Sunday, November 08, 2015
Thursday, November 05, 2015
The Passing of the Former Things
The Passing of the Former Things
Martin Cecil April 16, 1972
Vast changes must come in attitudes, understanding, in the total consciousness of human beings, if there is to be survival. These changes are coming. There are reasons of course as to why this is occurring. Specific causes are at work. But the changes that are coming in the consciousness and experience of human beings may be seen as the coming of the Son of man, the coming of a new state in human experience. These changes are occurring everywhere, not just in a group of people here and another one there, but throughout the whole body of mankind. The lightning shines out of the east even unto the west.
The changes take two forms: one disintegrative and the other integrative. There is an immense amount of turmoil in the consciousness of human beings on earth and there no doubt will be more, simply because the causative factors of change are at work. Where there is a resilience of consciousness the changes may tend to be integrative; where there is resistance, disintegrative. We have this occurring throughout the world and within individual human beings. Those who have subscribed to what they think of as Christianity have presumably been looking toward this day, but most are not too happy about its arrival. And of course there is no general recognition as to what it is that is really happening. But regardless of what anyone believes, what anyone thinks, what anyone does, the changes are coming.
These changes permit movement out of an old state into a new one. This new state may be a most glorious experience on earth or it may be nothing, according to the individual choice in the matter. When I use the word “nothing” I mean nothing—a blank. So we have the opportunity of participating in the changes that are now occurring and will occur, either in a movement toward fulfilment in our own experience or in a movement toward emptiness in our own experience. Presumably there is an interest in the creative movement toward fulfilment. Of course if this is merely a self-centered desire on our part we will find that the movement in our own experience is not toward fulfilment but toward emptiness. But if we recognize that this fulfilment relates to God and is the return of the world to Him, the restoration, the resurrection of the body of the Son of God on earth, and this is our interest and concern, then we may share in whatever that fulfilment is. But of course we cannot rightly have any prejudices, preconceived notions as to what would constitute that fulfilment. However it is quite obvious that a new state of consciousness must be experienced in those who survive. This means also that the old state of consciousness must pass away. There is a great deal to be left behind insofar as what has been present in our consciousness is concerned.
In the Book of Revelation mention is made of the passing of the former things. Usually when such ideas are presented the individual imagines that God gets busy and throws the former things out. But the way the former things pass away is either because human beings are willing to let them go or because human beings decide to go with them. In either case the outworking is successful, but the experience is different for the people concerned. We might be reminded of the beautiful passage in the Song of Solomon: "Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away." Obviously there must be some place to come to, but also there is a place to come from. Unless there is a willingness to let go of the place from which we are to come we cannot come from it. Perhaps many here present have already emerged to some degree out of that state.
If the former things are to pass away the individual must assume the responsibility of letting them go. If the former things are to pass away they will do so only when the individual concerned lets them go. It is not required that human beings should bring all their troubles to the Lord. What is anticipated is that they bring themselves to the Lord and leave their troubles behind, because the Lord is not particularly interested in their troubles. The Lord is not particularly interested in your troubles, if you have any. He is interested in you, and He can't have you as long as you hold on to your troubles.
In this process of change in consciousness which is coming, responsibility must be taken, by those who are to survive, for letting go of the trouble. As servers we assist people to let go of their troubles, but we have some of our own. Perhaps sometimes a server will become so preoccupied with seeking to help others with their troubles that he forgets that he has some to relinquish too. He has his own hang-ups. There is nothing wrong with this as long as he is willing to relinquish them. There is no condemnation in the fact, no judgment. It only begins to become a bone of contention if there is an unwillingness to let go of them.
This process of letting go of the former things, the things that are considered to be so natural and normal in this unnatural and unnormal world, involves a successive experience in this regard—a movement from level to level. We might use an analogy here, relative to what was portrayed by the encampment of the children of Israel. There was the encampment itself of the twelve tribes, and in the midst of those twelve tribes there was the thirteenth tribe, the tribe of Levi, the tribe of the priesthood; and in the midst of the priesthood was the tabernacle. Now the tabernacle itself consisted of the outer court, the holy place and the Holy of Holies. There must be movement in consciousness out of the old state into the new. The ultimate point of the new state is represented by the Holy of Holies. There is a need, therefore, to begin to emerge out of the encampment, moving toward the tabernacle, leaving the former things behind—a movement out of the outer court into the holy place, and finally through the holy place into the Holy of Holies.
