Half blind, near death, He dragged the wooden beam up the loathsome hill. Through blood-filled eyes He caught His first glimpse of Golgotha, and heard the sound of hammers laying finish to the instrument of execution.

They turned the Carpenter around so that He might see what it was that lay upon the ground before Him.

The cross!

He had not seen it since that day … the day before the birth of eternity.

He raised His bruised head and groped—with eyes nearly blind—to see if all else was in its place. Yes, there the nails, the mallet, the derisive sign, the gall. All were present, having been inseparably linked to Him for unnumbered ages.

Again He cast His eyes down at the cross lying before Him. None on earth nor in the skies could e’er have guessed that beam of wood constituted the single most destructive force in all universal creation. Powerful enough to destroy everything ever created.

But something was missing!

Slowly He looked about, surveying the whole macabre panorama. There it was! In the hands of a Roman soldier. The spear!

Something within Him, a sense of completion, filled His being. A soft smile struggled to the surface of His swollen face.

“On with it. Crucify Him!” someone in the crowd screamed.

“Oh, you have no idea what will be crucified this day,” He whispered. Then, turning His eyes heavenward, He whispered again, as if to universes unseen, “All things are ready.”

And with that simple word the whole habitation of heavenly places emptied, as the angelic host hurled itself into time, there to fill every roof, hill and mountain around about Jerusalem. Ten thousand times ten thousand swords were drawn by outraged and weeping angels. Every sinew in them strained, waiting for a command—any command—that wold allow them to unleash vengeance upon that hill.

Pitilessly the soldiers began to shove Him down upon the beam of wood, only to discover His utter willingness to lie down upon this cross and stretch out His hands and feet. Nor did it escape their eyes that their captive opened His palms to waiting nails.

One of the soldiers, hesitating for only a moment as he contemplated this strange Man before him, reached for one of the long, cold spikes, and the heavy iron mallet. He pressed the nail hard against the wrist and raised his hammer high into the air.

The Carpenter raised His other hand slightly, and time stood still!

Within the very core of the spirits of every angel, bursting like fire, came the unspoken, and quite unbelievable, command of their Lord. For a single instant they hesitated.

“Now!” commanded the Carpenter.

*  *  *  *  *

He had given them not only a command but an ability to do something which, until now, only He had ever done. To accomplish His will He had now allowed His messengers to become masters of time and space. They would know what only I AM had ever known before: for the next few moments they would be able to move to any point in time, space… or eternity. They could roam the corridors of time, breaking into any place in history at will. They would trace across all points of time—and to many places in eternity—moving, if necessary, in both directions of eternity, even to the age before the ages and, if need be, to the final end of all ages.

Hurtling faster than even they could conceive, each went to His appointed place, to perform His Master’s will.

*  *  *  *  *

It was the angel who bore the simple name Messenger who plunged backward through all time, then back through all eternity past—even to that age before all things, save God! Arriving there, he found a lamb—slain—upon a wooden cross. Lifting high this, until now, unknown trophy of endless love, he bore it forward through eternity into time, and finally to Golgotha, there to make that cross—and lamb—one with the cursed tree and the Carpenter who lay outstretched upon it.

Another angel went to that long forgotten place where Eve and Seth had once laid the body of ancient Adam. In the gifts and powers of the spirituals, the angel clutched into his arms the first-born of our race, and bore him forward through time, coming at last to Calvary. You see, within the very bosom of Adam lay all the descendants of the human race, for they were—after all—in Him. Further, in the bosom of that first man lay not only all the species of mankind but even the Adamic fall, the curse, and the self nature which had invaded, plundered and twisted man’s soul.

Adam, and all mankind in him, was carried in angelic hands to the place of the Carpenter’s execution.

One of the archangels rose from off earth’s plane, stood above this planet, and called to time past and time future, commanding all governments, rules, dominions, and principalities from all earth’s ages to come forth. Capturing them in his mighty arms, he swept back into time’s sphere and made flight towards Jerusalem. Standing before the cross, he waited.

