The Sermons of Johannes Tauler · 70 of 124

Second Sermon for the Fifth Sunday after

And going into one of the ships that was Simon’s, He desired him to draw back a little from the land. And sitting, He taught the multitudes out of the ship. Now when He had ceased to speak, he said to Simon: Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught. And Simon, answering, said to Him: Master, we have labored all the night, and have taken nothing; but at Thy word I will let down the net And when they had done this, they enclosed a very great multitude of fishes, and their net broke. And they beckoned to their partners that were in the other ship, that they should eome and help them. And they came and filled both the ships, so that they were almost sinking: which, when Simon Peter saw, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying: Depart from me because I am a sinful man, O Lord. — Luke v, 3-10.

The ship that our Lord commanded to be launched out into the deep may be taken to mean the interior life of our soul. It journeys over the dangerous sea of this sorrowful world, which is so subject to changes from storm to calm, from joy to sorrow. It makes one’s heart wither away with fear, when one realizes the dangers that beset those whose hearts are entrusted to the custody of the world’s stormy ocean. How it will be with you in eternity,, that you think little about, but you voyage along blindly, concerned wholly with your bodily apparel and adornment and nourishment, totally forgetful of the awful judgment that awaits you — when? You know not; it may be even today er tomorrow. O if you but realized the danger of clinging to the world, the danger that besets all who do not with deepest sincerity

Let us come to our subject “Launch out into the deep,” our Lord said. This may mean to us that the supreme need of a spiritual man is that his soul, with all its thought And love, shall and must be drawn away from everything that is not God. Whosoever would noi be wrecked and drowned in the stormy sea of this life must be elevated above all creatures. St. Peter said: “Master, we have labored all the night, and have taken nothing.” This was well and truly said; for all who are preoccupied with outward things labor in the night ana take nothing. Then said our Lord: “Let down your nets for a

Children, what may here be meant by the net? It may mean a man’s thoughts, — the net that he casts out to gather into his mind what will inflame it with holy desires, holy deeds and teachings, especially the divine life and passion of Jesus. Holy meditation fills the soul with Christ, all our mental powers and our senses being transformed by love and joy in Him, so that sometimes one cannot hide it, but must break forth into loud songs of jubilation.

This launching out into the deep is, however, but the first degree; and to be made a truly mortified man, or as Dionysius says, a God-like man, one must be guided to a yet profounder depth of divine influence. This means that all those things wherewith the lower faculties of the soul are occupied, must fall qway and be lost to it — even holy thoughts and imaginations, joy and jubilation, all, in fact, that God had granted, now must seem out of place and something to be excluded from the soul. Such things have lost their savor and the soul can no longer be content with them. But here is the dreadful misery; for they are gone and there is nothing to take their place. The poor man craves something in their stead and is wholly unable to possess it — he is imprisoned within the walls of a narrow cell, and is overpowered

Every trial and opposition that man ever suffered is become his lot. The waves of a tempest of anguish break mercilessly over his little ship.

Dear child, I say to thee: Be not affrighted, for thy Bhip is too well anchored to be wrecked by any storm. That just man Job says: “After darkness I hope for light again” (Job xvii: 12). Best tranquilly in thy own soul, depart not from thyself, be patient to the end. Some men, finding themselves, in this painful destitution, run away from it; but it is a hurtful thing to try to escape this suffering. Nor does this attempt to fly give them relief — the teachers to whom they carry their complaints help them not at all, and they but wander further away from joy. Stand thy ground. Be sure that after darkness comes light — await patiently the sunlight of the dawn. If thou wilt but wait, thy birth into God is nigh at hand. He says to thee: Have confidence in Me, for no trial is ever imposed upon a soul, but that he shall be granted a new spiritual birth if he bears himself bravely. It is for the sake of this that every tribulation from Me or from My creatures is sent to thee. But if thou permittest any creature whatsoever to interfere with this trial, be sure that it will prevent the divine regeneration within thee — and how great an injury is this. If thy soul be anchored fast to the rock of Christ, then what St Paul said becomes true of thee: “For I am sure that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor might, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be ever able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Bom. viii: 38-39). The more all devils and men conspire against thee or assail thee, the higher do they lift thy soul unto God.

