. . . the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night (1 Thessalonians 5:2)
. . . ye know not what hour your Lord doth come (Matthew 24:42)
Let us first rephrase the latter passage: Let us call our “Lord” the “Truth in which Love is no longer denied” and let us say that this Truth does not “come” but rather that we regain – or recall – our awareness of it. For what we say is God is not absent from us, and what we are – right now, right here – is capable of knowing this non-absence (this here-and-nowness) as the singular fact of existence. Nothing is that isn’t God. That is the Truth!
There is no separation: there is only a belief in separation. And when we look gently and closely at this belief – which is simply to raise it to the light of understanding – then it will naturally dissolve, like a handful of salt thrown in the sea.
We need do nothing but give attention. A Course in Miracles teaches us that “Truth comes of its own will unto its own” (T-13.XI.6:5). Who looks will see, and who sees perceives correctly, and who perceives correctly knows at last “what is capable of being wholly shared” (T-13.XI.4:2). We do not need to know what that is right now; indeed, we only need to know that we don’t know. That is honesty and honesty calls forth Truth. We are not bereft. Salvation is sure.
The coming and going of specific forms are akin to faint ripples on the lake’s surface at dawn: they are not separate from the lake, and the lake’s wholeness is neither impaired nor improved by their brief and shifting presence.
We did not invent love: we did not make peace. The words, yes. The images and ideals, yes. But the essence of love and peace? The truth of love and peace? Those transcend the limitations of our apparently separated selves: and yet are also available right now within us, because separation is an illusion. Go beyond the image you make and go beyond the words you use: what do you find? What do you experience? Because Truth is there: it can be encountered outside the limits of time and space.
When you have learned that you belong to truth, it will flow lightly over you without a difference of any kind . . . Have faith in only this one thing, and it will be sufficient; God wills you be in Heaven, and nothing can keep you from it, nor it from you (T-13.IX.6:6, 7:1).
When we make attention our gift to the world – which is to say that when we offer it without condition or exclusion of any kind – then it is given us to become aware of that which was always was: Love, peace, the stillness of Heaven. Call it what you will because the words are not what matters: the same force that brings the bluets each Spring bears you along as well. The coming and going of specific forms are akin to faint ripples on the lake’s surface at dawn: they are not separate from the lake, and the lake’s wholeness is neither impaired nor improved by their brief and shifting presence.
We are not what passes: not the forms that come and go, not the landscape forms traverse, and not the wordy ideas they use to fuel their passage. We dwell in an invariable peace beyond (but not opposed to) the reach of change. Merely question your belief that truth – and you – are other than this wholeness, other than this deep and abiding peace.
You do not have to know that Heaven is yours to make it so. It is so (T-13.XI.10:5-6).
The hour is now: the doors are open. And we can look now at the first biblical passage of this post: Paul’s admonition that the day of the Lord is like a thief in the night. But it is given us to see that the thief is neither a stranger nor a criminal but a brother and a savior: and he comes not to steal but to offer a gift: remembrance, through Truth, of the peace and love forever composing us.
For how can you remember what was never true, or not remember what has always been? It is this reconciliation with truth, and only truth, in which the peace of Heaven lies (T-13.XI.11:7-8).
In the end it is simple, so simple we are apt to miss it: we don’t have to say yes and we don’t have to beg. We only have to see what is now.