But one of the angels did not stir from his place. Golgotha itself was his appointment. On one side of the cross stood a crowd of Hebrews. On the other side, a garrison of Gentile soldiers. Between them, seen only by eyes that belonged to the unseen, was a wall. An insurmountable wall! Wrestling the wall into his powerful arms, the angel lifted that barrier up, paused before the cross, and waited.

Waited for the tick of time to sound once more.

*  *  *  *  *

Arm and hammer began their furious journey downward toward the nail, but not before the returning angels plunged their booty into the bosom of the young Carpenter.

The hammer smashed against the nail, and there were crucified in that instant

The first man, Adam
…..Adam’s race
……….The fallen self
……………All governments
………………..principalities
…………………….powers
…………………………rule … and
……………………………..dominions

Yea! Crucified upon the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ.

*  *  *  *  *

Once more a nail was pressed deep into the other wrist. Once more the soldier drew his arm in a mighty upward swing, and once more the Lord froze time in its journey.

At that very instant one of the angels arrived at the base of Mt. Sinai and began to furiously hurl stones in all directions. He paused. There they lay, the smashed, long forgotten, tablets of the commandments and the law of Moses. Quickly the angel clutched them to his bosom, turned and darted again for Jerusalem’s holy temple.

Arriving at the temple courtyard, he went straight into the Holy of Holies. Terrified, yet obedient, he lifted the mercy seat, reached inside the box of hammered gold, and brought forth the sacred copy of the law. He then gathered from within the temple every rule, every regulation, every ordinance that ever had been penned, proclaimed, or dreamed of.

He was about to depart when he heard again the Lord’s voice within him. Turning, he called forth all ritual of worship. Once more he would have departed, but turned again at the prodding of his glowing spirit. He now called forth all observance of all holy days. Finally he called forth even the Sabbath.

At last he left the temple, only to be stopped again. He breathed hard, turned and called forth even the temple!

Now he rose high above the earth, and in a voice that reached all ends of all times, he commanded every rule, regulation, ritual, decree and ordinance that had ever been observed by any religion ever practiced upon the face of the earth … to come forth!

Once more the burdened angel plunged downward through the skies, into time. He arrived just in time to lay his profound burden into the bosom of his Lord. He stepped back.

The hammer smashed against the nail, and with it,

All law
…..all rules
……….all ordinances
……………all holy days
………………..and
…………………….all ritual

were crucified upon the cross of Jesus Christ our Lord!

*  *  *  *  *

The soldiers bound the Lord’s legs, pressed them hard against the wood, and nailed His feet to the cross. Ruthlessly they kicked the stake into a waiting hole. There was an awful thud and a pathetic groan.

Overhead the heavens were growing dark with some sick and mysterious cloud. Every moment the sky grew darker and more foreboding. Citizens of earth clutched their garments about them and shook inside at the sight of the foulness gathering in the sky above them.

What they saw were but small drops of vast, unholy things seeping through from unseen realms. For the angels were now on the darkest and most dreadful of their journeys. Across time and space they had flown, into every year, hour and minute of human history. Into every village, town and city. Across plain and desert, down even into the seas, they had plunged. Rising, they brought back their dreadful cargo to Jerusalem, careful to stay in the invisibles, that they not destroy the earth with the very stench of their black wares. Darker and thicker grew the massive thing, as numberless angels endured their burden until the appointed moment.

The Lord of earth grew faint upon His cross. His time was at an end.

With groans and wails and agonising cries, the angels lifted their foul booty and stepped into time, carrying with them every sin of every man and woman who had ever lived!

Bringing together into one place this vile, pulsating, living thing, they cast it all into the Lamb of God—who now became sin incarnate. All sin was now accumulated in one place—in Him. Divinity now experienced that one thing which it had never known. In the flood of that indescribably hideous invasion, the Lord of glory, forsaken by all Holiness, cried out in delirium,

My God, My God
Why hast Thou forsaken Me?

