“The Holy Spirit” is the second chapter of Fire and Spirit, volume four of Inner Land. Notably, this is the only chapter in the book that Arnold dedicates to one person of the Trinity. There are no corresponding chapters on God the Father or Jesus Christ. This does not mean that Arnold’s theological approach is unbalanced, though; he offers regular reflection on the person and work of Christ, and the Trinity appears at key points in his writing. It does, however, speak to the purpose of Inner Land, with its focus on the life of the believer and the church, themes that have typically been associated with the Holy Spirit in historical Christian thought.

Arnold opens this chapter with a reflection on the theme that characterizes the whole book: the inner life. “The gift of inwardness is a two-edged sword,” he writes, because it is not only the truth of God but the darkness of Satan that can be sought here (63). Indeed, the Holy Spirit is engaged in constant battle with demonic spirits over the inner person, because human beings lack the strength to win this spiritual battle on their own.

While people cannot lift themselves beyond the merely human, they nonetheless long to do so. And they might even experience some measure of apparent success in this. But “because our spirit is so closely bound up with our psychophysical makeup, it comes under the same judgment as our body” (64). The human spirit needs to be renewed by the Holy Spirit if its aims are to align with God’s kingdom.

As such, a “national ideal” (64) is not any better equipped for elevating the inner person than any other human ideal. Its origin is in the concerns of flesh and blood, not those of the Spirit. Clearly informed by the fanatical nationalism of his Nazi contemporaries, Arnold offers further comment on “nations that let themselves be led by nothing but their racial community” (65). These groups “fall under the law of hate, which paves the way for death and for belonging to the kingdom of death” (65). Moreover, the unity of the nation can never achieve the unity of the kingdom of God, where “the children of all peoples” – not a single nation – “are children of the one God” (66).

It is the Spirit who makes believers God’s children. In the resurrection, he revealed Jesus to be the Son of God and he also confers sonship upon believers. In addition to the Spirit’s relationship to Jesus, Arnold touches on Jesus’ relationship to the Spirit: “Christ alone is God’s crowned one, so completely inundated and penetrated by the Spirit that no spark of his life was separated from the living flame of love” (66). Interestingly, Arnold adds an extra clause to the verse from Isaiah that Jesus quotes at the beginning of his ministry. Not only does the Spirit anoint Jesus for work among the poor and oppressed (Luke 4:16–19), but “he has anointed me [Jesus] king of the kingdom” (67). Arnold likely understood Jesus’ anointing by the Spirit to have royal connotations, something that the general reader might not pick up on.¹

As king, Jesus proclaims his kingdom of freedom to the oppressed. With his spirit of love, he drives out Satan and the other spirits, liberating people and opening the path to renewal. But Jesus’ work cannot be recognized by those “held captive by their emotions and their blood” (68). They require the Holy Spirit because “only the Holy Spirit himself recognizes the Holy Spirit” (68). Relatedly, we can only address Jesus as Lord through the Spirit, and this means being united with other believers in the church – something Arnold will explore in more detail later. Here Arnold adds that the Spirit’s work is God’s work, perhaps in order to emphasize his unity with the Father and Son or to remind readers that the Spirit’s work is in no way of human origin.

Next, Arnold reflects on the meaning of being liberated by Jesus through the Spirit. Those who are liberated are eternally free children of God; they are no longer slaves. The hierarchies that mark human relationships defined by social status have no place in the kingdom: “All the unchildlikeness of human greatness or degrading servitude is banned from this covenant” (69). Everything belongs to God, and his children are free to enjoy his gifts without the restrictions that different social statuses impose.

Through the Spirit, believers live in the power of the future even before it has come to pass. They can also be certain that God will keep his promises because the Spirit assures them as the seal of this future. In addition to this certainty, the Spirit fulfills God’s will in the church and “implants what is true and good, what is just and holy” in the lives of believers (71). Conversely, the Spirit brings an end to evil works and even the desire to do them. (Arnold’s claims at this point align with what is traditionally treated under the doctrine of sanctification, the renewing work of the Spirit in human beings, though he himself doesn’t use this term.)

