In many of his works, under various images, Ruysbroeck tries to tell us what he means by this inward union with God, this ‘mutual inhabitation,’ as he calls it in one passage of great beauty, which is the goal of the ‘Second Life.’ He reminds us again of that remote point of the spirit, that ‘apex’ of our being, where our life touches the Divine Life; where God’s image ‘lives and reigns.’ With the cleansing of the heart and mind, the heightening and concentration of the will, which the disciplines of the Active Life and Dark Night have effected, this supreme point of the spirit is brought at last within the conscious field. Then man feels and knows the presence there of an intense and creative vitality, an Eternal Essence, from which all that is worth having in his selfhood flows. This is the Life-giving Life (Levende Leven), where the created and Uncreated meet and are one: a phrase, apparently taken by Ruysbroeck from St. Bernard, which aptly expresses an idea familiar to all the great contemplatives. It is the point at which man’s separate spirit, as it were, emerges from the Divine Spirit: the point through which he must at last return to his Source. Here the Father has impressed His image, the Son is perpetually born, the Spirit wells up;[50] and here the Divine Unity dwells and calls him to the One. Here Eternity and Time are intertwined. Here springs the fountain of ‘Living Water’—grace, transcendent vitality—upon which the mystic life of man depends.
Now the self, because it is at last conformed to the demands of the spiritual world, feels new powers from this life-giving source streaming into all departments of its being. The last barriers of self-will are broken; and the result is an inrush of fresh energy and light. Whereas in the ‘First Life’ God fed and communed with him by ‘means,’ and was revealed under images appropriate to a consciousness still immersed in the world of appearance; now man receives these gifts and messages, makes his contacts with Reality, ‘without means,’ or ‘by grace’—i.e. in a spiritual and interior manner. Those ‘lightning flashes from the face of Divine Love,’ those abrupt and vivid intuitions which he enjoyed during illumination, have given way before the steady shining of the Uncreated Light. Though light-imagery is never long absent from Ruysbroeck’s pages, it is, however, the spring of Living Water ever welling up, the rills or brooks which flow from it, and take its substance to the farthest recesses of the thirsty land, which seems to him the best image of this new inpouring of life. He uses it in all his chief works, perhaps most successfully in The Spiritual Marriage. Faithful to the mediæval division of personality into Memory or Mind, Intelligence or Understanding, and Will,—influenced too by his deep conviction that all Divine activity is threefold in type,—he describes the Well-spring as breaking into three Brooks of Grace, which pour their waters into each department of the self. The duct through which these waters come, ‘living and foaming’ from the deeps of the Divine Riches, is the Eternal Christ; who ‘comes anew’ to the purified soul, and is the immediate source of its power and happiness.
The first of the brooks which flow from Him is called ‘Pure Simplicity.’ It is a ‘simple light,’ says Ruysbroeck in another place; the white radiance of Eternity which, streaming into the mind, penetrates consciousness from top to bottom, and unifies the powers of the self about the new and higher centre now established. This simple light, in which we see things as they are—and therefore see that only one thing truly is—delivers us from that slavery to the multiplicity of things, which splits the attention and makes concentration upon Reality impossible to the soul. The achievement of such mental simplicity, escaping the prismatic illusion of the world, is the first condition of contemplation. “Thanks to this simple light which fills him, the man finds himself to be unified, established, penetrated and affirmed in the unity of his mind or thought. And thereby he is uplifted and established in a new condition; and he turns inward upon himself, and stays his mind upon the Nudity, above all the pressure of sensual images, above all multiplicity.”[51]
The second stream which pours out from that Transcendent Life is a ‘Spiritual Clarity,’ which illuminates the intelligence and shows it all good. This clarity is a new and heightened form of intuition: a lucid understanding, whereby the self achieves clear vision of its own life, and is able to contemplate the sublime richness of the Divine Nature; gazing upon the mystery of the Trinity, and finding everywhere the Presence of God. Those who possess this light do not need ecstasies and revelations—sudden uprushes towards the supernal world—for their life and being is established in that world, above the life of sense. They have come to that state which Eckhart calls ‘finding all creatures in God and God in all creatures.’ They see things at last in their native purity. The heart of that vision, says Ruysbroeck, is their perception of “the unmeasured loyalty of God to His creation”—one of his deepest and most beautiful utterances—“and therefrom springs a deep inward joy of the spirit, and a high trust in God; and this inward joy embraces and penetrates all the powers of the soul, and the most secret part of the spirit.”[52]
The third Brook of Grace irrigates the conative powers of the self; strengthens the will in all perfection, and energises us anew. “Like fire, this brook enkindles the will, and swallows up and absorbs all things in the unity of the spirit ... and now Christ speaks inwardly in the spirit by means of this burning brook, saying, ‘Go forth, in exercises proper to this gift and this coming.’ By the first brook, which is a Simple Light, the Mind is freed from the invasions of the senses, and grounded and affirmed in spiritual unity. And by the second brook, which is a Spreading Light, the Reason and Understanding are illuminated, that they may know and distinguish all manner of virtues and exercises, and the mysteries of Scripture. And by the third brook, which is an Infused Heat, the heights of the Will are enkindled with quiet love and adorned with great riches. And thus does man become spiritually illuminate; for the grace of God dwells like a fountain-head in the unity of his spirit, and the brooks cause a flowing forth of all virtues from the powers of the soul. And the fountain-head of grace demands a back-flowing into that same ground from whence the flood has come.”[53]