One of the archangels, blinded with rage and consumed with revenge, cried out savagely to his peers,

Now, Now
…..to the ends of eternity,
Vengeance, Vengeance!
Now, now!
…..to the ends of wrath,
Vengeance, vengeance!

Once more, to allow for the greatest of all retributions, time stood still.

*  *  *  *  *

Streaking across time, they flew forward, and having come to time’s end they pressed hard into eternity future. With swords raised and with eyes spewing fire, they broke into the last instant of the history of the kingdom of darkness, crying

Vengeance
…..Vengeance
You—unholy equals—
…..meet your appointed hour.

Without pity, without care, they whirled about the dark citizens of demondom, encircling them in fiery, blinding light… and drove them, screaming, back across eternity, back through the portal separating the invisible from the visibles, back into time—back toward Golgotha.

On they mercilessly drove their gnashing, screaming, unholy prey, back toward the cross.

Time moved, but only for a second, allowing two archangels—with flashing, swirling swords—to hurl these dark fiends into the bosom of the only begotten Son of God.

Now went up a defiant cry from the angelic host as has never before—nor ever since—been heard. The whole host of angels and archangels swarmed again, this time across eternity future, to finish a battle begun long ago in eternity past.

“This time, Victory!” they screamed, half mad with rage.

*  *  *  *  *

Inflamed with revenge, they flooded into the final moment of the last age of the ages. For one instant they paused, elect angels coming in the full brightness of their power and glory. “Now!” screamed Michael as the holy angels of God charged forth against the legions of the angels of damnation, driving them back toward the inevitable cross. And with them, in full retreat before two archangels gone quite mad, was the infernal leader—the angel of light—at last receiving his sure damnation.

Back through time they were hurled. In chaos and disarray they were driven up Calvary’s hill and, by some unutterable means, were drawn inexorably into the very bosom of their enemy.

And so was crucified

the prince of darkness
…..and the
kingdom of darkness
…..upon the cross
of Jesus Christ, your Lord!

*  *  *  *  *

While time continued its rest, yet other elements of creation gave way to the all-destructive cross. While angels watched in amazement, the entire world system began to pour into the bosom of the Crucified One. The whole earth, joined by the visible creation itself, began to melt away and vanish into the young man upon the the cross. Time, eternity and heavenly places soon joined them.

The eyes of of angels, viewing events from outside of time, watched as all things disappeared.

Before them now stood only a cross, hanging in a great void. Truly, He had kept His word. He had put away all enemies.

The cross of Christ had swallowed up and put to death… all things.

Hallelujah!

*  *  *  *  *

A cold chill swept over the angels. They had momentarily forgotten the one last and greatest enemy: That one with whom even they could do no battle.

Death now appeared before the cross and gurgled in an obscene roar.

We meet again,
And this
For the last time!

Death stretched out his cloak and began relentlessly moving toward this, his greatest and final victim. The young Carpenter raised His wounded head, smiled, and said,

Yes, Death
For the last time.

With that the young Carpenter moved once more His blood-soaked, iron-pierced hand. Time began again. Golgotha reappeared. Earthly things once more came into view. The Lord Jesus was now breathing His last breath. The Angel of Death moved inexorably on. He covered the young Carpenter with his seraphic wings and began squeezing the last of life from his prey.

And Mary’s Son cried out with His last breath,

Father,
…..into
……….Your hands
……………I commit
………………..My Spirit.

With that, the Carpenter died, carrying with Him all enemies, save Death!
Death now threw up his defiant fist in final victory and shouted,

I have ended
…..even Life!
I am victor
…..and
Conqueror
…..of
All things.

Death turned to go, darkness radiating from his face in black, triumphant glow.

Out from somewhere, in a mystery beyond all knowledge, some immeasurable power laid hold of Death. The black angel turned and screamed. Marshalling all his strength he brought forth a force to bear upon this unseen power that caused the archangels to drop to their knees in fear.