Renewal in the Spirit is related to the Christian practice of baptism. Indeed, Arnold refers to this process as “baptism” without much qualification, evoking an image of people being immersed in the Spirit as they grow into new life. He addresses the practice itself a few pages later: “The so-called baptism of a person who has not perceived anything of this Spirit can have no validity for Christ even if it pointed toward him” (74).

During his doctoral studies, Arnold came to reject infant baptism, which was practiced by Catholics, Lutherans, and others. He remained committed to adult baptism, and this was one factor that led to the Bruderhof joining the Hutterites. Here Arnold dismisses the argument that infant baptism remains valid even if it doesn’t coincide with the gift of the Holy Spirit.² For him, repentance and expectation of the kingdom are to precede baptism, which itself is followed by the gift of the Spirit. Besides this brief note and minor allusions elsewhere in the book, though, Arnold’s theology of baptism is not a major feature of Inner Land.³

This mention of baptism emerges in the wider context of the relationship between forgiveness and renewal: “The forgiveness of sins that prepares the way for the kingdom culminates in a longing for the Holy Spirit, that through him it would be possible to lead a life worthy of God’s kingdom” (74). Jesus’ pre-Pentecost declaration of the forgiveness of sins (e.g., Luke 24:47) is followed by the gift of the Spirit at Pentecost, the Spirit who puts an end to sin and brings new life. For Arnold, this claim underscores the unity of the Jesus who forgives and the Spirit who renews. And although he doesn’t mention it, it also recalls Reformation discussions over the relationship between justification (the event of being forgiven and declared righteous) and sanctification (the gradual process of being renewed by the Holy Spirit), which were typically seen as distinct but inseparable events.

Arnold proceeds to explore the unity of the church and the unity of the Trinity with respect to the Spirit. First, extending Jesus’ metaphor for the church in John 15, symbolized by a vine and its branches, Arnold suggests that the Spirit “is the sap of life that brings unity to the living organism called the church” (75). Next, though already exemplified in his reflections on the Spirit so far, Arnold explicitly addresses the issue of unity between Father, Son, and Spirit in the Trinity. Passages from Jakob Böhme and Peter Riedemann occupy most of the text at this point, drawing on the ancient images of speaker, word, and breath, as well as fire, heat, and light to illustrate the unity of the Trinity.⁴

Unlike many historical thinkers who have written on the Trinity in order to address particular theological controversies, however, Arnold’s interest in divine unity does not appear to be apologetic. Rather, the little that he does dedicate to this subject appears in the more concrete, practical context of the church, “whose unity is God’s unity” (78). Church unity is only possible on the basis of the unified nature and work of Father, Son, and Spirit. Conversely, the unity of the Trinity is an essential part of the church’s witness: “That God is in himself indivisibly united (as the Father with the Son in the Spirit) is revealed today in the complete unity of the church, and here alone” (81).

Of course, the church has consistently fallen short of this witness. There is a significant contrast between the church of Pentecost and “the icy rigidity of our Christianity today” (81), which separates people’s spiritual and physical needs. But the believers of Pentecost followed Jesus’ example in abandoning their possessions and holding everything in common with others. As such, “no one could suffer a lack of clothing, food, or any other necessity of life,” and the church “established a completely different and undreamed-of new world” (85).

Despite its originally revolutionary character, though, the church began to compromise on these commitments. This had significant implications for its relationship to the Spirit, the power of love that animated it in its sacrificial way of life. The Spirit is “delicate” and “more sensitive than all other forms of life when he is confronted with anything coarse or gross” (85). As such, though he indwells the believer, “he retreats when the inner vision is not concentrated on him alone, when other spirits are given room beside him” (86). It is better for a person to die and have the Spirit remain than entertain other spirits in order to avoid death but lose the Holy Spirit. The first is the way of Jesus; the second has characterized the majority of church history. Nonetheless, just like at Pentecost, the Spirit comes “again and again like a very rare gift of God” (87).⁵ Those faithful to Jesus might face violence and even death, but the Spirit within them cannot be killed.

