Christian psychology, on average, is more comfortable with the topic of 'communion with God' than with the topic of 'union' with God. Humans are, after all, something other than, and something separate from, God. To commune with God - to be in community with God - is a straightforward concept, attested by Scripture, the early church, the modern church, and by one's own experience. To be in 'union' with God, however, is a concept so foreign, and so easily twisted into heresy, that one hesitates to entertain it.
In the New Testament, Peter declares, "I am a sinful man!" (Luke 5:8), emphasizing his otherness, his separation from God, while at the same time confessing Jesus as divine. While doctrines of salvation and justification and sanctification resolve our separation from God, it is not at all clear that they resolve our being 'other' than God. After all, He is the Creator, and we are creatures.
So we explore what scholars have written on the topic. Theologian Frank Seilhamer, while possibly heterodox, conducts careful textual study on the topic, and writes:
Anyone who reads the Old Testament with perception, and comes to grips with Luther's theology, cannot fail to see that for each God is no far-off deity, worshiped at a distance, and operative in his universe and world only as an impersonal Principle! He is a God who is personally, and continually, in touch with man right where man lives.
God is immanent as well as transcendent. As omnipresent, He is everywhere, and so He is in places far from us. As sinless and holy, He is above us and wholly other (Isaiah 55:9). As omniscient, His consciousness are knowledge are greater than ours both in degree and in kind. Yet as omnipresent, He is always with us. As omniscient, He knows our thoughts. As incarnate, He experiences what it is to live in flesh. His indwelling of us - fueled by Word and Sacrament - is the most intense form of His immanence.
The pages of the Old Testament throb with a sense of the nearness of God. Yahweh speaks to man, walks with him, leads him, and at times chastens him. While "Holy," and in many ways "Other," he is a God who has his feet "on the ground" he created. Yahweh is always where man is, rather than spinning around the spheres in splendid isolation.
Yet the phrase 'mystical union' nudges the reader to something more than immediacy or immanence. The marriage metaphor - in the Old Testament prophets and the New Testament Pauline epistles - plays off the phrase 'the two shall become one flesh' (Gen. 2:23, Matt. 19:5, Mark 10:8, Eph. 5:31). The number of times the phrase is used indicates intentionality. Paul explicitly tells us, first, that it is a mystery, and second, that 'it refers to Christ and the church' (Eph. 5:32). Likewise, the pervasive power of the marriage allegory in the prophets begs the reader to render the words into an understanding more direct than allegorical. In a complex passage (Malachi 2:10 through 2:16), the violated marriages of the nation to God and of a man to his wife become so enmeshed with each other that their two separate violations are one. Thus the word 'union' comes into play, describing a relationship between God and man in which God is indeed immanent, but more than immanent.
Luther's writings, too, are filled with the same understanding of God. For the Reformer, God is one who is able to communicate with him within arm's reach. Whether in the Sacrament of the Altar, in the mouths of preachers, or in the middle of a farmer's field, God is never separated from man by distance. God is nearer than hands and feet.
Logically entailed by this relationship is communication. A 'mystical union' with God would mean receiving messages from Him, and immediately so. These messages are not only without mediation, but presumably frequent and rich in content.
Because of this awareness of the presence of God, both the Semites and Luther lived with
the expectation and with the habit of receiving such messages. Dialogue with the Deity would be routine under such circumstances. Believers live with open
ears and opened eyes to hear and watch for the personal activity of God, and its significance for them. Whatever hardships they had to endure, each was undergirded by the belief that God was never out of ear-shot, nor too far away to help. God was an ever-present reality. He was personally involved in his world and their destinies. This assurance added a dimension to their lives that is often missing from the lives of men who think of God as nothing more than a remote "First Cause" or "Eternal Principle," if they think of him at all.
A Semitic worldview rules out both a mind-body substance dualism, like Descartes posits, and a materialism, like Marx posits. It also rules out an idealism like Berkeley's. For the Hebrew, the physical body and the metaphysical soul were not merely related, as in a Cartesian system, but rather were united. This prevents the Semitic thinker from treating the mind separately from the body (or the soul or the spirit or the heart), yet allows an acknowledgement of the distinction between the physical and the metaphysical.