Angels, who had never dreamed that even one power so great existed, watched two such powers in mortal combat.

For a moment it seems these powers were equal and that Death might wrest himself free. But slowly, relentlessly, the Angel of Death was drawn toward the still, dead figure hanging upon that wondrous tree. At last, his strength drained from him, the Angel of Death screamed in horror, and disappeared into the bosom of the Nazarene.

And Death himself did die!

And so were crucified all things. And such was the death of the Son of God.

 

 

 

 

Oh, yes,
There was one other thing.
Placed upon the cross
…..that day—
You were crucified with Christ.

“Saul is in your bloodstream, in the marrow of your bones. He makes up the very flesh and muscle of your heart. He is mixed into your soul. He inhabits the nuclei of your atoms.”

No one who reads this blog has ever suffered at the hands of self-righteous, authoritarian church leaders, I’m sure.

But just in case you do, here’s some excerpts from A Tale of Three Kings: A Study in Brokenness by Gene Edwards [PDF]. He does take some liberties (and arguably makes some blunders) with the biblical narrative, but his message is both encouraging and convicting.

“Dedicated to the brokenhearted Christians coming out of authoritarian groups, seeking solace, healing and hope. May you somehow recover and go on with Him who is liberty.

And to Christians who have been, or presently are, involved in the heart-rending experience of a division within your fellowship. May this story give you light, clarity and comfort. And may you, too, somehow recover and go on with Him who is peace.

And may you both be so utterly healed that you can still answer the call of Him who asks for all because He is all.”

[I find this one very hard to post. It gets a bit too close to the bone for me. But there is something here for all of us.]

“Be sure we are willing to accept anything
into our lives as from the Lord,
except those things which can really alter us.”

From The Inward Journey, by Gene Edwards. [1]

Chris,

I’ll give you a riddle and if you can answer the question for me fully let me know. I have been ministering the Lord for three decades now. It has been a ministry within the walls of church life and a ministry which I hope—and believe—has been centred in the Lord Jesus Christ. But here is my mystery: There are some Christians who have come among us who are greatly flawed: they come, listen to the messages, take notes and never miss a meeting; they arrive at every 6 a.m. prayer meeting, read all the good books, do everything exactly as recommended for those who are young in Christ; they pray, sing, testify, wait patiently before the Lord, do everything that Scripture itself admonishes them to do. Yet, they do not change. Why is this? I do not know. But I have noticed something. On a few occasions, I have seen such deeply flawed brothers and sisters, after many years of going on unchanged, and sometimes getting away with near murder, I might add, confronted at last.

A very peculiar thing happens: More often than not, on the very day they are confronted, they also pack their bags and leave. They may have inflicted years and years of hardship upon the rest of us with their abominable ways (and we did not confront them because their hearts seemed so much for the Lord and we pitied their inability to handle their deep psychological flaws), but once confronted, they ended their sojourn into the deep things of Christ … on the spot. This is not always true, of course. But it is true enough to spice our interest in watching the passing parade. I do not know exactly why some people pack and leave when the Lord gets down to bedrock, but somehow, when the Lord got into the neighbourhood of their real problems—not surface issues—they left. We came very close to finding out what it was they were holding onto so dearly. So dearly that they didn’t want it touched or changed.

I was, of course, speaking of saints who are deeply flawed. But Chris, all of us are deeply flawed! You. Me. And that neat, near-perfect Christian sitting next to you.

There are always a few hidden flaws in each of us, flaws so well hidden we don’t know we have them. (Usually our brothers and sisters know, though. Isn’t that fascinating? We can’t see our flaws. Others can. Three cheers for close-knit church life.) Those flaws constitute the major field upon which the battle for our transformation will be fought. I am quick to add that even an all-powerful Lord has a difficult time tearing out some of those well-hidden problems of our lives.