This is something for each individual to experience in relationship to himself or herself. The same picture will be true if we should consider the whole body of mankind. Now we can see this in terms of a movement inward, so to speak—a movement away from externals, a movement away from the control of the material world, out of that old encampment. Of course there needs to be a recognition of the fact that the material world is far more than physical things. Physical things are present, of course, and loom very large in the consciousness of most, but there are the things of the mind and the things of the heart. There are the things of the psychic realm, shall we say. Now people are constantly being bugged by the ghosts which roam in the psychic realm, although generally speaking they do not translate them in terms of spiritualism, for instance. But we well know that there is much present in the levels below the level of self-consciousness which is constantly being triggered. There are telepathic connections between people the world around, and there is all kinds of distortion present, which exerts an influence and a control in the lives of people everywhere. There are those who become particularly intrigued by such things, and others of course become particularly intrigued by physical things. It makes little difference in which direction a person goes; it's all the same thing—the material realm. And while sometimes the spiritualistic aspects of it may be dressed up in fancy clothing, it's all part of what needs to be left behind. It's all part of the former things—the things of sorrow and pain, tragedy, disaster. If the former things are to pass away they will only do so because we let them go. If we imagine that they carry weight, then we'll carry that weight around with us.
It's not at all hard for a person to see a lot of things that are wrong in the material realm, but as long as he is subject to that realm, as long as there is self-centeredness remaining, what he sees will be conditioned by what is present in himself. Most of the distortions that people think they see in the world are the distortions which are in themselves. This is not to say that they may not be out there too, but whatever is out there is seen through the colored spectacles of the individual's own self-centered consciousness. He doesn't really see the thing as it is. And some people take pride in their ability to discern all the things that are wrong. If there is a little bit of pride in such an ability it is plain indication of the fact that the individual is seeing what he sees through the distortions of his own self-centered consciousness, because when things begin to be seen clearly the individual has no particular interest in the distortions. They carry no weight insofar as he is concerned. He is not fussing about them, he is not concerned about trying to dispose of them somehow, because he knows very well he can't dispose of them; but they will dispose of themselves. The concern is that people should come out of that state. The concern is with people; not with the distortions, not with the disturbed and conflicting state of affairs in the self-centered world, but with the people who may emerge out of that, the people who exhibit a willingness to let the former things pass away.
Now if you will take an honest look at the state of affairs, you will find that there are very, very few people who are so willing. Lots of people profess to want things to change. They would like to have their consciousness cleared, they say, but their actions belie their words because they are always bringing their troubles with them, looking for someone in whose lap they may be dumped. No one can take care of anyone else's troubles, and it is a most futile thing to try to do it. The only assistance that is of value is that which will help the person to let go of his troubles. Each person must do it for himself. The usual idea is that the Lord is going to come along and He is going to lift your burdens off your shoulders. Not if you don't let them go! If you let them go He doesn't need to lift them off your shoulders; they have already gone. But if you hold on to them, with the changes that are coming, then you accompany your troubles into oblivion. That's the place for them, isn't it? But why go along with them? “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.” Whatever needs to be done by God is being done. It never has ceased to be done. It isn't as though God was going to get rid of man's troubles. Man alone can let his troubles go, and if he is willing to let the former things pass away they will.
All right then, there is movement, where there is such willingness, toward the Holy of Holies, and there are various levels of experience in that movement. It can be seen that from one standpoint there is a movement inwards. But the very moment you experience a new level of consciousness you find that it is a movement outwards, because here you are with a new level of consciousness. In other words the new level of consciousness has come to where you are. It may be seen in the light of your moving to a new level of consciousness, but when you get there you're not anyplace else than you were before and the new level of consciousness has come to where you are.
There are those who try turning within in order to find something remarkable, but they get lost in imagination unless they have the experience without—outside. The true experience is not only that of moving in but it's that of moving out at the same time, and this seems like a paradox. Whatever it seems like, it's the truth! However, in that movement there must be letting go. A person is inclined to think, “Well I'm going to let go now. Everything's going to be gone.” But it's not. You may let something go. And, it has to be quite a specific thing. It isn't just a generalized idea: “I'm going to let go of the former things.” What former things? It must be a letting go of this. People quite happily indulge in imagination in this regard. “Oh yes! I'm letting go of the former things.” They never let go of anything. It was all in imagination, because it must be specific. And there are specific things that will keep coming up to be let go of. Now when they come up there is no condemnation in this fact.