When the Spirit brings unity to the church, he does not force it on people: “Unity cannot be ‘made.’ Joy and love cannot be forced” (88). In particular, Arnold is referring to community of goods, sharing all things in common, which exemplifies the unified church. Genuine sharing is organically motivated by the Spirit and not compulsion. Moreover, there is no “class hatred” in this community (88), a reference to the antagonism between the working class and the bourgeoisie (e.g., business owners, landlords) that communists of Arnold’s era had fueled. Nor is there any “talk of demanding human rights” (88), a common focus of social reform movements from the same period, which sought more rights for women, children, and workers, for example. Rather, the church of the Spirit is characterized by love for all and the relinquishment of its own rights.

Through the Spirit, the church can be certain of God’s truth: “It never draws back in dismay from any ruling power, however widely recognized” (90). And alongside truth, the Spirit gives love, faith, and strength for action. With these, the church is not threatened by the powers opposed to God. Even where he leads individuals into confrontation with death and great danger, they do not need to fear, because “to venture anything with the Spirit is more serious than death” (92). Indeed, the Spirit has guided the church every step of the way. He was with John the Baptist and Mary before Jesus was born, and the church was given the Spirit from the beginning, extending to “whoever came within the church’s domain” (93), including the “latecomer” Paul, and those involved in ostensibly mundane, administrative tasks, like Stephen. Without the Spirit, there can be no communion with Jesus and the Father; the Spirit makes it possible for believers to pray in a way that is pleasing to God.

Just as God gives the Spirit to all believers, he gives the Spirit without limit. Again, the doctrine of the Trinity informs Arnold’s thinking here: “The Spirit is the living God himself; as the Father and the Son are. The three are one, they are God. The indivisible one gives himself in all his fullness to those ready to obey him” (96). In the same sense that Father, Son, and Spirit are one and indivisible, the Spirit cannot be divided and portioned out. Interestingly, Arnold’s immediate concern does not seem to be something like power – so that a portioned Spirit would mean believers are not given all the strength they need – but truth. The Spirit “has no intention of giving them half-truths” (96). Moreover, because of this, everyone is given the same message; there is no contradiction between what the Spirit says to one person and what he says to another. There is a connection with the person of Jesus here, too, whose words the Spirit fulfills in the church. Conversely, believers know they belong to Jesus when they have the Spirit.

Here, Arnold revisits the theme of the distinction between the Holy Spirit and the human spirit introduced at the beginning of the chapter: “The work of the Spirit honors no one but God. Everything he does contrasts the greatness of God with the smallness of man” (97–98). As such, the Spirit cannot be confused with the human spirit. He is not given on the basis of any human worth but as undeserved gift. This also means he is not to be equated with the zeitgeist, the spirit of the times. In contrast, he points to the future of peace that all humanity will share, and he cannot be the possession of any one human group, such as a nation. As God, the Spirit is Creator, independent of anything within creation. He comes to it from outside and “gives an insight that infinitely surpasses all human knowledge and experience of time and space” (99).

Despite this absolute distinction between the divine and human, Arnold places a strong emphasis on the entity of the church, as he does throughout his talks and writings. Indeed, “Whoever believes in the Holy Spirit has faith in the one Christian church of the kingdom of heaven, which is united and common to all believers, the church of God which as the community of saints has the authority to forgive sins and believes in the resurrection of the body” (100). While elsewhere Arnold is quite happy to point out how the wider church lost sight of the gospel throughout the centuries, and while he recognizes human shortcomings within renewal movements, too, here he draws attention to the church as an entity that lives in the Holy Spirit, so that a consistent view of the Spirit requires a healthy affirmation of the church as the site of God’s work in the world. As such, Arnold can even say, “Like Mary the virgin, the church, through the Holy Spirit, is the eternal mother. Without her there are no children.” (101). Although he does not develop this claim further, these words hint at an analogy between Jesus as divine and human and the church as instituted by God and constituted of human beings.