To the primitive Semites, man was conceived of as a physic, and physical, whole. Differing from Platonic philosophy with its dichotomy of body and soul, the ancient Hebrew made no distinction between the psychical and the physical in human personality. As Johs. Pedersen, H. Wheeler Robinson, and Aubrey Johnson have pointed out, in Israelite thought psychical functions have physical basis, so that man is conceived of, not in some analytical fashion as "soul" and "body," but synthetically, as a psychical whole.
Given the nature of the Semitic worldview and the Hebrew metaphysical schema, vocabulary stumbles in translation. The Hebrew word often rendered into English as 'soul' does not comfortably fit into that English-language category. The word is nefesh, and as Seilhamer notes, doesn't easy denote a substance or object which is totally distinct from physical objects.
Thus while the Hebrew refused to divide the nefesh into body-soul categories he did maintain that the nefesh in its "fullness," could extend itself in time and space. Since the Hebrew could not split the personality, wherever the nefesh could be extended there the "whole" man was assumed to be, in all his power, authority, and responsibility. Whether it was his word, his children, his kinsmen, his name, or his possessions, he had a channel through which he himself, as a person, not a disembodied "soul," could be present to act and be acted upon.
Having conceptualized the human soul as something which doesn't easily fit either into the category of physical objects, or into the category of metaphysical objects, and which yet somehow (not easily) fits into both categories, it is not surprising that the Semites thought that God Himself likewise might be not exactly metaphysical, and not exactly physical, and yet somewhat both. In this murky Hebrew ontology, notions like a 'mystical union' seem more possible - if less intelligible - than in the metaphysics of Thomist Scholasticism.
What the Hebrews believed about the extendibility of the human nefesh was paralleled by a like concept about the extension of the divine Personality. Holding to the premise that God had created man in his image, they found nothing incongruous in applying to God attributes and characteristics that were common to themselves.
The notion of a 'mystical union' is made possible, in part, by the fact that the Semitic worldview sees God as so closely connected with His creation that He does more than use it to achieve His goals; He inhabits His creation, and the actions performed by His creation are extensions of His actions. The creation is more than an implement or tool, used in an instrumental fashion by God. It is a garment worn by God. One can veer dangerously close to pantheism in such thoughts; so let us deliberately state that we are not dabbling in pantheism. But one walks a tightrope over a sea of heresy when one explores the topic of a 'mystical union' with God.
Thus, as the nefesh of man was able to reach beyond the contours of the body, God was able to extend himself through various media. Whatever he created could be, and often was, a vehicle through which the Creator manifested himself to his creation. God was not an impersonal, static, far-off "concept" or "idea." The "God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob" was a personal, dynamic, ever-present, ever-working, ever-speaking deity who was constantly involved in the activity of the men he made!
Language both limits and forms our concept of God and of our relation to Him. God is "with" us, and He is "in" us. We are "in" Him. Prepositions are originally and primarily spatial, but in such discourse, the meaning is not spatial, or at least not primarily so. God is not "in" me the way my sandwich, which I ate five minutes ago, is "in" me. I am not "in" God in the same manner in which I am "in" my house. God is "with" us, but not as our fellow hikers are "with" us on a hike through the countryside.
Whether the Hebrews were in Egypt or Babylonia, whether they were were sojourning in the desert or settled in Canaan, whether they were were in bondage or free, Yahweh was where they were. In objects, people, even the declaration of his name in the benedictions pronounced over the people, the Lord made himself present with his people. Though no object could be said to "hold" God in the sense that the creation could capture Yahweh and make the Creator synonymous with the creation, nevertheless, in as many ways as there were creations God could, and did, draw near and stand personally before, and among, his own family. Be it the Ark, the Tent of Meeting, the prophets and judges of Israel, or angels, the Hebrews were sure that God could make his power and presence known and real. However different God might be in essence from man, God always was personally with man, whatever his lot and wherever he lived it.
Understanding our presence with God, and God's presence with us, and our communion with each other, is a step on the road to understanding a 'mystical union' with Him.
To understand the theology of Luther one must inevitably come to grips with his concept of the "Word of God." For the doctrine of the "Word" is the centerpole around which his entire theological system resolves. It has been said that the "Word" is the integrating principle for all his writings and thought. Indeed, one prominent scholar has said that, "he lived by the 'Word of God' he lived for the 'Word of God.' It is no mistake, the, when interpreters of Luther take his doctrine of the 'Word of God' as one of the most important keys to his theology."
