Today, I wish to show that, contrary to the words of our favorite Christmas carol, Christ the Savior was never born in a manger, indeed, was never born at all (“before Abraham was, I am”—John 8:58).
Early this morning I awakened suddenly from a very vivid dream that I immediately knew was of spiritual significance.
I was with my husband in a house busy doing something unimportant (I don’t remember what) when all at once I remembered that we had a baby that we hadn’t seen or heard for a very long time.
I was afraid to go look in the crib because I knew I was going to find our dead baby. Of course I had to do it; but when we looked, there was no baby there. Now I knew I had to report it to the police, who would ask all sorts of questions. How could I tell them that I had just forgotten the baby?
In John 9 is the record of the healing of the man born blind, one of the many healings brought into manifestation by Jesus on the Sabbath. I say “brought into manifestation” rather than “performed by” since Jesus didn’t actually “heal” the man’s eyes. Jesus’ consciousness of the man’s true spiritual identity that cannot experience blindness and the man being “touched” by that consciousness is what caused the man to see.
The Jews had a very strong attachment to this material, flesh and blood realm. They believed that life was in the blood (Leviticus 17:11) and also that their sins could not be forgiven without the shedding of blood (Hebrews 9:22). They believed that God “visited the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation” (Numbers 14:18)(see What’s in Your DNA?).
Jesus had been with His disciples for three years. In His last talk with them before His arrest and crucifixion, He was telling them that He was about to leave them and return to His Father from whence He came:
There are countless (and I do mean “countless”) books, pamphlets, papers, sermons and lectures available on the subject of “end times.” They are all about chronological countdowns, tribulations, resurrections and judgments. Some make a distinction between the “rapture” and the “second coming”; some do not. Many congregations and denominations have been formed, fractured or destroyed because of disagreements concerning these matters. Anyone wanting to make an exhaustive study of this subject will quickly find himself agreeing with Solomon:
This weekend we visited some dear Christian friends and attended church with them. Of course we had many discussions about spiritual matters since our spiritual journeys are what is most important to all of us. The subject of prayer kept recurring, both in our private discussions and during the church service when prayer requests were taken and prayed for. The implication of most of the statements made were that the more often we pray, the more people who are praying and the more serious we are about praying (e. g. fasting and intensity) is what determines whether or not our prayers are answered.
I think very few people really have an accurate understanding of the conscience. We have been taught in orthodox Christianity that it is the Holy Spirit convicting us of sin—telling us what we ought or ought not to be doing. It is that which tells us what we are doing wrong and causes us to feel condemned. It never tells us that we are doing something right; it just makes us feel guilty for the wrong that we do. Yet we have been taught to look upon the conscience as a good thing and to be careful not to “sear” it by violating it.
For some time now, since it was revealed to me that I was being motivated by my ego (see “Understanding”), I have been meditating on who I would be without my ego. There is a scene in a movie, “Peaceful Warrior,” where the main character is on the top of a tower contemplating suicide, and his ego asks him that question, “Who would you be without me?”
As I was reading the book of Joshua, I ran across the account of Joshua defeating the five kings of the Amorites because “the Lord fought for Israel” (10:14). Then Joshua did something very interesting. He had his military leaders put their feet upon the necks of those kings as a symbol of their victory over the enemy (v 24).