Third Letter
Most revered Empress,
The exterior fate of each soul stripped of its body will correspond to its interior state, that is, everything will appear to it as it is itself. To the good, all will appear good; evil will only appear to the souls of the wicked. Loving characters will surround the loving soul; the hateful soul will attract hateful creatures. Each soul will see itself reflected in the Spirits that resemble it. The good will become better and will be admitted into circles composed of beings who are superior; the saint will become holier by the mere contemplation of purer and holier Spirits than themselves; the loving Spirit will become more loving still; but also, every wicked being will become worse just by their contact with other wicked beings. If already on Earth nothing is more contagious and more enticing than virtue and vice, love and hatred, so is beyond the tomb, all moral and religious perfection, as well as all immoral and irreligious feelings, must necessarily become even more catchy and more contagious.
You, much honored Empress, you will become all love in the circle of benevolent souls.
What remains in me of egoism, of self-love, of lukewarmness for the kingdom and the purposes of God, will be entirely swallowed by the feeling of love, if it has been predominant in me, and it will purify again incessantly by the presence and the contact of the pure and loving Spirits.
Depurated by the power of our ability to love, widely exercised down here; purified still further by the contact and radiance upon us of the love of pure and elevated Spirits, we will gradually be prepared for the direct sight of the most perfect love, so that it cannot dazzle us, frighten us, and prevent us from enjoying it with delight.
But how, much revered Empress, could a weak mortal dare get an idea of the contemplation of this personified love? And you, inexhaustible charity! How could you approach the one who draws love from you alone, without scaring him and without dazzling him?
I think that in the beginning he will appear invisibly or in an unrecognizable form.
Hasn't he always acted this way? Who loved more invisibly than Jesus? Who better than him knew how to represent the incomprehensible individuality of the unknown? Who better than him to make himself unrecognizable, he who could make himself known better than any mortal or any immortal Spirit? He, worshiped by all heavens, came in the form of a modest worker, and retained the individuality of a Nazarene until death. Even after his resurrection, he first appeared in an unrecognizable form and was not recognized until later. I think he will always retain this mode of action, so analogous to his nature, his wisdom, and his love. It was in the form of a gardener that he appeared to Mary, in the garden where she was looking for him, and where she was already hopeless to find him. Unrecognizable at first, he was only recognized a few moments later.
It was also in an unrecognizable form that he approached two of his disciples, who were walking full of him and longing for him. He walked for a long time beside them; their hearts burned with a holy flame; they felt the presence of some pure and elevated being, but someone else and not him; they did not recognize him until the time of the sharing of bread, when he disappeared, and when they saw him in Jerusalem in that same evening. The same took place on the shores of Lake Tiberias, and when, beaming in his dazzling glory, he appeared to Saul.
Like all our Lord's actions, all his words and revelations are sublime and dramatic!
Everything follows a continuous march that, always pushing forward, approaches more and more a goal that is not the final goal, though. Christ is the hero, the center, the main character, sometimes visible, sometimes invisible, in this great drama of God, so admirably simple and complicated at the same time, that will never have an end, although having seemed finished a thousand times.
He always appears, unrecognizable first, in the existence of each of his worshipers. How could love refuse to appear to the loving one, just when this needs it the most?
Yes, you, the most human of men, you will appear to men in the most human way! You will appear to the loving soul to whom I write! You will appear to me also, unrecognizable first, and then you will make yourself known to us. We will see you an infinite number of times, always different and always the same, always more beautiful as our soul improves, and never for the last time.
Let us rise more often to this intoxicating idea that I will try, with God's permission, to clarify more fully in my next letter, and to impress you more by a communication given by a deceased.
September 1st, 1798
Lavater