Children, the man who yields his soul patiently to thiB oppressive sorrow, gives up more of self and takes on more of God than would be possible by a whole world of external devout exercises. Therefore, look nowhere for any help, neither from within nor from without Let thy wounds bleed, seek no solace for them — God will Burely relieve thee in His own time if thou wilt but commit thyself to Him absolutely. Children, this is the nearest way to the divine birth within the soul, which illumines it with God’s unhindered light. It sometimes happens that an outward living man suffers an outward misfortune, such as a

Children, would you have a true sign of what you really are in God’s sight? Ask yourself what it is that gives you pleasure or pain? Art thou filled with God? Then the ship of thy soul cannot be endangered by the storms of created things. On such a man God bestows the priceless jewel of inward joy, which no other man can comprehend — the firm possession of divine peace. Many a time the storm of temptation beats fiercely on the little barque, threatening to sink it to the bottom — it can never disturb the interior tranquility, however much the outward man is moved.

As to those good souls who have never experienced this degree of perfection, I say to you, be not disturbed. There are fishermen who are rich and those who are poor, far more of the latter. And no matter how simple or lowly may be thy devotional life, if thou dost follow it with deep sincerity of heart, and if thou longest to be made a higher lover of God, rest in that with all confidence; allow nothing to interfere, keep God before thy eyes in all thy conduct — thou mayst be quite sure that the deep quiet of soul we have been considering shall yet be thine, if it should even be postponed to the hour of thy death.

And yet after all, this true friend of God has with his great peace of soul a mixture of unrest — a breaking of the net. For he is distressed that he cannot be so much to God as he would wish; and also that God is not yet quite perfectly enjoyed by him. We read of a holy man who lived in a forest for forty years, and he always went on hands and feet for God’s sake, never feeling a moment of divine consolation. Now there can be no doubt but that he really had more comfort from God than a thousand others; but not enough to satisfy him, for he could only enjoy that divine consolation which was of the very highest degree. In that degree there is granted an essential peace, of which it is written: “Seek after peace and pursue it (Psalm xxxi: 15) — the peace that passeth all understanding, the unnamed and unnamable turning of the soul to God, which is answered by the unnamed and

Our Lord sat in the ship and taught the people. And so does God sit in these men’s souls and rests there, and through them does He teach the whole world. But be sure of this: the net of this soul must be broken when it is drawn into this deep place. Though you must not imagine that I myself claim to have arrived at this degree. True, no man should teach that of which he has not had some living experience, or what at least he does not love, and meditate on, and to acquire which he places no hindrance.

As to the breaking of the net, it cannot do otherwise than break, so great is the multitude of the fishes: — that is to say, poor human nature is too weak to abide the strain of so much heavenly joy. Henceforth this man shall never know a day of sound health. St Hildegarde teaches this very well: “God’s dwelling place is not in a strong and healthy body.” And St. Paul: “For power is made perfect in infirmity” (II Cor. xii:9). But this weakness does not come from the Godhead upon and into the soul, which is more than the feeble severe external mortifications can bear, but from the excessive outpourings of bodily forces. God has drawn this soul so deep into Himself that it is, as it were, brightened with the divine brilliancy. It is superessentially new formed in God, who now works this man’s work Himself. If one could see that soul thus new formed in God, he would imagine that he behold God himself, though the transforma30 —

But what is the breaking of the net? When the ship is at the deep place of God and the net is cast for a draught, the number of fishes caught is so great that the ship is about to sink and the net is broken — that is to say all self, and all ownership is broken and torn to pieces.

If anything is to become what it is not, then it must first cease to be what it is. Therefore in this case soul and body are, in a certain sense, sunk down into this deep sea and totally immersed. The soul loses its natural activity, and also those devout practices which are seated in the use of the natural faculties. Sunk in this divine depths, a man has no longer any pious exercises, or vocal prayers. , Then a man can but do as St. Peter did, when falling at the feet of Jesus he said those foolish words: “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” Pious observances and prayers are gone from him, and perforce he must drop down into his original nothingness, and be a very little • thing before God’s face. Furthermore, everything that he ever received from God seems stripped away from his soul find restored to the giver; seeming as if it all never had been possessed by him, becoming to him so much nothingness. And it seems to him that by this process, created nothingness is absorbed in a way wholly incomprehensible; it is in reality the abyss of man’s being assumed into unity with the abyss of God’s being. Thus teaches the Psalmist; “Deep calletb unto deep” (Ps. xli: 8). The divine being takes up this soul, the human spirit is lost in God’s spirit — sunk in the fathomless ocean of the Godhead. Then does such a man become wholly virtuous, uniformly kind, and goijly; his manners are sweet and cheerful and. he is very companionable with everybody; nor shall any fault ever be found in him. To all men he is friendly and trusts all, is very pitiful to all, never stern or exacting— we find it hard to believe that such man conld ever fall away from God’s love. God grant that all of us may obtain this grace. Amen.

conflict between inner and outer loyalty — Refinement of soul resulting from inner conformity to Qod — Sorrows of this state — The folly of resting on anything but a loving interior obedience.