The Way of Divine Union

Being a Doctrine of Experience in the Life of Sanctity, Considered on the Faith of its Testimonies and Interpreted After a New Manner

Arthur Edward Waite

• Publisher: White Press
• Year: 2020
• Print ISBN: 9781528711487
• eBook ISBN: 9781528768863
• Topic: Philosophy
• Subtopic: Mind & Body in Philosophy

First published in 1915, "The Way of Divine Union" is a fascinating book on the subject of mysticism by A. E. Waite. Arthur Edward Waite (1857 – 1942), more commonly referred to as A. E. Waite, was an American-born British mystic and poet. He wrote profusely on the subject of the occult and esoteric matters, and is famous for being the co-creator of the Rider-Waite Tarot deck. His work arguably constitutes the first attempt to systematically studying the history of western occultism, which he viewed more of a spiritual tradition than proto-science or pseudo-religion, as was the more common conception. Contents include: "Characteristics of the Present Age in Respect of the Church and the World", "In Respect of Relations between God, Man, and the Universe", "The True Life of These Subjects", "Experience of the Mystical Life", "Immediate Answers Which It Offers", etc. Other works by this author include: "The Alchemical Writings of Edward Kelly" (1893), "Turba Philsophorum" (1894), and "Devil-Worship in France" (1896). Many vintage books such as this are increasingly scarce and expensive. We are republishing this volume now in an affordable, modern, high-quality edition complete with a specially-commissioned new biography of the author.

THE
WAY OF DIVINE UNION

CHAPTER I

THE TITLE OF THE QUEST

ALL the great subjects have their unhappy associations, as they have too frequently their unworthy and perverted side. But, if I may speak for once so obviously, it would be something worse than idle to renounce henceforward our confession to the rule of holy commandments, because they are dishonoured so continually by their breach rather than maintained in high reverence—as they are still assuredly—by dutiful and condign observance. So also the counsels of perfection, above the region of command, are not reduced in respect of their ultimate values if the denomination has been applied to substitutes, or if the real things have been current under names of convention. The Way of Divine Union—which is the crown of all the counsels—is the Way of the Mystical Quest, and the Mystical End is an old title for the attained Union. Now, the name of Mysticism and the denomination of Mystic have passed through various undesirable ordeals in their comparatively brief history; yet they are terms which—in modern times—have been used to distinguish (I) the highest method and object of research which it has entered into the heart of man to conceive or follow, and (2) not only those disciples of the path who have embraced the method, but—speaking ex hypothesi for the moment—those who have reached its object. For this reason, as it is my intention to make use of the words, it would be idle to consider in the first place whether they should be abandoned preferably, nor will it be needful to dwell at much length on the question whether they can be replaced by other symbols of language which would embody more efficiently that which they have implied for the last two hundred years or longer. That they are a perfect name and description I am in no wise prepared to affirm. That in their conventional use they owe their chief efficiency to anything but accretions superposed by custom I am prepared to doubt. They suggest connotations in things like the Instituted Mysteries¹—more especially of the classical world, and those of Greece above all—which are of great importance in symbolism and in the history of symbolism, but are adventitious for our present purpose rather than essential. What is much worse, they move in a cloud of illusory seeming because of the false mystics, the popular misuse of words, with all the unholy issues of occult pretence and delusion. But we have held to them so far because—as a fact—there is nothing better in the possible alternatives, and it comes about, therefore, that we must be content with what we have. Did I even know of something which might be held acceptable to replace either, I should hesitate to produce it now, on account of old consecrations arising from familiar use, the deficiencies and profanations notwithstanding.

