Ruysbroeck and the Mystics: with selections from Ruysbroeck

In Short

This volume serves as a bridge between the modern reader and the medieval Flemish mystic Jan van Ruusbroec, known as "The Admirable." It features a luminous introductory essay by Maurice Maeterlinck, who frames Ruusbroec not as a fevered ascetic, but as a sophisticated philosopher whose quiet contemplations mirror the profound insights of Plato, Plotinus, and the great traditions of the East. The book combines biographical context with a curated selection of Ruusbroec’s own writings, offering a serene, meditative guide to the "spiritual marriage" between the human soul and the divine.

The Story

The narrative arc of the book is one of gradual interior descent. It begins in the bustling, often violent world of the fourteenth century, where Jan van Ruusbroec withdraws from the active priesthood in Brussels to the solitude of the forest of Grönendal. This retreat serves as the opening act of his life’s work: the construction of a "spiritual kingdom" within the self. The story follows his transition from an outward-facing life of clerical duty to a radical, inward-facing life of contemplation.

As the text progresses, we move beyond the historical details of his life—his founding of an abbey, his influence on pilgrims like Gerhard Groot, and his reputation for sanctity—and into the landscape of his mind. The central argument unfolds through his metaphors: the soul as a kingdom to be ruled, the virtues as "scales and fins" for a spiritual fish, and Christ as a "noble emerald" or "sparkling stone." These symbols are not merely poetic; they are the tools Ruusbroec uses to map the path toward what he calls "super-essential" life.

The arc reaches its climax in the description of the soul’s ultimate surrender. Ruusbroec details the exhaustion of reason, the silencing of the senses, and the plunge into the "darkness" of God’s nature. Here, the story concludes not with a final event, but with a state of being: the realization that the soul, while remaining a creature, can exist in a state of simultaneous union with God and engagement with the world. The ending is a paradoxical rest—a "swallowing up" in divine love that persists through sleep and wakefulness, work and idleness. By the final pages, the reader is left with the image of the soul as a mirror, polished clean by love, reflecting the eternal light of a reality that exists beyond words or distinctions.

How It Unfolds

The introduction of the mystic The text begins by dismantling the caricature of the "deluded monk," establishing Ruusbroec as a subtle, rigorous philosopher. It draws parallels between his quiet forest life and the vast, universal traditions of transcendental thought.

The setting of the stage The narrative shifts to the historical Grönendal, a forest retreat where the hermit lives in a century of blood and wars. This contrast highlights the deliberate, necessary peace of the contemplative life.

The architecture of the soul Ruusbroec details the methodical preparation of the inner self, utilizing allegories such as the "seven castles" and the "kingdom of lovers." These passages provide a structural guide for the reader to organize their own inner thoughts.

The encounter with the divine The focus turns to the interaction with Christ, characterized by the imagery of the emerald and the jasper. This section illustrates how the divine presence acts as a light that makes all other existence visible.

The final immersion The book concludes with the highest mode of contemplation, where distinctions between "loving" and "being loved" fade. It describes a state of permanent union where the soul, while still existing in time, rests in the eternal.

The People

Jan van Ruusbroec stands at the center, a man who wants nothing from the external world, seeking only to lose his ego in the "simple essence of God." He is defined by his humility and his "marvellous ignorance," which he transforms into profound wisdom. He is not a man of worldly ambition, yet he becomes a magnet for others, including the mystic Jean Tauler, who seek the clarity he has found in his forest solitude.

Opposite him are the "active" men, those who dwell in the "west of their own being" and remain preoccupied with the outward senses. These figures represent the reader’s own potential distraction, standing as the primary obstacle to the inner life. Ruusbroec does not condemn them; he merely observes that they lack the "wine of inward joy." Finally, there is the figure of Christ, who is not just a historical deity but a living mirror. Christ acts as the mediator, the "Sun of the Soul" who offers both the light of truth and the solace of suffering, providing the ultimate destination for the traveler’s spiritual journey.

In Its Own Voice

"It is not only in heaven and earth, but above all in ourselves, that there are more things than all philosophies can contain."

This reflection underscores the book's core assertion that the deepest mysteries are internal rather than external.

"The soul which studies God must form an idea of Him whom it seeks to know; being aware, moreover, to what greatness it desires to unite itself."

This sentence serves as a cornerstone for Ruusbroec’s method, emphasizing that spiritual growth requires both intellectual focus and a deep, intuitive yearning.

What It's Really About

At its heart, this book explores the possibility of living in two worlds at once: the world of time, labor, and human limitations, and the world of the eternal, where the soul finds its source. It asks how a finite creature can relate to an infinite God without losing its own identity. The argument suggests that the path to this union is not through the rejection of life, but through the rigorous "polishing" of the soul until it reflects the divine. It is a treatise on the nature of love, the mechanics of virtue, and the silence that remains when the intellect finally stops trying to define the undefinable.

Why Read It Today

You should read this book if you are weary of the noise of modern life and seek a voice that values depth over speed. It will appeal to those interested in the history of ideas, as well as anyone drawn to the "perennial philosophy"—the sense that there is a shared, wordless truth beneath all religious traditions.

However, be prepared for its challenges. The language is dense with medieval allegory, and the theological concepts require a patient, meditative pace; this is not a book to be skimmed. You will encounter archaic metaphors—like doves and emeralds—that require you to pause and translate them into your own experience. It carries the weight of a different era, with its specific, cloistered attitudes toward purity and renunciation, which may feel distant to the contemporary mind. Yet, what stays with you is the sheer, quiet confidence of the author. It is a rare experience to read someone who speaks of the "void" and the "sparkling stone" as if they were as tangible as the trees in a forest. It offers a bracing, intellectual stillness that is increasingly hard to find, leaving you with the sense that beneath your own daily busyness, there is a "kingdom" that remains entirely untouched.