>
Jeanne Guyon’s Apocalyptic Universe
Her Biblical Commentary on Revelation with Reflections on the Interior Life
By
Jeanne de la Mothe Guyon
Introduction and translation from the original french by
Nancy Carol James
Foreword by
William Bradley Roberts
Dedicated to Hannah and Melora
Permissions
Scripture quotations are from New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
Foreword
Some years ago, when I was in my early twenties, I happened into two simultaneous studies of the book of Revelation. I didn’t intentionally seek a study of Revelation. Indeed, because of the ubiquitous appearance in those days of Hal Lindsey’s best-seller, The Late, Great Planet Earth, I found myself avoiding the material of the book of Revelation, not wanting to associate with the latest craze. It was fashionable to take sides in passionate, and often divisive, discussions of this elusive material. Lines were drawn, categories were discovered (or fabricated!), and people seemed to be quite enjoying themselves in what became a kind of internecine warfare among believers. Perhaps because of this unpleasant sport, I found myself avoiding Revelation.
How then did I happen into two studies at once? The parish I belonged to in Houston, Texas (River Oaks Baptist Church) had as its pastor a scholar of impressive skills. This man, the Rev. Dr. Bill G. West, was an extraordinary, theologically progressive preacher. In those days, Baptist parishes, whether conservative or progressive, had a tradition of preaching sermons that lasted thirty to forty-five minutes, easily claiming most of the time allotted for worship. It is a testimony to this pastor, then, that most of his parishioners did not dread, but indeed eagerly anticipated, his sermons. To this day, decades later, I can still recall the content of specific sermons—carefully researched, intelligently prepared, passionately articulated. In my current denomination (Episcopal) hardly anyone would tolerate a forty-five minute sermon, even one of superb quality, so these long speeches impress me all the more in retrospect. Since I was the Minister of Music at this parish, I heard a lion’s share of sermons from this man, often engaging him in conversation about them later. At one point he asked that I take notes on the quality of his content and presentation, which I did.
During the same period I was a member of a nascent Christian theater company, then called the After Dinner Players (now the A.D. Players), that has gone on to become a respectable arts institution in the city of Houston, complete with a fine, permanent theatre that showcases a full season of plays, sacred and secular, and touring companies that perform to audiences far and wide. The founding director Jeannette Clift George had already enjoyed an impressive career as an actress—primarily with Houston’s storied Alley Theater—before she turned to directing and playwrighting. The company was borne of Mrs. George’s zeal for Bible study and her belief that lives (including her own) were transformed by the study of scripture. Though nominated for a Golden Globe (“The Hiding Place”) and highly regarded by theatergoers and critics, she ultimately turned her primary attention from acting to developing the theater troupe, who performed Mrs. George’s own biblically based plays. The performances in those days were in diverse venues: parish halls, church basements, the nave or sanctuary of churches, school auditoriums. Mrs. George began writing her own material out of necessity. She discovered she had the ability to expand stories from scripture that made the characters alive, engaging, and, perhaps most disarming, comical. These characters were interesting, flawed, creative creatures of God, whose humorous foibles made them approachable for audiences. As part of the actors’ weekly training, Mrs. George required regular Bible study. We could attend her own popular, long-established weekly sessions, or else find another class on our own.
So it happened that I was the recipient of two simultaneous studies of the book of Revelation, one taught by my pastor, the other by my director, both of them serious and passionate, but, at the same time, remarkably different. To some extent the two studies touch upon the extremes of Revelation interpretation.
From my pastor I learned a contemporary, theologically progressive handling of the book. This interpretation assumes that most of the events described in Revelation have already occurred. This viewpoint posits that specific, historic events occurred in the first centuries of the Common Era, described by John’s narrative. The reason that much of the language seems vague and confusing today is that we don’t know the details of the events described by John as well as did his contemporary audience, nor do we comprehend imagery commonly understood in the era. Indeed, this perspective claimed that the readers (or hearers) of John’s message would largely have understood. The metaphors, the allusions, the dramatic incidents were not intentionally bizarre or confounding, but would have been relatively clear to people who understood their own environment and context.
From my director I learned a version of Revelation that assumes that the vivid, sometimes frightening, sometimes assuring, words of John describe events that are yet to come. Eschatological and apocalyptic, this version is the more popular interpretation of Revelation. The bizarre creatures and events of Revelation are considered mysteries—that is, the meaning is hidden. Perhaps the most common question is, “When will the events of the last days occur?” The only dependable teaching is found in scripture, “But about that day and hour no one knows, neither the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father” (Matt 24:36). This passage is remarkable in that Jesus states that even he, the Son, did not know the timing of the latter-day events.
Studying with these two teachers simultaneously was a gift. Though as young adults we are often far more dogmatic than our elders, who are old and wise enough to see truth as complex and nuanced, nevertheless, I put my critical faculties on hold and listened attentively to each teacher, attempting to maintain an open mind. I am grateful for this opportunity to study Revelation from two disparate views.
Madame Guyon felt strongly that the Book of Revelation was important for the individual, the church, and the universe. She certainly took a rather literal interpretation of the writings of John, more akin to my director than my pastor. There is a sense in which people who take such a position are likely to be more serious and passionate about Revelation than those who believe the metaphorical language pertains to events already accomplished. After all, if we are convinced that monsters and fire and judgment are headed in our direction, we are inclined to pay attention.
Madame Guyon was a deeply pious woman, and her piety is woven into her writing on Revelation, as is true in her works previously studied by Nancy James. By now Dr. James is thoroughly steeped in the life and theology of Jeanne Guyon, this being her twelfth book on the scholar and mystic. What the reader may expect from Guyon is a book of ardent devotion. Guyon had the fervor of a modern evangelical (though with a broader theological spectrum) in both her reading of scripture and her practice of the Christian life.
Whatever school of thought the reader adopts regarding interpretation of the book of Revelation, she will encounter in James’ translation of Guyon a rich, deep text, full of dynamic movement. Guyon allows the graphic portrayals and dramatic language of Revelation to capture her mind, heart, and imagination. If her personal spirituality sometimes makes twenty-first-century Christians ill at ease, perhaps it is because Guyon spoke of her faith in unapologetic, passionate language not characteristic of our age. Ever the faithful translator, James does not soft-pedal Guyon’s syntax, but allows her to speak as authentically in English as she did the French of her day.
As with her previous translations of Guyon, James writes with such clarity, precision, and natural grace that she makes English sound like the mystic’s first language. Indeed, what the reader most wants in a translator is invisibility—that is, we want to see straight through the translator to the original author. We want the