Returning to the linguistic focus, the preposition 'in' occupies a central role in Scripture's explanation of its own role: the Christian is "in" God's Word (John 8:31), and God's Word is "in" the Christian (John 15:7). This same preposition is likewise central to the conceptualization of the Sacraments: the Body and Blood of Jesus are, in Luther's famous formulation, "in, with, and under" the bread and wine, and that Presence is in the believer who has received the Sacrament.
So, in the Sacraments as in the Scriptures and in the ministry of preaching, Luther sees God himself personally present, operative, saving, enlightening and strengthening man. That God chooses to use these varied "masks" to impart his own undivided Majesty can only be attributed to the Divine generosity and love, which employs as many avenues as necessary to carry out his work. Wherever the "Word" is "spoken," through whatever "mask," it is the same God who "speaks," and in each case, the content of his "speaking" is the same, God himself stands before man.
Entailed by the Semitic refusal to draw a clear boundary between the physical and the metaphysical, the Hebrew worldview deliberately blurs the line between the concept of God and the physical active presence of God.
For both the ancient Hebrews and Luther God was no static academic "concept." When they spoke of the "word" of this God they were referring to nothing less than the amazing creative, redemptive activity of Yahweh himself among his people. The "word" was a vital, rich, dynamic Presence that undergirded all that existed. The "word" was the one, true, all-powerful, all-loving God in action.
Whether or not one goes so far as to say that the Semitic ontology is monist, or whether one wishes merely to say that the Hebrew worldview refuses to make a clear distinction between the physical and the metaphysical, or between the concept of God and the physical actions undertaken by God, its anti-Platonism sets the stage for the concept of a 'mystical union' between God and the believer. A Platonic scheme would not only make the union impossible, it would make it unintelligible. Joseph Stump writes:
There is a mystical union of God and the believer, which is taught in the Scriptures and experienced by the Christian, but which is difficult to describe. Chronologically its beginning coincides with regeneration and justification; logically it follows upon them, and forms the next stage in the order of salvation. It is not to be interpreted as simply an activity of God in us, but possesses the nature of a personal fellowship (I John 1:3). God lives in the believer, and the believer in God. It is the starting point and living source of that progressive sanctification which begins in the justified man and continues to be end of his earthly life.
Again, close reading of Scripture draws our attention to the language of relation. Joseph Stump reviews the evidence from the text: the preposition 'in' continues to play a central role, but 'with' is also important:
The Scriptures teach not only that by faith man is justified and forgiven, but that Christ dwells in him, and through Christ the Holy Trinity. St. Paul declares of Christians that they are in Christ (Rom. 8:1) and again that Christ is in them (Gal. 2:20). They live in fellowship or communion with God (I John 1:3). Not only does the Holy Spirit dwell and work within them, so that they have the earnest of the Spirit in their hearts (I Cor. 1:22), the witness of the Spirit that they are God's children (Rom. 8:16) and the sealing with the Spirit of promise (Eph. 1:13), but the Father and the Son also come to believers and take their abode in them (John 14:23). Christ is in the believers (Col. 1:27) and they in him (Rom. 8:1). As many as have been baptized into Him have put on Christ (Gal. 3:27) and are in the Lord (Rom. 16:11) and are made nigh because they are in Him (Eph. 2:13) and are free from condemnation (Rom. 8:1). They are members of His body, of His flesh and of His bones (Eph. 5:30), members of Christ (I Cor. 6:15) and partakers of the divine nature (II Pet. 1:4). Christ lives in them (Gal. 2:20) and dwells in their hearts by faith (Eph. 3:17), is in them (Rom. 8:10), and is to be formed in them (Gal. 4:19). The believers are members His body (Rom. 12:4,5); they are united with Him as the branch with the vine (John 15:5), and their life is His life flowing through them.
The mystical union, precisely because it is mystical, defies, according to Stump, precise formulation. Prepositions like 'in' or 'with' and other parts of speech are approximations, metaphors, or allegories. Just as a word like 'beauty' or 'harmony' cannot fully transmit the experience of viewing a painting or hearing a song, respectively, so also the mystical union cannot be fully communicated in words.
