Another Desert Story
One day I became sick of the words. Too many words. Too many different words. Everybody paying attention to everybody else's words and thinking their words weren't right because our words are right.
Jesus said "But whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst" and I wondered where that Living Water had gone that I had known before. Now "Living Water" had become part of the words.
Everybody has their way through things, as God's deep cover agent sometimes, and mine was to flee the words and not to speak them for a long time. I could not articulate them at all either by pen or tongue or thought.
Where I wondered and how long it took and the sights I saw are not important here. I saw the devil, I might mention. He wasn't all that after all.
One day, having been content for some time by then just to tend sheep and feed the catfish in the evening, I turned aside because I saw a great sight.
A bush was on fire, blazing with light and energy, but the bush was not consumed. It didn't even change its form, or show any signs at all of being on fire.
Not seeking "it," not speaking "it," not thinking "it," for many years, fine to live the rest of my days away from that din of words and ne'er to journey that way again, only to find "It of Itself" rising up from within as a well of water that has sprung up into everlasting Life.
The bush was me. There was nothing more for the bush to do than to just be there and be its common self. The fire and light burned and shined of themselves, and the bush remained the bush.
You see, that's just it. The whole enchilada, what all the words are about, the simplicity of the gospel, which is simply that we are He living. Simple words. Simple meaning. We are He living, we in our normal human living, our normal human lives, being Christ -- which means not some big holy guy in a seamless robe making holy hand gestures and speaking in a proper British accent like in the movies, but that the LIGHT OF GOD shines out of our earth, our clay, of which we are fashioned by the Potter as He has desired.
"It is HE who hath made us and not we ourselves," but it seems to take big giant konks on the head for us to get that, because we think we by our whatever means make ourselves, by our behaviour or by our right thoughts or right believing or right words and so we keep striving with all those things always with some foot into the thought that "if I was just this, or knew just that, or next week when this happens" then all will be well and THEN you could say you were Christ living because all that stuff worked out. But you never get to the end of striving because there's always something yet to be worked out, yet to be done, that would put you over the top.
"Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
The whole enchilada is that you are He just as you are. There is nothing "you" can do to, for, about, in-spite-of, yourself, that will gain Christ for you.
That was the trick in the Garden. They already were. The devil told them they weren't all they could be, and needed something more to get there. "THEN ... you will be as God."
Isn't that the trick in the so-called "law" or the striving of "self-effort," whether in religious terms or not? You need just this little tweak, and THEN you'll be up to snuff. When the fact is you already ARE.
But you see, everything is against this little simplicity. Flaming cherubim guard the way for one thing, not to mention it sits right by the gates to Hell, so it's precarious going there. There's fire everywhere. There's a good chance everything you bring including yourself is going to get burned up.
And everybody says you can't touch that mountain. Nobody's pure enough, holy enough, to touch the mountain of God, where you can sit and speak with God as friend with friend. If you touch that mountain, you will die, you will be burned up, they warn.
Yet when you are pulled aside to see a great sight in the holy place on the mountain what can you do but gaze in wonder and tell of this glorious sight you have seen? "I know," you say, "that it is forbidden to go onto that mountain, but what could I do? The bush that burned yet did not burn was the most wonderful thing I've ever seen from afar, and I had to go up and see it for myself face to face. And the One I met there, who told me His Name is I AM, has sent me now, to deliver His people, not knowing what I will say or do, or how, except that He Whose Name is I AM has sent me, and promised to fill my mouth."
The simplicity of the truth and the simplicity of faith is what throws us, (because like Naaman the leper we think the solution is surely something much more dramatic and much more taxing on my person than simply dipping seven times in the Jordan -- 2 Kings 5). Grace is unexplained and comes not by reason.
Simply, we are He living, morning, noon, and night. That's it. No further explanations are necessary.
2 Cor 4:
5 For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.
6 For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.
7 But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.
8 We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;
9 Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;
10 Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.
11 For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.
12 So then death worketh in us, but life in you.
13 We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I believed, and therefore have I spoken; we also believe, and therefore speak.