Our Master, when He was on earth, revealed the wonderful nature of Deity. This is very largely ignored in human consciousness. A much stronger idea in the consciousness of human beings relates to the God of the Old Testament: the God of anger, the God of wrath, the God of displeasure, the God who is always upset about His people. That isn't God at all. This is the human view of things. This is man's idea of a God made in his own image and likeness, and that isn't God, very fortunately. To have man the way he is in his self-centered state is bad enough. So that isn't God.
There is this movement toward the Holy of Holies, or the emergence of holiness through the person—it's all one and the same thing—and the consequent necessity of letting go of the former things at each level. There's no problem if the individual is willing to do that; and if something comes up—as it will inevitably—to provide the opportunity for letting go of it, it should be seen as an opportunity and it should not be looked upon as though it were something that the Lord had just thought up: He had just suddenly become aware, “Oh, there's something wrong with you. There's something that you need to let go of.” Well presumably the Lord knew that it was there all the time. His attitude hasn't changed one iota. His attitude has been the same all the way through.
If there seems to be a change of attitude on the part of the Lord, on the part of His representative, whoever he is, and that representative is a true representative, it is really a change of attitude in the person concerned. That person hadn't seen it before, but it begins to come within the range of his vision and he interprets that as being condemnation on the part of the Lord. The Lord hasn't changed His attitude at all; He saw it right along anyway; but it never came up before, never came up to be relinquished. When it comes up to be relinquished let's let it go. In order to let it go a good look must be taken at it. The individual can't avert his eyes and let it go. This is a deliberate thing, and there must be something of an admission on the part of a person that maybe the Lord sees something that he didn't. Obviously the person didn't see it before or presumably he would have happily let it go before.
When this process of movement from level to level occurs there is always an experience which has been described in various ways: the experience of the abyss of nothingness, or the pit of blackness or whatever, and no one should ever think that this is just a cross that he personally has to bear alone. No one can move into the experience of increased holiness without passing through these levels, which include the abyss of nothingness. The difference is that, to start with, we think it's a tragic experience when we find ourselves with a more or less blank state. “I thought I was doing so well and coming along so well and now look what's happened!” What's happening is what should happen. The point is, What is your attitude to what's happening? Are you going to keep coming? Or are you going to say, “Oh, well I don't like this,” and go running back into the encampment to pick up the former things?
Now many have done this, and they tend to just go back and forth. They come out of the encampment into the outer court and then back into the encampment again, and that of course, is a very discouraging experience. But it's a self-imposed experience, a self-imposed discouragement in other words. When a person complains about discouragement he is always blaming somebody else. But it never is somebody else. It always is oneself. After all, if you feel discouraged it's you who are feeling discouraged and nobody else. Oh others may be sharing the discouraged experience, but I'm thinking about your personal discouragement. That's the one that you're concerned about, isn't it? Let it go! That's one of the former things, isn't it? Let it go.
As we do keep moving consistently from level to level, and we don't keep dodging into the encampment, we may develop a certain technique, I suppose you could call it, for passing through these periods of blankness. They're not unexpected, they're not rebelled against, because you know very well that unless you pass through you're not coming to the next level; so you take it as it comes and there's no particular problem about it. The thing begins to fade into the background. It's not such an important matter, and we don't use it as a trouble to bring to the Lord. There's only one person who can let go of your trouble and that is you. There is this stubborn refusal to let go of the former things—nobody can move until they do it.
Far from being a matter—when we do come away with the Lord—of relinquishing responsibility, we find that we come away by accepting responsibility. Then the former things can be relinquished and pass away and we move into a new level of consciousness and it's beautiful. It's beautiful, but we don't imagine that we're going to stay at that new level of consciousness forever. We're going to move on, rightly so. The increased experience of holiness comes down from God out of heaven into the earth because we relinquish the old state of unholiness and accept the new state of holiness.
“My yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” That's the truth of the matter, because a heavy burden relates to the former things. There is a constant invitation to come away from them, to let them go—not to try to drag them with you into the holy place, but to let them go. “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away,” come away from the former things, rejoicing in the fact that the Lord knows what's what, that we don't have to impose upon Him our self-centered attitudes as though they were His. What greater delight is there, really, than to have something brought out into the open so that we can look at it and let it go? When there is a longing to be holy, to be absolutely right, then there is a longing for this process to happen; and where there are needs, as there surely are present in everyone, for still-remaining former things to pass away, what a delight to become aware of it!