This union, as its name indicates, is a mystery. It is experienced by the believer, but cannot adequately be put into words. The fullness of the experience is proportioned to the degree of faith and sanctification. The union is established when the sinner comes to faith and is justified, and grows more close, intimate, and strength-giving as his sanctification increases. The spiritual life which he leads has its source and vitality in Christ. Believers live in Christ, and He in them, and His life flows into and through them. Without Him they can do nothing (John 15:5).
Perhaps precisely because it defies formulation, dogmatic and systematic theologians have avoided detailed discussion of the mystic union. Anticipating Wittgenstein, they are silent about it, and by describing carefully everything else, reflect in their careful omissions what it is. Sometimes more is revealed in what is not said than in what is said.
This doctrine is not contained in the Augsburg Confession or in the Apology; and the Formula of Concord barely touches it. It was developed by the later dogmaticians, Calovius, Quenstedt, Koenig and Hollazius, to guard against the pantheistic conceptions of the mystics, and at the same time to do justice to the partial truth contained in false doctrines of Schwenkfeld, Weigel and Osiander. The Formula of Concord does not develop the idea of the mystical union, but has this to say: "For although in the elect, who are justified by Christ and reconciled with God, God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, who is eternal and essential righteousness, dwells by faith (for all Christians are temples of God the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, who also impels them to do right); yet this indwelling of God is not the righteousness of faith of which Paul treats and which he calls the righteousness of God; but it follows the preceding righteousness of faith, which is nothing else than the forgiveness of sins and the gracious acceptance of the poor sinner alone for the sake of Christ's obedience and merit" (579, 54). It rejects the teaching "that not God Himself but only the gifts of God dwell in the believer" (581,65). The mystical union is defined by Hollazius as "the spiritual union of the Triune God with the justified man, by which He dwells in him as in a consecrated temple with a special presence, and that a substantial one, and operates in him by a gracious influx" (p. 932)
Transitioning from the theologians to the mystics, we look at San Juan de la Cruz - also known as 'St. John of the Cross' - and his writings. In his book The Ascent of Mount Carmel, which takes the form of a commentary on another his works, The Dark Night of the Soul, he describes a process in which the soul becomes that which participates in a mystical union. As the soul rejects anything which competes with God for its loyalty, as the soul cleanses itself of any traces which those idolatrous competitors with God might have left in it, and as it attains to a new understanding of and love for God, it becomes so close to God that it might become a reflection of Him — as Leibniz might say, the identity of indiscernibles. To be sure, the soul cannot 'cleanse itself' - God must cleanse it. But we will interpret him charitably:
By these three things it is signified that any soul that will ascend this mount in order to make of itself an altar whereon it may offer to God the sacrifice of pure love and praise and pure reverence, must, before ascending to the summit of the mount, have done these three things aforementioned perfectly. First, it must cast away all strange gods — namely, all strange affections and attachments; secondly, it must purify itself of the remnants which the desires aforementioned have left in the soul, by means of the dark night of sense whereof we are speaking, habitually denying them and repenting itself of them; and thirdly, in order to reach the summit of this high mount, it must have changed its garments, which, through its observance of the first two things, God will change for it, from old to new, by giving it a new understanding of God in God, the old human understanding being cast aside; and a new love of God in God, the will being now stripped of all its old desires and human pleasures, and the soul being brought into a new state of knowledge and profound delight, all other old images and forms of knowledge having been cast away, and all that belongs to the old man, which is the aptitude of the natural self, quelled, and the soul clothed with a new supernatural aptitude with respect to all its faculties. So that its operation, which before was human, has become Divine, which is that that is attained in the state of union, wherein the soul becomes naught else than an altar whereon God is adored in praise and love, and God alone is upon it.
The mystical union with God, then, might be seen in Jeremiah's imagery of the potter, or in Isaiah's image of refining: as the soul of the believer is continually sanctified, it becomes ever more Christlike. As it becomes more like Jesus, it shares His characteristics, and sheds qualities which He does not have. Although not a strict ontological union, the soul which has been so formed and reformed will be so much in harmony, so much in sync, with God that it will indeed feel - the word word 'feel' reflects the experiential nature of the concept of the mystical union - a unity with God.
