The Warfare of the Soul: Practical Studies in the Life of Temptation

by Shirley Carter Hughson

CHAPTER V

THE SPIRIT OF SOLICITUDE

Thomas à Kempis tells us that since the life of man upon earth is a temptation, "Everyone ought therefore to be anxious about his temptations and to watch in prayer."[[1]]

I. True and False Anxiety

The anxiety to which we are exhorted is not, however, that attitude of mind and heart which would follow upon any uncertainty, or want of assurance, in regard to the result. The word à Kempis uses gives, in its original significance, no such suggestion. It is sollicitus, which has the force of being wholly aroused. That is to say, because life on earth is a temptation, we are warned that our whole being must be stirred in the face of such a condition.

There must not be a single faculty that is not keen and alert to enter, at a moment's notice, upon the conflict. Every part of our nature must be as a soldier fully armed, standing ready to spring instantly forward to the conflict at the word of command.[[2]]

The anxiety that engenders doubt and fear is indeed too often found among God's people. "It is never free from imperfections and always springs from some evil root of self-love,"[[3]] and is the result more of a lack of faith than of any true, supernatural solicitude for the safety of our souls. We can well afford to leave all these cares with God. Says the saintly writer we have been quoting, "Greater is Thy anxiety for me than all the care that I can take for myself; for he stands precariously who casts not all his anxiety upon Thee."[[4]]

The true Christian anxiety is closely akin to the virtue of Holy Fear, which, as we know, is one of the special gifts of the Holy Ghost. We are anxious about our temptations and the possibilities of sin, because we have a dread of offending a Father whose love has ever been poured out upon us in most precious benefactions. The soul recognizing God's goodness, and His tender, fatherly love, shrinks from the baseness and ingratitude of wounding that love. We are not afraid of God; we are afraid of offending God because we love Him. There are few virtues that are so immediately rooted in love as Holy Fear. Of course, we have no reference to that servile fear which St. John tells us is cast out by perfect love.[[5]] He refers to the fear of the slave who dreads to offend because he is afraid of the lash. Holy Fear is the fear that is aroused in the pure heart of a little child who shrinks from that which would wound the love of a tender father. We find the true expression of our filial anxiety in the familiar words of Faber's hymn:

"Oh, how I fear Thee, living God,
With deepest, tenderest fears,
And worship Thee with trembling hope,
And penitential tears."

II. Worry Versus Faith

The presence of worry is proof of absence of trust in God. The two cannot abide in the same heart; and there is no more subtle device of the tempter than this of arousing in us the spirit of worry concerning our temptations. It is a temptation within a temptation, and this very complication has the effect of sadly clouding the real issue.

We have the word of the Holy Ghost that "God is faithful, who will not suffer you to be tempted above that ye are able."[[6]] The word faithful as used here by St. Paul signifies faithfulness in carrying out an agreement. It is implied that God has entered into a covenant with the soul that He will permit no temptation beyond our strength to assail us. The Apostle says that God is faithful and will fulfil His part in this covenant. But the soul that admits worry is, in substance, saying that it is not convinced of God's faithfulness in the matter, and considers, in spite of the promise, that there is much to fear.

Worry is the mother of an innumerable brood of sins. Well did the Psalmist say, "Fret not thyself else shalt thou be moved to do evil."[[7]] He knew somewhat of the sources of sin. His own experience, as well as the inspiration of the Spirit, had taught him that the fretted soul was a fair target for a hundred darts of the enemy. "The very sound of the word anxiety is painful," says a modern writer; "next to sin there is nothing that so much troubles the mind, strains the heart, distresses the soul, and confuses the judgment."[[8]] Imagine an army troubled, strained, distressed, confused; what possible chance would it have of victory against a powerful and confident foe? It would be the plaything of the enemy, as indeed the human soul often is when it allows itself to be unnerved by a false anxiety.

Thus we see that the anxious soul is the doubting soul, and the soul that doubts God's goodness and loving care in the midst of the trial and conflict has already flung away its weapons and prepared the terms of its surrender to Satan. Even if our own experience did not teach us better, His word, so often repeated, should reassure us. What can be more comforting than the many passages concerning the divine care and compassion with which the Scriptures teem?

