I confess it is beyond our power to awaken the heart, but

In the words of Thomas Hooker—“I confess it is beyond our power to awaken the heart, but ordinarily this way does good.”—we are reminded of the deep mystery of the heart. He acknowledges a limit: that no man, by reason alone or by outward instruction, can force the heart into awakening. The stirring of true conviction, the flame of love or repentance, lies beyond the hand of human will. And yet, Hooker affirms, there are paths, disciplines, and practices that, while not sufficient of themselves, often prepare the soil for that sacred stirring.

The ancients knew this paradox well. Socrates, through his dialogues, confessed that he could not implant wisdom into another; he could only act as a midwife, helping to bring forth what was already latent within the soul. So too does Hooker’s confession echo this truth: the awakening of the heart belongs to a mystery beyond human mastery. Man may labor, reason, and persuade, but the final spark descends from a higher power.

This humility does not lead to despair, but to reverence. For Hooker admits that though we cannot command the heart, we can still walk in ways that “do good.” Prayer, reflection, study, and kindness may not guarantee transformation, but they clear the channels through which grace may flow. Just as a farmer cannot command the rain, yet still tills the soil and plants the seed, so must we labor in good, trusting that what is beyond us may yet descend.

History bears witness to this principle. St. Augustine, before his conversion, read many books and pursued many philosophies, yet his heart remained restless. It was not until the words of Scripture struck him—“Take and read”—that his soul awakened. The study, the searching, the wrestling “did good,” though the final awakening came by a power beyond his own. In this way, Hooker’s words hold true: our efforts prepare, but they cannot command.

Thus, let this wisdom endure: the heart is a sanctuary no man can breach by force. It opens only to the touch of mystery, to the breath of the divine. Yet though we cannot awaken it ourselves, we are not idle—we walk in paths that shape us, we labor in good, we trust in powers beyond our reach. For it is in this blend of humility and persistence that true transformation is born, and the sleeping heart is at last stirred to life.