I'm coming back to earth, bit by bit. I keep thinking about how much and how I can put into words everything that I feel.
I went to WalMart to pick up a ready to bake pizza. Every thing looked new to me, as though I were seeing it for the first time. I was in awe of the colors and the movement.
And it was like I was in two parts.
And one part of me was just noticing people. People were everywhere. They came in all shapes and sizes and ages and attitudes. The mother behind me was frazzled, her child persistent. The man in front of me was thin and stooped and buying stuff for tacos. The guy at the cash register was frustrated and harried.
I was in awe of these people, of their reality, their bewildering uniqueness. I thought, it was people like these that crushed Christ on every side as He walked through their town, or followed Him out to the barren places. Real, normal, day to day people. These people, His people.
He loves them, not from a distance, or in theory, but exactly right where they are, as they are dressed, in the attitudes that they have, with all that they are.
But there was another part of me. And that part of me was religiously judgmental of everything that I saw, and arrogant. And every time I felt this arrogance lift its head in me, I felt horror and embarrassment.
I thought, here I am, in the very presence of Christ, and a part of me is wanting to religiously judge people and lift myself above them. The bitter irony of it just grieved me and horrified me.
Every time I felt this awful arrogance, I threw myself down before Him and cried to Him to take it away from me and to forgive me. But mostly, for the love of God, to take it away from me. And I would yield myself over and into Him and I would feel the weight of it come off me.
But it happened over and over again.
In the night, I lay siege to Him with my questions. I like the night, the quietness of the night. All my attention and inner ear are open. I pester Him incessantly and keep myself up. I am like a giddy four year old at a sleep over.
Then I began to understand why I was feeling that way and where it was coming from. But still I asked Him, why won't you take it away? It's so unsightly. He brought to mind an old remembered verse about how we are gradually being made into His image, and immediately I was comforted, even though I couldn't remember that verse very well.
So this morning, I looked the verse up. This is it in the Message:
Whenever, though, they turn to face God as Moses did, God removes the veil and there they are—face-to-face! They suddenly recognize that God is a living, personal presence, not a piece of chiseled stone. And when God is personally present, a living Spirit, that old, constricting legislation is recognized as obsolete. We're free of it! All of us! Nothing between us and God, our faces shining with the brightness of his face. And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.
2 Corinthians 3:16-18
Astounding, yes? Here it is in the Amplified Bible:
But whenever a person turns [in repentance] to the Lord, the veil is stripped off and taken away.
Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty (emancipation from bondage, freedom).
And all of us, as with unveiled face, [because we] continued to behold [in the Word of God] as in a mirror the glory of the Lord, are constantly being transfigured into His very own image in ever increasing splendor and from one degree of glory to another; [for this comes] from the Lord [Who is] the Spirit.
2 Corinthians 3:16-18
He is so elegantly, perfectly articulate. He is so on point, as it were.
After a while, I had read all of Mark and Luke and John. So I decided, why not venture a little outwards? So I read I John.
I was astounded to realize that all John was saying was everything that Jesus had said to John. This is such an elementary thing; of course that's true. I just never realized it before.
But there were some weird things in I John that I didn't understand. When I came across them, I was all, what the heck is he saying? What could he possibly mean by that? I didn't understand them in any version.
But I had learned something earlier. After I wrote the blog about how He carried His own words for me, I thought, how do I know if that's true? I don't know that there's any Biblical context for that. That's a weird thing to say He's doing.
Then I got all worried, like, I was expected to know and understand everything all at once. I used to believe that, of all things. Poor me. No wonder my Christianity was crushing the life out of me.
So, in the morning, I got up and eventually finished reading whatever Gospel it was that I was in the middle of at the time. (It was Luke) And it was at the part where Christ had already risen from the dead and met the two disciples as they were walking along the road. And He explained the scriptures to them, and joins them for dinner and then vanishes.
And they say to each other, why didn't we know it was Him? Didn't our hearts burn within us as He opened up the scriptures to us?"
And I just stared at the phrase and felt wonder all through me. If He chooses to leave some scriptures closed to me, that's His business. I don't have to worry about it.
In fact, it's like this:
"Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly."
Matthew 11:28-30, The Message