Particularly significant for Arnold in this connection is the unity of the church, hinted at already in his comments on the non-contradictory message of the Spirit across different groups within the church. He writes, “The church takes shape only where the Holy Spirit has brought about a life and faith completely at one with the whole glorified band of martyrs and witnesses, with the apostolic mother church of all centuries” (101). The basis for the united faith of the church today and throughout the ages is the church or city above, in heaven, which perfectly corresponds to God’s truth and is mediated to the church below in the Holy Spirit.

Again, this also means that the church cannot be reduced to a single human building or institution. As Arnold vigorously asserts, “The church of Christ is a house of the Holy Spirit and, being built by God, is free of belfries and all the architectural skill of men” (102), recalling intricately designed European cathedrals and churches. But it is difficult to ascertain how literally Arnold should be taken here. The Bruderhof, of course, made do with whatever spaces were available to them for meetings and prayer, but this does not mean that considerations of design were completely set aside, such as the wooden chandelier that hangs in the meeting house and whose seven lamps symbolize Christian unity.⁶ Whatever the case, for Arnold, the grandiose structures of Christendom stand in contrast to “the lowly and childlike Spirit,” “Mary in the stable,” and “Christ on the gallows” (102). The church is to seek its place at Jesus’ side, the lowest place, laying down all its rights on the way.

In view here is the supreme authority of Christ and the direction he gives through the Holy Spirit, so that every human claim to rule must be set aside. Those who make up the church are to be led by the Holy Spirit in everything they do. Indeed, the Spirit holds the church together as it faces the continual threat of bodily death in its witness. And only the Spirit can empower the church for its mission to the world, “the holiest work of all” (105). Importantly, the Spirit protects the church from evil, like a watchman protects his neighborhood at night. Arnold connects this to Christ’s destruction of the devil’s works, taking “the ground from under them” with the possibility of forgiveness (107). When the risen Christ gives his disciples the Spirit in John 20:21–23, he also gives them the authority to forgive sins, so that they can join him in this fight.

Next, Arnold draws on an image of the church presented by the early Christian writer Hermas. Christ constructs the church upon “a great white rock big enough to contain the whole world” (109), and this temple is still being built by the Spirit today. Hermas’s image is complemented by another from the sixteenth-century Hutterite Peter Riedemann, who wrote of the seven divine pillars that form God’s house: fear of God, divine wisdom, understanding, counsel, strength, skill, and kindness, in contrast to the human efforts and values that we want to make the foundation for all things.

These immaterial attributes, upheld by the Spirit, also contrast with the material temple of the Old Testament, though it anticipated the church in its construction. While the temple allowed for God to dwell among his people, “the Holy Spirit dwelt in Jesus as the Godhead embodied in his whole fullness” (110). Notably, the curtain separating the holy of holies from the outer holy place in temple has now been torn and is not a feature of the church.⁷ God’s life and rule are no longer hidden, so “the whole world becomes the parish of his church” (113). Moreover, the daily sacrifices in the temple liturgy have been fulfilled by Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice, which is immediately effective and never needs to be renewed, offering human beings, formerly enemies of God, “an amnesty for all time” through the possibility of forgiveness (114). This forgiveness is followed by the perfect love that God pours into the hearts of believers through his Spirit, allowing them to love him and their neighbors and enemies alike.

Arnold continues with the theme of church as fulfillment of the temple as he brings the chapter to a close. The “bread of the Presence,”⁸ always before God in the Holy Place, anticipates “the surrender of all the means of existence to God’s cause” in the church (115). Now believers gather before God in all places, just as Israel gathered before him in the outer courts when the high priest entered the Holy of Holies. Importantly, with the indwelling of the Spirit, the whole body of each believer becomes the site of God’s presence, his temple, and he removes all impurity, hate, anger, and mammon, which have no place in his house. Jesus’ clearing of the temple is profoundly significant for the way the church conducts its economic life – in complete surrender to God. Arnold closes with two excerpts from his poems on the Holy Spirit, succinctly recalling the themes of this chapter.