The definitions of Mysticism are many, and as the subject can be approached or regarded from several points of view, a certain number among the modern instances may be allowed to pass muster within their particular limits, which—in each case—would be restrictions of the maker’s consciousness. There is, however, scarcely one that will satisfy those who are acquainted, in the deeper sense, with the quest and end of which it is a title. This fact is not surprising in view of what has been indicated, namely, that the word is a modern word and that it does not comprehend the subject to which it is applied. It is obvious that neither the way nor the end of Divine Union is represented by a notion of secrecy. The latter is a counsel of conduct or a delineation of something that is inevitable. I know that there is a postulate of secrecy in this holy path of life, and for more than one reason. In the first place, it is strange, difficult and rarely followed; furthermore, it is travelled alone; and in the proper use of terms it is a path which is not a path, though it may be said that there is a place of entrance. Again, its business arises from peculiar postulates, or doctrines, and albeit in one sense no dogmatic system is secret per se there is another in which the high doctrines may always be called secret. They deal with subject-matters and experience that are beyond all common knowledge and can spell nothing to the ordinary concourse of men, though there is no condemnation of these in consequence and no distinction for this purpose between that which is common—as if it were for such reason unclean—and that which is exotic and hence outside the categories of popular convention. Finally, it is certain that after we have said everything, and have exhausted language, the path remains secret, because there is a saving fire in the heart and a saving fire in the head, the synonym of which is quickening, and those who have not that fire are without life and true understanding in respect of this subject. But when these things have been specified the root - deficiency remains—that concealment is a characteristic at best and neither this term nor its synonyms can shadow forth, much less embody, that which it is intended to convey by those who speak of Mysticism with any knowledge thereof. Hence the word does duty by way of substitution under every disadvantage.

Outside these considerations, a recurring difficulty arises from attempted speculative definitions on the part of persons who, standing on no certain ground, are misled by one or other of the fantastic issues which encompass the central concern. It signifies little whether their starting-point is in the etymology of the word Mysticism, or otherwise. In the one case definition goes astray through the region of so-called occult science, while in the other it ignores what is of real import in the term and its meaning.¹ The life and essence of the subject escape in both cases. We have therefore on the one hand a word which is admittedly incommensurate and on the other an interpretation which too frequently carries it still further in extraneous or ridiculous directions. It may clear some of the issues to state that no born mystic ever characterised himself by this name in the old days, nor did he dream of his art and practice as embraced by the word Mysticism. That which was known and recognised was the branch of theology called mystical, and those who treated it have left us a clear understanding of the sense attached to the term. It is to their definitions and intimations that we must appeal. The distinction is of some importance and has not been recognised adequately, if indeed at all in the literature. I shall therefore offer certain citations in a roughly chronological order, it being understood that the antecedents of Christian Mysticism in non-Christian religious or philosophical systems are no part of my concern. There is a mystical theology in Plotinus¹ and it is of the highest importance, not only on warrants of its own but because of the influence which it exercised on Christian Mysticism; there is otherwise the whole circle of Neo-Platonism; and there is in fine eclectic Gnosticism; but my research lies within the mystical consciousness of Christendom. It is enough, therefore, to recognise that there was a debt to the past, a derivation on many sides therefrom, as also from sects and systems amidst which mystical consciousness grew up.

I will speak first of the Mystical Theology which we owe to an unknown writer who assumed the name of Dionysius¹—not because he is the first who could be mentioned but because of the high place that he occupies in the sacred tradition. His brief tract and some letters arising therefrom expound the doctrine and delineate the general heads of the practice by which the truth of that doctrine is, ex hypothesi, established in experience. There is—he tells us—a theology which is secret and mystical, another that is evident and known.² The first is symbolical and sacramental, the second philosophical and demonstrative, a more explicit definition being wanting in either case.³ In the seventh century we have, however, the Scholia of St. Maximus on the works of Dionysius to supply the deficiency, up to a certain point, by affirming that the secret tradition of Scripture is explained in mystical theology, the transmission being by means of symbols.¹ It is informed with a certain Divine efficacity which fortifies souls devoted to things mystical and to contemplation, using symbolised enigmas for this purpose and dissolving souls in Christ by the revelation of Divine Mysteries in silence.