What freedom, what joy, in letting go of those former things, that the new state of consciousness may be experienced! It can't be experienced as long as the old state is there. That new state is coming with power and great glory. Nothing can stop it; it's coming! Why not let it come? Yes, it is a matter of accepting the new state of consciousness, but we don't know what that acceptance would be if we're holding on to the old. So out the old must go. And as we become aware of some of our attachments to it, how delightful to relinquish them. “Come out of her, my people.” “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.”
© Emissaries of Divine Light
Monday, November 02, 2015
God of My Body — God of My Circumstance
John Gray June 16, 1996 Glen Ivy
Last month Allen Dorfman, Jim Wellemeyer, Pamela and I had the pleasure of leading a Glen Ivy event called “The Triune Ray,” based on the booklet of that name written by the founder of the Emissary program, Uranda, sixty years ago. The timelessness of his words was just as evident to me re-reading them recently as when I first avidly read them twenty-eight years ago. In the chapter of the booklet entitled “God,” Uranda wrote:
“God is the Expression of the One Law. Creation is the Reaction of the One Law.”
There is a very great deal in a few words! God is the expression of the One Law and all of creation is the reaction to that expression. God, in the sense that Uranda used the term, is a verb, not a noun: God is expressing, God is acting. Creation is response to that action. A Taoist saying that I enjoy goes, “He who knows, cannot explain. He who explains, doesn't know.” I trust I am not trying to explain the unexplainable and thereby revealing what I do not know! But God is a verb: the expression of the One Law.
In another portion of the Triune Ray, Uranda speaks of the law of eternal progress:
“Creation is eternal. It never ends. It never began. It is, and was, and will be, eternally. Thus is the law of eternal progress made possible. The eternal progress of the positive center, God, which includes the Divine Being within each individual, is not a progress of Inner Soul development, but ever a progress in further creative activity, i.e., continual creation.”
The law of being is eternal progress. I don't know about you, but for longer than I care to admit, I associated the word eternal with timelessness. When I looked it up I found it doesn't have much to do with time. The root of eternal means “vital force,” “long life.” Eternal means “living.” Progress is also an interesting word. Its root means “to walk” and “to go,” with meanings such as “to go through,” “to lead forth,” “to go forth,” “to venture,” also suggested. So eternal progress carries meaning like: “life going through,” “life leading,” “life risking,” “life venturing.” The law of being is eternal progress. Uranda also wrote:
“Another law is: The Creator is responsible for His creation as long as the creation exists.”
Many people acknowledge in theory, in principal, or at least find the idea palatably acceptable, that there is something divine about human beings, that there is an innate divine presence called by various names. The fulfillment of a human being is in knowing—experiencing conscious oneness with—the divine presence. Knowing divine presence is one's divine identity. We might accept that idea as being valid, but honesty compels asking ourselves further questions, such as “but what is my actual experience of divine identity?” “God is the Expression of the One Law. Creation is the Reaction of the One Law.” In divine identity I can make the statement and it is true: “I am the God of this body.”
“I am the God of my body.” Say that to your body, quietly, now. “I am the God of this body.” Put your hands on it. Put your hands on your body where you want it to get that message. Where do you want your body to get that message most? Where does your body most need the reassurance that you, the God of your body, are present?
How does the God of one's body act? Caring? Loving? Probably many descriptives would apply. All of them are active. They have givingness about them, for God is the expression of the One Law—the giving, the radiation, of divine presence. As the God of your own body you are fully responsible for your body for as long as your body exists. In ordinary human identity we may often take our bodies for granted, paying attention only when they ail or hurt. The God of this body appreciates what this body is and does and permits to be. It is precious beyond measure because it allows me, the God of my body, to be present here and now.
Can we get out a little way beyond our body? Can I be the God of this setting? I am the God of this setting—not only the Tree of Life I AM in the midst of my personal garden setting, but the I am the God of the garden itself, the setting that I am in. I am the God of this setting. The setting may be physical, it may be a set of circumstances—things going on in your life with friends and family and work and home, whatever. These circumstances need your touch, need the hand of God of them on them to reassure, to bless, to let them know that the Lord is present.
