Primitive Christianity Revived, Again
New Testament Inspired:
Beautiful Quaker Words: James Nayler’s Deathbed Testimony
There is a spirit which I feel that delights to do no evil, nor to revenge any wrong, but delights to endure all things, in hope to enjoy its own in the end. Its hope is to outlive all wrath and contention, and to weary out all exaltation and cruelty, or whatever is of a nature contrary to itself. It sees to the end of all temptations. As it bears no evil in itself, so it conceives none in thought to any other. If it be betrayed, it bears it, for its ground and spring is the mercies and forgiveness of God. Its crown is meekness, its life is everlasting love unfeigned; it takes its kingdom with entreaty and not with contention, and keeps it by lowliness of mind. In God alone it can rejoice, though none else regard it, or can own its life. It is conceived in sorrow, and brought forth without any to pity it; nor doth it murmur at grief and oppression. It never rejoiceth but through sufferings; for with the world's joy it is murdered. I found it alone, being forsaken. I have fellowship therein with them who lived in dens and desolate places of the earth, who through death obtained this resurrection and eternal holy life.
Thou wast with me when I fled from the face of mine enemies: then didst Thou warn me in the night: Thou carriedst me in Thy power into the hiding-place Thou hadst prepared for me: there Thou coveredst me with Thy Hand that in time Thou mightst bring me forth a rock before all the world. When I was weak Thou stayedst me with Thy Hand, that in Thy time Thou mightst present me to the world in Thy strength in which I stand, and cannot be moved. Praise the Lord, O my soul. Let this be written for those that come after. Praise the Lord.
Kenneth Boulding’s Nayler Sonnets:
18. In God alone it can rejoice
I plunge me, shouting, in the fecund tide
Of vast creation; lave myself in light,
Dwell with imperial clouds, cloak with the night,
And woo the earth as lover woos a bride;
Through intricate kingdoms of pure sound I ride
On music, and on laughter, and invite
My joyful body-spirit to unite
With scent, taste, touch: all senses sanctified.
What then! In God alone I must rejoice?
Not in His creatures, His abounding gifts?
The veil of sensual goodness lightly lifts
And through the inward seam there drops a voice:
“Could any gift its giver’s loss atone,
or joy be sure, except its source be known?”
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