with
men. This is particularly needful, whilst we are still so weak.
We must escape from the enemy and not come too near the view of
the world and the creature, in order that we may not lose sight
of the nearness of the Creator."
"Love prayer! Let prayer be your constant companion from morning
till night. Let your heart and desires continually hold converse
with God, in heart-felt simplicity; for His delights are with
the children of men."
"Let us love, and
esteem, and use the Holy Scriptures or the Bible, according to
the state and circumstances of our souls. It is undeniably the
best and most divine Book in the world, and a revelation or
expression of the will of God to us. It manifests an extremely
reprehensible ingratitude and arrogance to neglect and despise
it. We must now, however, forget that the power and illumination
of the Spirit of God are indispensably necessary to understand
it aright, and to walk according to it."
How fatherly his
counsel was to the beginner who often failed in his first
endeavors!
"If through weakness or unfaithfulness you forsake this
exercise, which is so incredibly useful and beautiful, all you
have to do is meekly and heartily begin again. Do not be weary
of it, although in the beginning you may not find any great
advantage from it, or make any rapid progress in it."
In order to renew
his strength in God, this spiritual counselor would retire to
the nearby woods for whole days, taking but little refreshment
with him. These were delightful times for the man whose personal
life was invaded throughout his waking hours.
"Oh, my dearest
friends, what are all our virtues and all our piety, unless
fellowship with Jesus lie at the bottom of it? Let us apply
ourselves more diligently to this delightful exercise of prayer
for we cannot exist a single moment of ourselves. All our faults
and falls proceed from our not abiding with Christ within."
Everything of a
sensational nature, this lover of God discouraged. He lived in a
time when others were stressing visions, voices and supernatural
manifestations. As in our own day, there was a great need for
men, gifted with discernment of spirits, who would be sensitive
to true spiritual movements of revival impetus, but would at the
same time be aware of the many substitutes that our wily enemy
foists upon the unwary.
This true servant of
God had been prepared for just such emergencies by his own early
experience. He had had contact with certain persons who had
thrown themselves open to supernatural influences that were not
of God. So affected was he by their proximity that at times when
engaged in prayer, he would be seized by a shaking and trembling
in every limb. But his deepening knowledge of the character of
God caused him to detect the farce and resist such attacks
quietly. After a few such experiences, the shaking ceased.
Later he was called upon to counsel a young lady in poor health,
who felt she heard a voice commanding her to rise on winter
nights and pray in a cold room. Tersteegen advised that when she
again had this impression, it would be wise to engage in her
devotions in bed. As this was observed, the voice ceased to
distress her.
A friend of his had
come under the influence of a woman who had seemed to become
greatly transformed spiritually. She showed great increase in
devotion to God and had given utterance to many edifying
statements. However, these were mixed with an questionable
assortment of voices and manifestations, including prophecies of
things which were to come pass after her decease. Gerhard gave
the friend the following sound advice:
"Pay no attention to all those extraordinary things, which are
only dangerous and tend to hinder growth in grace. I cordially
admire the substantial change which divine grace has wrought in
her, but you and I will live long enough to see that nothing
will follow of all these things, however desirable they may be."
Later, after the
death of the woman, this friend came gain and expressed his
regret for not having followed the advice given. Tersteegen
remarked that doubtless God had permitted this to warn him of
similar perils in the future.
As is usually the
case with all self-crucified, disciplined souls, Tersteegen had
a loving and balanced attitude toward denominational membership
and church attendance. Confused persons sought his advice about
remaining with the Church when it was so filled with
inconsistencies. To one such he wrote:
"I cannot deny the
corruptions of the external church; but I think my dear friend
has now more necessary things to attend to than to occupy
himself with these. Within! Within! With God alone! Neither do I
recommend you to separate yourself from church and sacrament.
There is no material benefit to be derived by such a separation,
and it has often been injurious to many. You must not, however,
act contrary to your conscience. If you find your conscience
oppressed by partaking of the sacrament, you will do better to
stay away, and wait awhile, to see whether the Lord will give
you more light on the subject. I should not like to attend the
discourse of a blasphemer, or one who is evidently still carnal.
If circumstances call for it, one may refrain a while without
resolving upon anything for the future, much less judging
others, who act otherwise."
"One may have
patience with honest preachers, who would gladly see a better
state of things, but know not how to attain it; but they, on
their part, ought to exercise equal patience with honest souls
whose consciences will not allow them to break bread with those
whom they cannot own as members of the 'one Body', and who
therefore stand aloof from the fear of displeasing God."
This German saint's
entire life had been one continual and painful illness, but he
witnessed to his friends that he had experienced more of God's
comfort and divine favour at these times than in health. Even at
birth he had been weakly, and yet he survived the more robust
members of his family. In his voluminous correspondence, he
mentioned repeated bouts of fever, rheumatism, stomach
complaints, asthma and colds which at times severely curtailed
his public ministry.
The last thirty
years of his life were specially trying in this respect, and he
looked upon himself always as "a candidate for death", living
only moment by moment. The seventy-year-old man was now so frail
that he could only minister to a few in a small room, and all
his longer journeys had to be abandoned. There was, however, no
spiritual decline. His hand still wielded his pen in revising
and supplementing his former literary efforts. His assistant,
Henry Sommer, told of entire nights spent in tears and
entreaties for the well-being of the members of Christ's body.
But added to these
afflictions were even the more trying misunderstandings and
cruel insinuations at the hands of not only scornful men, but of
professed followers of Christ. Some thought he did too little;
others that he did too much. Some envied him and his gifts; some
were jealous of the esteem he received thousands and thousands
from all over Europe. When they came to find fault with him, his
patience with these opponents often turned them into real
friends. He was not at liberty to compromise the truth to curry
their favour, but he could manifest real heart concern for those
with whom he differed.
In March, 1769,
dropsy developed, bringing with it much pain. He had formerly
wished to die like a hero; now he was content to go as a child.
To those who visited him, he had choice treasures, new and old,
to bring out of the treasury of his heart.
"Malachi has
preached to me today, 'He will sit'. It is not all done at once.
He still finds something to refine in me."
"I am not able to
speak of great things and experiences, but God gives me grace to
forget myself. I suffer much."
"I am the care of angels ... Yes, cared for by the love of God.
All the suffering and weakness are a part of the way and we pass
on leaving behind now a rough bit of road. The sweet eternity is
our home, and Jesus - Who makes all things sweet - our Companion
on the road. What love and grace!"
Gerhard Tersteegen
had set out fifty years before on a quest for God. Had he found
Him? Was his search successful? Let the old battle-scarred
warrior answer in prose and song.
"I am glad I have
lived so long - that I have come to know God with the heart, and
with firm conviction."
"Stilled by that
wondrous Presence, that tenderest embrace,
The years of longing over, do we behold thy Face;
We seek no more than Thou hast given, we ask no vision fair,
Thy precious Blood has opened Heaven, and we have found Thee
there."
As the end
approached, he slept deeply, but at midnight on April 2, his
friends could no longer awaken him. He had passed from "the
forecourt of eternity" into the presence of the King. "Those
standing around thought there were many angels about them who
took his soul away with joy."
From the Book:
They Knew Their God, Book Two - Harvey/Hey |