“Lord” is a wonderful word. Its Old English root has to do with “loaf of bread” and the one who keeps and gives it. Bread is the bread of life, and the Lord is the “loaf giver,” the provider, the giver of life. I am the Lord of my body. I am the life giver. I am the Lord of my circumstance.
That isn't the usual identity people bring into their day-to-day lives. Coming from a more commonly experienced sense of self, people say, “I am the victim of this circumstance” or “I am threatened by it”—a potential victim. “I want to do the right thing” exposes a subtler form of feeling threatened. All these are reactive positionings. “I am ready to respond in the best way I know how to the conditions and circumstances that I face.” That is coping, often seen as the best a human being can do. But walking through the days of our lives in the identity of the God of my body, the God of my circumstance, our expression precedes us, filling the situation, and we don't position ourselves in a reactive place. I am not the creation. I am the loaf giver. I am the giver of life. This isn't a naive formula for more successful interactions with circumstances in the world. It is the best way I am able to put into words at the moment my experience of being the God of my body and the God of my circumstances.
There is a Zen notion about self that I find to be increasingly accurate as my experience of it grows: Self is a shifting reference position for consciousness, not a thing. Self as a thing is separate, because if there is the I or me there is also what is not me. This duality is a paradox because while there is me and not me there is also total connectedness between me and not me as well; the universe is whole. Dualities like that can scramble your brain! But from the point of view of the God of your circumstance, being the God of this situation, the sense of self is a shifting reference position of consciousness, and not a thing. The human ego is a thing, and things have magnitude. A point has position but no magnitude. Self is a shifting reference point for consciousness.
Lao Tzu is said to have said, “Through selfless action, fulfillment is attained.” I hold this to be true; it describes the spirit of service. “Through selfless action, fulfillment is attained.” What is selfless, as the word is used here? If the self of usual human experience is a thing, an ego, then selfless is obviously not that self. Here is an excerpt from Ray Grigg's book, The Tao of Zen, which expands Lao Tzu's statement:
“As the selflessness of this new consciousness replaces the willfulness of the old one, a formless identity grows and enters the larger design of things. Flowers and frogs and fishes and stones are honored as equals. This is not imposed by any moral, ethical or religious system. It happens spontaneously as self effortlessly dissolves into selflessness and an inevitable humility allows compassion. An empathetic awareness becomes deeper and wider as the narrow perspective of self falls away. In the words of Morinago Soko Roshi:
“‘Unless we... wean ourselves from this stubborn attachment to I, our inherent wisdom is clouded and our inherent compassion is blocked. As this weaning of I takes place, the full range of awareness is dramatically restructured toward a softer, more inclusive way of perceiving. It is the essence of a process that initiates all mystical experience. This new consciousness creates a profound sense of insight and clarity, of peace and perspective. The world is experienced more directly and immediately as selfless insights see things the way they are rather than the way the self wants them to be.’”
“As this weaning of I takes place, the full range of awareness is dramatically restructured toward a softer, more inclusive way of perceiving.” The self-as-a-thing, the ego, has hard edges and boundaries, is centered in itself, isolated. It doesn't softly permeate the circumstance I am in; it doesn't even fill this body. It is retracted, pulled back fearfully into itself, concerned about its future, missing the present. The “weaning of I” allows our true presence to permeate body and circumstances—even very large ones—and really, fully be here.
Oak tree branches arch over the path above the garden here at Glen Ivy. I can look down the path for perhaps a hundred yards at one point, sunlight filtering through the leaves, as if looking through a living tunnel, well-lighted all along. When I look far ahead, focusing attention at a distance, that is where the point of my consciousness is expressed to. The objects in the foreground don't go away, but the focus of my attention is not on them. We're all familiar with a telephoto camera lens, perhaps through watching television or films. When the focal point is extended more distantly, the elements in the foreground blur and disappear from view, as if they were not even there. While you can't see what you're not looking at, what you're not seeing is still there; just shift the focus of attention, and there it is!
This ability to focus consciousness in radiant vision is one way we create in this world: we express our creative energy softly out, evoking response, creating. We're versatile, too; we can move this focus in and out, near and far, all the while present. I am the God of this body—I am the God of this circumstance. As I walk down the path, whether it is the path above the garden or the path of life, I can focus my vision far ahead or close at hand. In this focus of awareness is where the self abides. Be the God of your circumstance, shifting position. Move out, move in, be fluid, be flexible, be present.