So the Interior Life, now firmly established, is found to conform to those great laws which have guided the growing spirit from the first. Again, the dual property of love, possession and action, satisfaction and fecundity, is to be manifested upon new levels. The pendulum motion of life, swinging between the experience of union with God to which ‘the Divine Unity ever calls us,’ and its expression in active charity to which the multiplicity of His creatures and their needs ever entreat us, still goes on. The more richly and strongly the life-giving Life wells up within the self, the greater are the demands made upon that self’s industry and love. In the establishment of this balance, in this continual healthy act of alternation, this double movement into God and out to men, is the proof that the soul has really centred itself upon the spiritual world—is, as Ruysbroeck puts it, confirmed in love. “Thus do work and union perpetually renew themselves; and this renewal in work and in union, this is a spiritual life.”[54]
Now the self which has achieved this degree of transcendence has achieved, too, considerable experience in that art of contemplation or introversion which is the mode of its communion with God. Throughout, training and development have gone hand in hand; and the fact that Ruysbroeck seldom troubles to distinguish between them, but accepts them as two aspects of one thing—the gradual deification of the soul—constitutes one of the great obstacles to an understanding of his works. Often he describes the whole spiritual life as consisting in introversion, an entering of consciousness into the supersensuous regions beyond thought; in defiance of his own principle of active charity, movement, work, as the essential reaction to the universe which distinguishes a ‘deified’ man. The truth is that the two processes run side by side; and now one, now the other, is in the foreground of his thought. Therefore all that I shall now say of the contemplative art must be understood as describing acts and apprehensions taking place throughout the whole course of the Interior Life.
What, then, is introversion? It is one of the two great modes under which the spiritual consciousness works. Plainly, any living sense of God’s presence must discern that Circle whose centre is everywhere, as both exterior and interior to the self. In Ruysbroeck’s own works we find a violent effort to express this ineffable fact of omnipresence, of a truly Transcendent yet truly Immanent Reality; an effort often involving a collision of imagery. God, he says, may be discovered at the soul’s apex, where He ‘eternally lives and reigns’; and the soul itself dwells in God, ebbing and flowing, wandering and returning, within that Fathomless Ground. Yet none the less He comes to that soul from without; pouring in upon it like sunshine, inundating it with torrents of grace, seizing the separate entity and devouring whilst He feeds it; flashing out upon it in a tempest of love from the Empyrean Heaven, the Abyss of Being, where He dwells. “Present, yet absent; near, yet far!” exclaims St. Augustine. “Thou art the sky, and Thou art the nest as well!” says the great mystic poet of our own day.
Whilst nearly all the mystics have possessed clear consciousness of this twofold revelation of the Divine Nature, and some have experienced by turns the ‘outward and upward’ rush and the inward retreat, temperamentally they usually lean towards one or other form of communion with God,—ecstasy or introversion. For one class, contact with Him seems primarily to involve an outgoing flight towards Transcendent Reality; an attitude of mind strongly marked in all contemplatives who are near to the Neoplatonic tradition—Plotinus, St. Basil, St. Macarius—and also in Richard Rolle and a few other mediæval types. These would agree with Dionysius the Areopagite that “we must contemplate things divine by our whole selves standing out of our whole selves.” For the other class, the first necessity is a retreat of consciousness from the periphery, where it touches the world of appearance, to the centre, the Unity of Spirit or ‘Ground of the Soul,’ where human personality buds forth from the Essential World. True, this inturning of attention is but a preliminary to the self’s entrance upon that same Transcendent Region which the ecstatic claims that he touches in his upward flights. The introversive mystic, too, is destined to ‘sail the wild billows of the Sea Divine’; but here, in the deeps of his nature, he finds the door through which he must pass. Only by thus discovering the unity of his own nature can he give himself to that ‘tide of light’ which draws all things back to the One.
Such is Ruysbroeck’s view of contemplation. This being so, introversion is for him an essential part of man’s spiritual development. As the Son knows the Father, so it is the destiny of all spirits created in that Pattern to know Him; and the mirror which is able to reflect that Divine Light, the Simple Eye which alone can bear to gaze on it, lies in the deeps of human personality. The will, usually harnessed to the surface-consciousness, devoted to the interests of temporal life; the love, so freely spent on unreal and imperfect objects of desire; the thought which busies itself on the ceaseless analysis and arrangement of passing things—all these are to be swept inwards to that gathering-point of personality, that Unity of the Spirit, of which he so often speaks; and there fused into a single state of enormously enhanced consciousness, which, withdrawn from all attention to the changeful world of ‘similitudes,’ is exposed to the direct action of the Eternal World of spiritual realities. The pull of Divine Love—the light that ever flows back into the One—is to withdraw the contemplative’s consciousness from multiplicity to unity. His progress in contemplation will be a progress towards that complete mono-ideism in which the Vision of God—and here vision is to be understood in its deepest sense as a totality of apprehension, a ‘ghostly sight’—dominates the field of consciousness to the exclusion, for the time of contemplation, of all else.