Wednesday, 22 July 2015

A CIRCLE OF SWIFT SONGS... and the Melody of Degrees...



 
   In writing THE BUTTERFLY STORY I had glimpsed that one way to enter Life was by a sort of ‘not-doing:’ in simple surrender and rest; but that there could be another way, which was by virtually doing the opposite, and that it could be good, too, I had not been able to bear; for I had crossed over so completely and any method of acquiring wisdom and knowledge which was by human effort I had long ago learned to abandon within me. But, after a long while of inner dying to myself and waiting I was given in a waking dream the hint of a greater truth which I had not previously glimpsed. I was about to discover a deeper level to seeing and perceiving truth; and a greater, or more true dimension of love and peace in which all the sensibilities and giftings of others were fully provided for and there could be no cause for offence.
                                                                            
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   TEARS HAD FORMED A POOL. And through them it was as though I was looking from above and seeing down through the clouds. Mountains and beautiful valleys with cascading rivers and areas of dense forest were below. Then appearing in the far distance, amidst a great wooded wilderness, I saw a most beautiful lake! And around its edge, were natural grassy places; flower-filled meadows, the haunt of fallow deer and forest creatures which came there to drink. But in one place the lake was bordered by the sheer rock wall of a great high cliff.
   It was very still. Not a breath of wind. The surface of the lake was smooth and clear and shining as glass. It was all was so quiet there breathed a sense of Eternity.  Or as if Time itself stood still, while angels watched.
   Suddenly, a Stone is dropped, and from a great height. It plunges into the still water; from its fall, a vortex is caused in the centre of the lake, a hole greater than the size of the Stone and a huge fountain of water shoots up in the upheaval. The waves caused around it swell huge, at first, then grow successively smaller and smaller as the ripples extend on and on; until, imperceptibly, they reach the very shores of the lake.
   So clearly did I see this all happening that it seemed to take a very long time to happen? I don’t know; it is hard to explain in words. But it seemed as though I was seeing everything in slow motion, for every detail is precise in my memory.
   It was only a dream. A fleeting waking vision. But when I awoke I remembered it vividly. I wondered what it meant. As I pondered, I saw again the fall of the Stone. It was the Central Thing: the Stone of Stumbling and the Rock of Offence. Then I recalled the circles of the waves, slowly decreasing to become ripples, until they were so small I could hardly notice them. As I weighed these things in my heart, I drew closer, and after a moment I heard the following words rise from within me. They were not audible words; just a silent knowing of something I did not know.

A circle of swift songs:
The melody of degrees;
Fairly apportioned the glory
Of the kingdom of heaven

   Then, as I listened, there was an opening in a once shut place, and I could see something of the meaning of the dream. I suddenly realized it spoke as an answering picture-story to the pain I was dealing with in my innermost being: the pain of being rejected for speaking the truth that no one wanted to hear. Then the picture unravelled . . .
   The ripples, they had had no meeting place! In that pattern of concentric circles, not one touched; not one wave or ripple, met!  There was no link between them. No bridge. Though they followed one after the other in perfect pattern, they never touched. They had no direct interaction with one another though they came from the same source and the same power moved them. ...For a moment I was devastated. All my longings dashed to pieces! No one would hear me who wasn’t in the same ripple as me! I was separated from others! Alone! I really was…all alone! A sense of grief manifested in the centre of my being, and a sob rose up and came out of me; and for a moment I cried.
   And then Love stooped, and spoke. Love bent down, and looked upon me; and said, ‘I have made it so.’ My response a baby’s tears; and I just cried some more. But then the glint of a dawning:  ‘It was meant to be that way...?’ and I marvelled. As usual my natural, first-sight arose next, to steal away my dawn, and cloud my insight over, as my own thinking always does. ‘Oh, but why did you make it so? Surely, that can’t be! It is, too, cruel!’
   Clasped of such earthly thoughts the pain increased, and to breaking point. Yet, Love’s grip was stronger. I yielded. Trusting completely to Love’s own goodness I looked upon this given ‘picture-story,’ the second time; and wondered at the incomprehensible wisdom so black and dark as night to me. Immediately there came a greater dawning: ‘And it was made, for the extension of the glory of the kingdom of heaven; to which is no end, either way.’ Then I saw it all clear and bright as day.
   Every ripple received what he gave it. And all that he gave it was what it had. The power in the falling Stone was in each circling ripple the exact amount of power that he intended it to have. There everyone in that particular ‘ripple’ had all things in common! They had a kind of kindred fellowship one with another: ‘they talked the same language!’ Rarely did they grossly irritate or offend one another. They couldn’t. Their light, their knowledge, was equal.  So there were no micro-explosions of revelatory light by paradox by the interaction of opposites, to rattle them and embarrass them, and unnerve them, with too much light . . . too much glory, which was beyond them, and which could only make them burst, and spoil, and make them blind! ...New wine in old wine bottles; it doesn’t work! It harms.
   It seemed this design of un-linked concentric ripples was a picture of how God chose to distribute his glory once it had entered the world; that it might be seen, and examined, and delighted in – in each degree that he gave it. I saw that in each was a potential for fullness, for all kinds of personal discovery, and peace: each having its own swift song: its own allotted glory to delight in, which could abundantly satisfy.

    ‘And who are you to say which ripple is best?’

   My own heart smote me! To think that I had thought that I should be able to reach across the ripples, to swamp others with what I had, and put upon them my passionate desire that they should have what I had, regardless! Oh, I ran to Love’s ever present arms. There came my blessing: the loving rebuke and chastening which I ever embraced, and cherished;  for without it I could only be left behind; blind, clouded, lost in a wilderness of my own imperfect judgment, and my own stubbornly held onto opinions! Opened to the core, and out from the depths of me, my broken heart spoke and in Love’s own voice...

   ‘How do you know which ripple is best for each person? Do you know my thoughts, or my purpose in each ripple? Who are you? Don’t you know that I can give my glory, which I wish for all my children to delight in, within the faintest ripple as much as in the greatest wave of the upheaval? If I will that those who delight in the merest hint of my glory are to do so because it pleases me, does it not please you? Who are you? My glory is so great that the least touch of it upon man’s spirit is without end. And unto the smallest degree of it shall I cause it to fulfill their joy and my purpose within them unto whom I give it. If I wish to give to the least as much as I give unto the greatest, what is that to you? Follow me.'

   The first ripple reached the shore first; but though this first swift circle of a falling Stone is the most tumultuous and suffers the most upheaval, he gives as much to this least as to the greatest for it becomes the least, first; and so on. It was a profound paradox! And I did not think that I understood it. Then to my mind there came this: ‘There was the one which was the beloved; there was the three; there was the twelve; there was the seventy; and there was the five hundred; and there was the multitude; and the whole world.’ But I saw that all were beloved, whatever I thought; for all were given all they could hold; and all they could hold was all they desired. Enter peace; and love. And smitten, knowing I knew nothing, I fell softly. And, mercy, kissed with truth, I landed in Love’s own embrace.

   A circle of swift songs: the melody of degrees; fairly apportioned the glory of the kingdom of heaven.
                                                     


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