We recall the final summing up of the last great blessing which Moses gave his people from God before he went up into the mount to be seen of them no more. "The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms."[[9]] Do these words leave room for anxious doubt that in every assault of the enemy He will be with us? Or those other words that have brought strong consolation to so many souls in the midst of the conflict: "I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee"?[[10]]

Would that we could learn the lesson as the Psalmist learned it, that we might rest upon the divine compassion, not enervated as we too often are by human sympathy, but with our hearts thrilling with courage, fearing naught, knowing that He is faithful that hath promised,[[11]] and should the battle prove too strong He will save and deliver. "He shall send down from on high to fetch me; and shall take me out of many waters."[[12]]

III. The Cure of a Doubting Spirit

There are many practical means we can employ to allay that kind of solicitude which is both the cause and effect of a doubting spirit.

(1) Think not overmuch of the dangers of the warfare. The imagination brooding over them will be apt to paint them in lurid colours that will terrify and weaken. If the thought of the peril presses upon us, supplant it by recalling the oft repeated pledges of divine help. Think rather of the glory of a conflict in which God is our Leader, and in which victory is absolutely assured if only we do not lose heart but fight on to the end.

Recall the precious promises He has given us, and how that often in the very language of these promises we gain a glimpse of conditions of the war that ought mightily to encourage us. "Resist the devil and he will flee from you,"[[13]] says the Spirit, comforting us concerning the peril of the conflict. Glance for a moment at the particular words the Holy Ghost here chooses. "Resist the devil"; or, to go back to the etymology of the word, Stand against him; yield not one step to him however he may fling the full weight of his power against you. But what will be the result? Not only that your soul will be safe from stain or guilt, but that you will carry consternation into the ranks of hell. "He will flee from you," and the word used by the inspired writer means not merely that he will withdraw and leave you, but that he will make a precipitate flight, as one in a panic flees from impending danger.[[14]]

Let us remember when suggestion of fear comes that this is in itself a special temptation from Satan, and nowhere in his temptations is he guilty of more deliberate lying. As a matter of fact there is no danger, even in the fiercest of his assaults, to the soul that cherishes the presence of Christ within. For if He be in my heart, then the conflict is between Him and the tempter, and so long as my heart is His, and I do not, by wilful sin, drive Him forth, it is as impossible for Satan to conquer as it was for him to have triumphed over our Lord in the great conflict in the wilderness.

In short, at such times all our Lord asks is that we maintain our hearts for Him that He may use them as battle-fields upon which to join issue once more with the adversary that He may administer to him another crushing defeat. True, He uses our faculties with which to fight, but the battle is His, and if we stand not in the way His will be the victory. There can be no real danger to the faithful soul when the struggle is conducted under these conditions.

(2) Speak not of your anxieties to everyone. We may rightly take counsel with some wise spiritual guide who may be able to interpret them for us; but experience shows us that many times much speaking of these matters gives body and reality to troubles which have no adequate ground, and which might easily have been driven away, had we only sought to divert the mind from them, and so to forget them, instead of impressing them still more on the consciousness by dwelling upon them in thought and conversation.

Above all things let not our conversation concerning our anxieties take the form of complaint, for in every case the complaint is against God. He is directing the detail of the warfare, and each complaint is an open questioning of His justice and wisdom and love. When Satan sees that our spirits are thus inclined, how quick he is to take advantage of it. How thick and fast do suggestions come that lead us swiftly on to that state of self-pity at the supposed hardness of our lot, that means a speedy extinction of divine grace within. Remember that complaint means disloyalty, and disloyalty is a long step toward open rebellion.

Even if our querulous spirit does not lead directly to such serious sin, it involves us in great peril. We have already seen that Satan has no means of knowing the effect of his assaults except by the outward indications we give. When we openly complain of the force of his attacks, are we not advertising him of our weak points? The garrison that is maintaining a siege not only seeks to keep its fortifications intact, but, should weakness transpire at any point, is most careful not to give the enemy knowledge of it. Keep a brave front always. This not only encourages our own heart, but discourages the adversary.

(3) We must also draw upon our past experience to convince ourselves that most of our anxieties have no real basis in fact. How many hours and days of troubled care can we recall which were proved by the issue of the event to have had reality only in our anxious imagination.

"My sons," said an old man on his deathbed, in giving his last counsel to his children, "I have had much trouble in this life, but most of it never happened." This is the universal experience, and it holds good with the solicitude that we feel over our temptations and other spiritual trials as in the less important matters of our temporal life.