I would like to talk about this a little bit more, for this has troubled me throughout the entire length of my ministry. On several occasions I have gone to a very damaged Christian and asked him to please seek professional help. Sometimes my fellow Christian went off, not to get help but to pout. (Or, in order to maintain his facade of submission to to others, he responded and went … once.) Remember, I am referring to young believers like yourself who—like you—fervently asked the Lord to transform them at any cost; young Christians who invited the Lord’s cross into their lives. The question before this House is this, does such a believer really want help? Does he really wish to be transformed or is he simply enjoying being a Christian and being a part of a people who have given their lives for the Lord? Is he unconsciously enjoying the ministry, the singing, the fellowshipping with Christ in his spirit, yet somehow building a fence around that hidden man, making sure that nothing dear to self is broken? Is he so weak and lame of soul that he is afraid that if his crutches, his psychological quirks and peculiarities, are challenged he will somehow fall flat on his face, never to recover?

Why is it that many Christians never change, even in some of the most ideal spiritual circumstances ever known?

I do not know the answer, but Chris, I would ask you, are you willing ultimately to be confronted concerning weakness in your life of which you seem to be totally unaware? Whether you are confronted properly or improperly (and I fear in this day and age it will probably be an improper confrontation by an improper person in the midst of an improper work), the fact remains that your reaction to that confrontation will speak volumes of the kind of person you really are.

I have to admit that sometimes my heart cheers when I see a cross coming to penetrate that erstwhile Christian, a cross so great that even he cannot escape the change it will work in him. And come it does, invariably…

There has to be one fact established in you. It just might be central to your going on with the Lord. It is this: Everything that comes into your life is ordered by God. To a Christian, nothing is accidental. This includes some awfully, awfully unfair events. Expect to be treated unfairly often.

I’ll use a grizzly example. Let’s say you get married. Let’s say that about eight years later your wife tells you she is seriously considering a divorce. (Ouch, sorry to use so cruel a thought. I suppose I’m trying very hard to get your attention, Chris.) The looming divorce may not be the Lord’s will, but He just might use such extreme circumstances to root out some deep flaw in your makeup. Full possession of your soul is His ultimate goal.

Now, I confess I was reluctant to use such means to get your attention. Let me tell you why. I recall too vividly how many times I’ve said such things to Christian young people and I watched them walk away hunting under every rock for the work of God in their lives and calling everything that enters their life “the sovereign hand of the Lord to transform me.” Be sure we are willing to accept anything into our lives as from the Lord, except those things which can really alter us. Then we forget about the whole idea of transformation. Sometimes we are momentary atheists, forgetting even that there is a God.

I’ve watched many young people try to produce a divine work in their lives or hoist some trivial problem to such a high status. The effort is sometimes tragic and sometimes comical, but always ludicrous. You can no more imitate what divine life produces in a life than a dog can successfully imitate a man. There is that much discrepancy!  I’ve come, at the end of thirty years of ministry, to realise that the highest revelation delivered concerning the Lord and His ways is not enough to deal with those basic human flaws with which all of us are cursed. Having the highest revealing there is, imitating the highest revelation of His life that man can grasp, turning over every rock in your life and calling it the work of God to transform you, all this is pretty much futile.

At the end of 30 years of working with young people, I have too many vivid memories of 19-, 20- and 21-year-olds fasting, praying, singing, praising and giving, doing everything and anything they could to make sure God gained ground in them, only to see the most basic flaws remain … untouched … even fifteen years later.

The work of the cross comes in many different styles, sizes, many different packages and many different colours. It’s a rare Christian who truly understands what the cross is in his life. Let me put that another way. It is a rare Christian who can correctly identify the cross as truly being the cross once it arrives. Our fallen nature is an absolute genius at keeping the most important part of self’s habits from ever going to the cross. Consequently something in us keeps us from seeing the cross even when it is right in front of us. Or, we give the cross a new name, “Unjust, undeserved treatment at the hands of a bunch of buzzards!” Call it that if you wish, but it is, in fact, still the cross, sent by the Lord Himself.