Continue:

Introduction
1.1. The Inner Life
1.2. The Heart
1.3. Soul and Spirit
2.1. The Conscience and Its Witness
2.2. The Conscience and Its Restoration
3.1. The Experience of God
3.2. The Peace of God
4.1. Light and Fire
4.2. The Holy Spirit
5.1. The Living Word

1. Individuals in the Bible are anointed for kingship (e.g., 1 Sam. 10:1), priesthood (e.g., Exod. 30:30), and the office of prophet (e.g., 1 Kings 19:16). The passage from Isaiah 61 that Jesus quotes in Luke suggests prophetic work because its focus is on proclamation (cf. Luke 4:24), but its associations do not need to be restricted to this, especially in view of the different functions of anointing in general and the royal imagery used for Jesus throughout the New Testament.

2. Peter “promised they would receive the gift of the Holy Spirit at baptism” (74), writes Arnold, alluding to Acts 2:38. This does not mean that the Spirit is not at work in a person before baptism, however. As he said in 1932, “You can only come to baptism when, through the Holy Spirit and in the strength of Jesus Christ, your trust in God overcomes all inner uncertainty and despondency and the evils that spring from these.” See meeting transcript, December 30, 1932 (EA 36).

3. Arnold goes into more detail on baptism in meeting transcript, January 8, 1933 (EA 54); and meeting transcript, March 27, 1933 (EA 33/115).

4. Arnold’s choice of Böhme as an exemplar here is particularly interesting given the nontraditional and often controversial claims of the latter. E.g., “The eternal Word of the Father, which is the very heart of the Father, is born out of the wrath of darkness through the fire of the Father” (quoted on 77).

5. Outside Inner Land, Arnold regularly refers to various Christian groups who exemplified this. In 1928, for example, he writes about “the most tremendous times in the history of the Spirit of Christ.” He continues, “Early Christianity, the original enthusiasm of Montanism and the Waldensians, the first Anabaptists with their radical community life, and the first Quakers were the strongest points, if we may overlook the Reformers of the sixteenth century for once.” See “Auseinandersetzung mit dem Huttertum” [Reflections on Hutterianism], transcript, November 1, 1928 (EA 28/13). Arnold’s 1935 presentation on the Anabaptists and their forerunners goes into much more detail. Read the annotated two-part series here.

6. The chandelier was designed by Georg Barth, whom Arnold appointed Stilwart (“style warden”) for his sense of the importance of aesthetics in worship and other areas. In 1932, Arnold declares, “Those whose eyes are opened should be enabled to recognize our cause by the beautiful simplicity and uniformity they find here. It must be recognizable, too, in our architecture, the appearance of our rooms, and in everything that goes on and takes shape.” Meeting transcript, December 29, 1932 (EA 35). A later criticism of Christendom suggests that it is the disjunction between practice and professed belief that condemns traditional architecture: “God’s holy dwelling or even the encampment of his city of God is no longer seen in any building constructed by human hands and having tower or spire. God will not grant even the slightest preference to parts of the earth that are said to be Christian. … His worship is no longer to be regarded as rightly offered from a place or temple built by human hands, from a church with a bell tower, or in a church or a service with fixed forms and words. It is to be seen simply and solely in spirit and in truth (John 4).” Meeting transcript, January 1934 (EA 225).

7. The temple was divided into three areas with increasing levels of holiness: the outer courts, where Israelites could worship; the holy place, where priests performed rituals and offerings; and the holy of holies, which could be accessed just once a year, on the Day of Atonement, by the high priest. Originally housing the ark of the covenant, this area was closely associated with God’s presence among his people. The Synoptic Gospels report the curtain separating the holy of holies from the holy place being torn as Jesus died on the cross (Matt. 27:51; Mark 15:38; Luke 23:45).

8. See e.g., Exod. 25:23–30.