(4) It will be a help to remind ourselves very frequently that in indulging a false anxiety concerning our spiritual difficulties, we are seeking to-day to bear the morrow's burden, something God means no soul to undertake. There are surely temptations enough to-day to require all of to-day's grace and strength; and, conversely, we know that no grace will be wanting for the trials of the present hour.

The promise is given to us as to God's people of old, "As thy days so shall thy strength be";[[15]] that is, according to the need of each particular occasion so will strength be given. There is no promise that strength will be given to-day to bear the anticipated, and often imaginary, ills of the future; and when we allow ourselves thus to anticipate them, we are courting sure defeat.

Satan delights to lead us into this false anxiety, for he knows we have at the present moment no grace to grapple with temptations and trials which do not belong to this time; and further, he knows that a faithful confidence in God now is the sine qua non to securing and storing up strength against the future trial. If he can disturb that confidence to-day, when the real temptation comes to-morrow we shall not have laid hold of the grace that was offered, and so cannot but fail, unless some extraordinary mercy of God saves us then in spite of our faithlessness.

Nor should we ever permit ourselves to forget that there may be no to-morrow. "Remember that it is God's, not thine."[[16]] How sad a case would it be (and doubtless there have been many such), if we should weaken our souls and God's power within them, by fretting over what might happen to-morrow; then, the call suddenly coming, find ourselves saved indeed perhaps, but occupying a lower place in heaven forever, because in troubling our hearts over the burdens of a to-morrow that never came we lost the grace of to-day. Every grace given us here is transmuted into glory there. Let us not lose one of them, for the graces proffered and accepted here are pledges of the measure of the heavenly glory that will be ours.[[17]]

IV. God's Sympathy

But, do what we will, after all, the best and only unfailing refuge from the snare of a false solicitude is to turn in these anxious moments to Him with Whom alone true sympathy is found. With profit may we hearken to the warning of the blessed à Kempis: "By mutual speech we seek mutual comfort, and desire to ease the heart overwearied with manifold anxieties..... But, alas, often in vain and to no end; for this outward comfort is no small loss of inward and divine consolation."[[18]]

In our solicitude we desire, and rightly desire, human sympathy, and God means us to have it. It was for this very thing that He sent His Son to take our nature and a human heart, full of warm love and sympathy, that we might find in perfection that for which we yearn,—the tender sympathy of our own kind. What sweet and strong consideration for our weakness is shown in this. Mere human sympathy only enervates, and in the end the soul is left weaker than before. Every man's experience has told him this, and yet deep in the human heart there is that uncontrollable longing for the loving touch of another heart, human like our own. God sees this, and condescends to it. He takes humanity, full and complete, up into the Godhead, that in Him we may find that human Heart that will give us perfectly the comfort and sympathy for which we yearn.

So in our solicitude let us turn to Him, our Elder Brother, and the disciple who lay on His breast at Supper will have no more loving a welcome, no sweeter a sympathy, than that which He will give to us who are wearied with the burden of life's warfare, and perplexed with the problems of the battle.

[[1]] Imitation, I, xiii.

[[2]] "When the mind ceases to entertain religious anxiety, it becomes at the same time forgetful of the commandments, and while it thinks itself advancing, it wanders from the smooth road, and idles on its way."—St. Macarius, Institutes of Christian Perfection, Bk. I, chap. v.

[[3]] Scupoli, The Spiritual Combat, chap. xxv.

[[4]] Imitation, IV, xvii.

[[5]] 1 St. John iv, 18.

[[6]] 1 Cor. x, 13.

[[7]] Ps. xxxvii, 8. The R. V. reads, "Fret not thyself; it tendeth only to evil-doing."

[[8]] Archbp. Ullathorne, Christian Patience, p. 128.

[[9]] Deut. xxxiii, 27.

[[10]] Heb. xiii, 5.

[[11]] Heb. xi, 11.

[[12]] Ps. xviii, 16.

[[13]] St. James iv, 7.

[[14]] [Greek: pheúgô], from which our English word fugitive is derived.

[[15]] Deut. xxxiii, 25.

[[16]] Pusey, Parochial Sermons, Vol. II, p. 158.

[[17]] See a remarkable discourse in Dr. Pusey's Lenten Sermons on "The Losses of the Saved."

[[18]] Imitation, I, x.