ACIM Chapter 13. III. The Fear of Redemption, P 1, 2 

ACIM Chapter 13. III. The Fear of Redemption, P 1, 2 

III. The Fear of Redemption, P 1

1 You may wonder why it is so crucial that you look upon your hatred and realize its full extent. You may also think that it would be easy enough for the Holy Spirit to show it to you, and to dispel it without the need for you to raise it to awareness yourself. Yet there is one more obstacle you have interposed between yourself and the Atonement. We have said that no one will countenance fear if he recognizes it. Yet in your disordered state of mind you are not afraid of fear. You do not like it, but it is not your desire to attack that really frightens you. You are not seriously disturbed by your hostility. You keep it hidden because you are more afraid of what it covers. You could look even upon the ego’s darkest cornerstone without fear if you did not believe that, without the ego, you would find within yourself something you fear even more. You are not really afraid of crucifixion. Your real terror is of redemption.

I really hate it when Jesus talks about this.

I accept that he must be right, but I don’t feel like I am afraid of redemption, and I don’t want to think that I am. So, I think about it anyway. What am I afraid that redemption would take from me? Well, I wouldn’t have anyone to blame when I felt guilty. Of course, when redemption is complete, I won’t feel guilty, but what about on the way to redemption?

I say I want to give up guilt forever, even the belief it could exist. But I notice that in the midst of an ego storm, I still run for cover under the leaky roof of guilt. I have been talking about a time when I was working, and things began to change. This upset me, and I kept telling stories about the guilty ones who were causing the changes. However, I accepted that this was happening and used the opportunity to forgive. I used the Rules for Decision to undo the mess I made of it.

Defense and attack continued to find a place in my mind and still do at times. I defend my image of Myron. I defend myself against love and union. It surprises me to discover that I still defend myself against lack and loss. I attack anyone or anything that seems to invade these areas of my life. So, I must treasure defense and attack more than I treasure redemption. Here is what I am coming to understand now. None of this makes me guilty. They are just beliefs, and as I become convinced that they are not needed or wanted, they fall away. Maybe not all at once, but little by little, they are falling away.

Of course, I would have to give up my sense of an individual self.

I would have to let Myron go, the things about her that make her unique, and with her, all the interesting stories of Myron. Would that be so bad? I talk to people like Cate Grieves who have done this, and they seem very happy without their old selves to hang onto. But I seem strangely attached to Myron in spite of her problems and her suffering. Weird.

Actually, now that I think about it, there are many things that I used to think I couldn’t live without, only to discover that I don’t miss them now that I have let them go. I used to think I needed to be sick a lot. I used to think there was some value in anger and fear, and I held tight to them … until I didn’t. Now, I vaguely remember when hatred seemed important to me. Some of all this comes back into my mind, and sometimes I respond to it. But I no longer believe that I want to keep any of this. So maybe that means I am not as afraid of redemption as I used to be.

III. The Fear of Redemption, P 2

2 Under the ego’s dark foundation is the memory of God, and it is of this that you are really afraid. For this memory would instantly restore you to your proper place, and it is this place that you have sought to leave. Your fear of attack is nothing compared to your fear of love. You would be willing to look even upon your savage wish to kill God’s Son, if you did not believe that it saves you from love. For this wish caused the separation, and you have protected it because you do not want the separation healed. You realize that, by removing the dark cloud that obscures it, your love for your Father would impel you to answer His call and leap into Heaven. You believe that attack is salvation because it would prevent you from this. For still deeper than the ego’s foundation, and much stronger than it will ever be, is your intense and burning love of God, and His for you. This is what you really want to hide.

Under the ego’s dark foundation is the memory of God…

Jesus says that we would kill God’s Son because we believe it would keep us from remembering our intense and burning love of God and His for us. We hide from love and defend against God. It is all so that we can keep dreaming these stories of independence and separation. There seems to be no limit to the suffering we are willing to endure in order to keep our separate identities. Jesus says I do not want the separation healed, and I would argue with that if I could. But really, how can I?

Here I am, in the middle of it, resisting love, resisting happiness. And I do this for the shallowest of reasons: I want to be right; I want to be me. It is as if I am a child playing at being the princess, stomping my feet, and running away when my parents call me home. Even if the dragon is so near, I feel its scorching breath on my neck, even if the prince never comes to rescue me, even if it turns out that being a princess is not so much fun – even still, I want to be right. So, I stubbornly cling to my story and resist the love and comfort of home.

I deny my right to happiness and peace and the love of God every time I judge. And every time, I blame and am angry, resentful, or jealous. I deny God’s love every time I am afraid or guilty. And every time I claim to be a victim and unfairly treated. These are the treasures of my pitiful little kingdom. I hide behind them, not so that God cannot find me, but so that I don’t remember His Love. Because if I remember God I know in my heart that I would run to Him, leaving it all behind.

But slowly, ever so slowly, I am turning toward the light.

Each time that I allow a bit of love in, I want more, and the stories of separation lose some of their appeal. I remember when there was nothing I liked better than a good cry. I would seek out sad stories and revel in the emotional response I felt. And I loved to play with fear, watch horror movies, and read scary books. I would hide under my covers and shiver in fear as if this was the most delicious feeling in the world. And, oh, how I loved my righteous indignation when I had been wronged!

Well, I have since discovered peace and joy, and I am drawn to that instead. The happiness I experience now is just a small taste, a shadow of the real thing. But it has drawn me in, and I am losing interest in the ego roller coaster of emotion. “Oh my God, I think of what it must be like to experience Your Love more directly, and imagination fails me. And maybe it scares me a little.”

For a very long time, I have had a battle raging in my mind. I desperately wanted to return to peace, but the ego mind just as desperately wanted to be right. It was frustrating and upsetting. It felt like I was being compelled against my will, but of course, that cannot happen. The battle was between my desire for a personal self and my desire to remember my Self, and the conflict was intense. It is not so intense now and not as upsetting because I know that truth will win.

 My Self will prevail, of course, but it is tiring as the conflict continues.

Here is what happens. I feel so distraught, and my ego says it is because of what others are saying and doing. When I have a moment of sanity, I ask the Holy Spirit what it means. He says it is because I am defended against love.

I can hardly believe I used to live like this all the time. I guess it seemed normal because I didn’t know anything else. Now that I have tasted of the peace of God it is painful to be without it. I remind myself that the peace of God is everything I want. I remind myself of why I am conflicted. It is only because I asked the ego what something meant and then believed what it told me. And I can undo that decision.

I am reminded of Lesson 155. The reason I step back and let Him guide me is that “I do not know what anything, including this, means. And so I do not know how to respond to it. And I will not use my own past learning as the light to guide me.” My desire to be at peace compels me to release all grievances. I would look at my brothers as the holy Children of God that they are. “Father, walk with me today, hold my hand, keep me on the path of peace. This is my true will and my heart’s desire.”

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