IV. The Only Answer, P 12
12 God does not teach. To teach is to imply a lack, which God knows is not there. God is not conflicted. Teaching aims at change, but God created only the changeless. The separation was not a loss of perfection, but a failure in communication. A harsh and strident form of communication arose as the ego’s voice. It could not shatter the peace of God, but it could shatter yours. God did not blot it out, because to eradicate it would be to attack it. Being questioned, He did not question. He merely gave the Answer. His Answer is your Teacher.
I love this God that Jesus describes. He is immovable, unchangeable and nonthreatening. I thought of times when I was most like this as a parent. When I was the best parent I could be, I exhibited these ideals. When my child wanted to do things I could not agree with he might argue with me. I didn’t argue back. He was upset and angry not to get his way which seemed terribly important to him, but I was calm and unaffected by his anger because I was certain that I had his best interests at heart and I knew I was right. I didn’t try to destroy his point of view. I let him have it and express it. He questioned my judgment, and I let him. Then I gave him my answer, which never changed. I loved him and stayed true to that love even if he thought he hated me for it.
When I was at my best, I was a rock. He might want to find a way around me, but he could not move me. I was firm and steady, not moving, not changing, but never attacking either. My child could argue and yell and express his frustration in many ways, but my love for him was not altered by his behavior. When he was in his frustration, his attempt to communicate was strident, but I did not join him there. I spoke firmly, gently and lovingly. When he was acting from his frustration, I never became confused about who he was. I knew this would pass and I knew that he was my precious son. His behavior did not change my mind about him. At my best, I was utterly dependable and always there. I was love. I was not always at my best, but when I was I more closely resembled our Father.
God is always at His best. He is never confused about who He is. He never gets frustrated with me. He is never affected by my behavior. He never believes the strange stories I make up about myself even though I do such a superb job of making them realistic and believable. I went through a period of time when I confused my religion with my God and when I felt betrayed by my religion, I took it out on God. I was like my disappointed child. I stamped my feet, banged my head against the floor. I yelled at Him and pretended I didn’t love Him anymore. I threatened to kill this body I thought He created. But God was a rock; He was more than a rock, He was a mountain. He didn’t believe in the person I was showing Him. He just knew who I was and no matter what I did or thought or said. He was Love.
I made up a me that is not particularly loveable. This me is a frightful mess and even I can’t depend on her. She changes at the drop of a hat and there is nothing constant about her. The instability she feels and exhibits is very frightening to her and so she lives with this low level of anxiety that never really abates. Guilt is the sticky mess that holds her world together and it is a painful and frightful world that she made for herself. This made up self seems so real that I argue for her existence even though I suffer through it. But God, my rock, my mountain, doesn’t argue against her or attack her or condemn her. He simply knows she doesn’t exist. He knows who I am, and that is all He knows about me. I am looking past the imagined self and trying to find the One God Knows. I am learning to follow God’s lead and look past the behavior and the confusion with an expectation of finding the Truth of my Being.