I mentioned those dualities of self and not self, me and not me and the paradox that while there is me and not me, there is also wholeness, oneness. When our selflessness is big enough to include the self-that-thinks-it-is-a-thing, then this duality ceases to seem a paradox. It is just a fact. This is the key. I am the God of my circumstances. I can extend my focus of vision in any direction, to any extent. I am present. I am the loaf giver. I give the bread of life and I am responsible for the creation I am walking through for as long as it exists.
Some things don't exist very long—a passing scene, quickly gone. Other things, even memories, may exist for a long, long time, but as the God of this circumstance I am responsible for them as long as they exist. When I extend my awareness to somewhere else I may not be immediately aware of this close-in circumstance, but I am still responsible for it. In the Biblical Book of Revelation an image of divine presence is described as being full of eyes, within and without, in all directions. That may sound a little bestial, but it is a metaphor for how to be a human being. We can see in all directions: past and present, cardinal directions, up and down, in and out. The duality of past and present evaporates into now. The duality of me and not me merges into wholeness when I stop being centered in the self that is a thing. We must be willing to venture, to risk, to do that. What Uranda called the law of eternal progress includes risk. The vital force, life itself, ventures; it risks, it constantly expresses anew, and reaction, creation, result.
I am not a thing. You are not a thing. God is a verb. So are we. Knowing divine identity is not like being connected by a cosmic umbilical cord or a celestial phone line to a Great Something-Or-Other, elsewhere. That idea maintains the illusory duality of me and not me. In that case there is me, and the not me is God. If the not me is God then God is not me. That is not divine identity! The way we look at the world really reveals where our identities are. Where we look from determines how things look to us.
The word “King” is a great description of the focus of divine identity. The word may be somewhat disdained in some circles because “king” seems sexist, implying masculine only. It comes from a root meaning “to give birth,” however—an action generally not considered a male function! To give birth: the king is the expression of the One Law: birth, bringing forth. In its background roots, “king" also contains meanings which suggest “origin,” “the origin of family, of kind or kindred,” also, “beginning.” I am the King of my body. I am the King of my circumstances, I give birth to it. I am the origin of it. I am its beginning, I am the Lord of it. I give it the bread of life. I animate it. I am the God of it. I am the presence that sustains it. If I see all circumstances, regardless of size, in the same way that I experience being the God of my body, the way I relate to the world changes utterly.
Some wise recommendations that have come down to us suddenly become possible to fulfill, whereas once they may have seemed impossible to even comprehend, let alone do. For example, Jesus instructed us to love our enemies. You have to have enemies to think you can or cannot love them, and how you look at the world (which depends on who's looking) determines whether you see a person or a circumstance as an enemy or not. The God of this circumstance has no enemies.
Perhaps the idea of divine identity has seemed a distant goal, something to work toward someday. That places divine identity once again as if it were a thing, something somewhere else that I can somehow reach. Be a verb—express. Express divine character and you know divine character. To know God we must act as God acts. Be a verb. Don't be a thing. If you are a thing eventually you will be no thing. If you are a verb you are eternal, a vital force. Your identity is life itself.
I am compelled to live this vision in every circumstance—home and work and family, everywhere. And if I am the God of this circumstance and other people are in it, does that mean no one else is the God of this circumstance? Of course not. We all are Gods, and how God shows up where you are takes everybody. The Great Creation is collective, response to the radiant presence of everyone. If that radiant presence isn't available, if it is withheld, then to that extent God is not showing up in the world. That deficiency is evident!
I am the God of this body. I fill it with my love and the moment I actually accept that fact, I am never again isolated, I never feel apart or separate but at one with a much larger presence. There is a God, a bigger God, there is Lord, the Lord of more, there is the King in a greater Kingdom. The individual experience of divine identity is inexorably linked with the larger context in which we live and move and have our being. No one can know divine identity and say there is no King for this world. No one can know divine identity and say there is no Lord, there is no God.
“The Father and I are one,” Jesus said. Here is a statement made in divine identity. I am the father of this circumstance. I am the father of this body. I am the mother too. I am the author, the origin, the one that makes it so. I have the power to bless, to heal, to smile, and we all do. Let's use it. Let's be it. Be a verb, not a thing. Take a walk along the garden path, and look down that living tunnel. There is not only light at the end of it, but light all over.
© Emissaries of Divine Light
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