Yes, it's true,
The one writing this, almost dares not look up, but he was like those that plucked His beard. I thought my theology was "right", I dared God to punish Him. There was no sense in what I did, every one was suspect to me; I talked to my fellow mockers in jest that any one should claim as He did. I was in Hell.
For so long now, I have thought "His message! His message! What is it about His message, the righteous suppose to be able to talk about? I didn't not occur to me, that He wanted to favour whom He will: that His reward was in doing what I was doing, the right "way". He wanted me to come to Him, but all I came to Him with was spite. Spite that tradition cloaked, like death - that none of our faith come to, but to die alone with.
It is a lesser place I should take now. It's not right that someone so ready with spite and malice should be given place over and above others and their message. I can't approach that face, the face whose beard I plucked like it was a game. I don't deserve the attention of those eyes. Jesus said "let those who desire to be great, be those who serve" well, let me serve by withdrawing, at least a little. I want to be close to God, at the same time what I have done sickens me.
I'm like a meek lamb, that has been tailed. I have plucked out my own tail! I can't go back now and not remember who I was, what I did. The Lord may look on me with pleasure, but His beard has not come back, the body He was to receive is still waiting for the time - and I am a prisoner of that time (I wait earnestly, that my actions be forgotten), and that is the curse! But it is a curse that He broke and breaks and will break again. Until I am an upstanding member of the Flock. This is the work of the Shepherd, the Man of the Field that can answer the Pharisee from His experience. That's who we fear: the religious elite, who have more power than us.
We need to wake up to this - pray that you not enter into temptation.
The one writing this, almost dares not look up, but he was like those that plucked His beard. I thought my theology was "right", I dared God to punish Him. There was no sense in what I did, every one was suspect to me; I talked to my fellow mockers in jest that any one should claim as He did. I was in Hell.
For so long now, I have thought "His message! His message! What is it about His message, the righteous suppose to be able to talk about? I didn't not occur to me, that He wanted to favour whom He will: that His reward was in doing what I was doing, the right "way". He wanted me to come to Him, but all I came to Him with was spite. Spite that tradition cloaked, like death - that none of our faith come to, but to die alone with.
It is a lesser place I should take now. It's not right that someone so ready with spite and malice should be given place over and above others and their message. I can't approach that face, the face whose beard I plucked like it was a game. I don't deserve the attention of those eyes. Jesus said "let those who desire to be great, be those who serve" well, let me serve by withdrawing, at least a little. I want to be close to God, at the same time what I have done sickens me.
I'm like a meek lamb, that has been tailed. I have plucked out my own tail! I can't go back now and not remember who I was, what I did. The Lord may look on me with pleasure, but His beard has not come back, the body He was to receive is still waiting for the time - and I am a prisoner of that time (I wait earnestly, that my actions be forgotten), and that is the curse! But it is a curse that He broke and breaks and will break again. Until I am an upstanding member of the Flock. This is the work of the Shepherd, the Man of the Field that can answer the Pharisee from His experience. That's who we fear: the religious elite, who have more power than us.
We need to wake up to this - pray that you not enter into temptation.