Next in the Dionysian succession, or towards the end of the ninth century, are the luminous expositions, or glosses, of John the Scot on the Mystical Theology of St. Dionysius.² They tell us only that such theology is termed closed or secret, because it remains hidden and ineffable. It is apophatica or negative, seeking to find God by divesting Him of all qualities and likeness with things below, things medial, or things above. There is also Georgius Pachymeres,³ who wrote Greek paraphrases of Dionysius in the thirteenth or fourteenth century and bears similar testimony to that of St. Maximus, namely, that mystical theology shews forth truth by means of figurative signs and does not make itself and its subject plain to vulgar knowledge, which is the office of affirmative theology.⁴ Extending elsewhere the literal text of Dionysius, Pachymeres affirms that mystical theology is not of feeling, reasoning, activity, operation or fashion of mind, nor can it be explained by any principles or modes of ours. In a perfect suspension of thought, enlightened within itself, we know this theology to exceed that which mind can grasp. It is mystical because it is ineffable, and it is theology because it reveals concerning God that which is above all things.¹

When the time came, later on in the centuries, for the Jesuit Corderius² to enter the chain of succession, and to do anything—for the most part—rather than elucidate Dionysian issues with his endless cloud of words, he goes much further and is much more expressive than his precursors, or indeed his source itself—on the particular question in hand. The discipline of mystical theology is not to be acquired by personal force or enterprise—that is to say, by intellectual effort—but is a work of Divine bounty, the inward motion and inspiration of God. It does not demand merely that simple light of mind which is sufficient for theology in other departments, but a peculiar grace and high prerogative of its own, which leads up to its own heights. God, who is its object, is embraced within mystical theology, so that it subsists and is completed by intimate union with God—meaning that it is the science of experience attained in Him and is not of speculation or external dogma. In other kinds of theology the man who is inspired divinely appears as instructor in sacred things, but here “the doctor and rector of the Divine Oracles” is Divine Silence, or God Himself joined with deepest peace and stillness of the soul.¹ It is evident that between St. Maximus and Corderius there was a profound science of inward doctrine and experience growing up, of which the root was the Dionysian root, namely, that experience is the source of doctrine. We must go back upon the path that we have travelled to learn further concerning it.

Supposing, as a mere possibility which it might be perilous to entertain even tentatively, that the Dionysian writings were extant in the days of St. Augustine, it is certain that they were unknown to him, nor was the peculiar body of experience characterised as mystical theology more than implicit in his mind,² and then, I think, as a mere vestige. He has been regarded as a witness, within certain limits, of mystical experience,¹ but I do not know in what sense, and of course it would be idle to look in his direction for any definition of the science. So late as the first half of the twelfth century, as much must be said of St. Bernard, who is also classed amongst mystics—mainly on certain evidences found in his treatise De Consideratione and in his sermons on The Song of Solomon. The truth is that mystical theology was only in the course of its development and at rather an early stage.² It is making some progress in Hugh of St. Victor,³ the contemporary of St. Bernard, though it is held amidst the meshes of scholasticism, and it has reached no stage of definition either in him or his pupil and successor Richard of St. Victor—another master of contemplation.⁴ It emerges with a fuller quality of light and clearness in St. Thomas Aquinas, one of whose distinctions concerns an important issue. He says: “That Knowledge which is called Mystical Theology consists not in an operation of the intellect, but in an experimental act of love.” St. Bonaventure, in whom mystical theology approaches a formal system, gives a succinct definition as follows: “Mystical theology is the drawing out of the soul in God through desire of love.”¹ The two axiomatic statements belong one to another, shewing that there is an act on the part of man, an outreaching of desire, and that it leads to a Divine Act, wh...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title
• Copyright
• Arthur Edward Waite
• Half title
• Preface
• Contents
• Introduction
• Chapter I The Title of the Quest
• Chapter II Concerning Ineffable Experience
• Chapter III Extent and Limits of Attainment in Christian Mysticism of the Latin Schools
• Chapter IV Derivations and Reflections of the Mystical Term in Post-Reformation Schools
• Chapter V Concerning Union and Identity
• Chapter VI Analogies and Distinctions of Attainment in Records of Eastern Mysticism
• Chapter VII The Path in Christian Mysticism
• Chapter VIII Symbolism of the Christ-Life in the Soul
• Chapter IX Symbolism of the Mystical Marriage
• Chapter X Of Soul and Spirit in Man
• Chapter XI The Mystical Experiment Considered in the Light of Consciousness
• Chapter XII The Reordination of Life and Mind
• Chapter XIII The Mystical State in the World
• Chapter XIV Sacramentalism of Our Inward NATURE
• Chapter XV Of Saving Grace in the Churches
• Chapter XVI The Way of Attainment
• Index