But the cross can come the very opposite way. You can also believe something is the cross when it isn’t. For you, it may be that day when you face a Christian friend who tells you, “This is not the cross of Christ in your life; you simply have masochistic tendencies!”

To hear the truth of those devastating words … and to deal with the truth revealed … that will be your cross.

Let’s look at another Christian, one who thinks he is bearing his cross so beautifully. His cross, in his eyes at least, is a bickering, nagging wife. Once day he is finally confronted with the truth: “Brother, you are not bearing the cross! You are a secretive non-communicating man who keeps you whole personality hidden away from view. Your wife is not a nagger, she is being driven stark-raving mad by the fact that you have not let her know who you are. You are afraid, you are hidden, in fact, you are downright deceptive. Forbearing with your wife’s nagging has absolutely nothing to do with the cross nor with what the Lord really wishes to accomplish in your life. On top of everything else, you are super-religious. Your precious cross is a cover-up, a cop-out, a bail-out for the real cross that is needed in your life. Your jaw would probably break if you started communicating with your wife. You are safe in your silence … the risk and terror and pain would be in talking. You haven’t even started knowing the cross. On top of everything else, you know virtually nothing about true spirituality; you are a super-religious, secretive recluse who is just about to put the finishing touches on driving your wife loony.”

Whew. If that brother, facing truth in stark reality, accepts such exposure, then he will have allowed the Lord to reveal the true meaning of the cross to his life … perhaps for the first time.

For another brother, his day is up when he realises that his very refined ability to not confront someone (but, rather, to bear the cross) is really an act of cowardice. To confront would be his real cross.

Conversely, there is the brother who is very proud of the fact that he is frank and outspoken and quick to get things into the light. Somewhere, someday, he will be faced with almost the opposite reality. He is going to have to face up to the fact that there is a cruelness in him, that he is a callous, compassionless man, and for him to speak is to refuse the cross. For him to be silent and to accept (as he sees it) injustices would almost kill him. If he manages … then the Lord has won a victory.

The wife who thinks that she is the perfect mother and doing such a wonderful job of being the godly wife and mother, may one day have to face the fact the she is, more than anything else, self-righteous about her perfection. The brother who constantly, daily pours out his life for others, serving others, who is loved and revered as a true servant of the Lord … (we all love him … after all, look at all he has done for each of us. Here, truly, is a Christian): One day he may have to realise that he is not really serving the Lord but that he is psychologically a very insecure individual and is trying to buy other people’s favour by his helpfulness.

Then, there is the sister who is constantly praising the Lord, has given up marriage to serve the Lord full time, is looked upon as one who is truly a disciple of Christ, the picture of the perfect celibate Christian. That woman may one day have to face the stark fact that she is unconsciously a man-hater or is afraid of sex, or has latent homosexual tendencies, and that she has a very low self-image and is trying to buy favour with Christ and with Christians; or unconsciously feels that the Lord was punishing her for being such a nerd. Wow, if she ever gets caught in this act of self-deception … that will be the blackest day of her life. Will she be able to survive? Would she follow Christ if he required her to marry and drop this deception?

I have seen many Christians who fit the above categories. (You should read what I left out.) When their lives are brought down into shambles in some divine bursts of exposure, truly they taste the full power of the cross for the first time.

As I said, the true cross comes in some very surprising packages.

Be sure, when the exposing onslaught of light hits, some Christians prefer to continue the masquerade, steal away in the night and set up their act in the next town.

In fact, when light finally hits “the real you,” not one of us wins any medals for gracious acceptance.

None of what I have mentioned here to you may be true; that godly woman who never married may truly be godly. That almost perfect mother may truly be almost perfect. That brother who holds his tongue when he is being damned and gossiped and lied about may truly be doing the highest thing on earth. All of that may well be true; but in every one of these people, behind some dark, long-forgotten dungeon door lies a deep, hidden psychological flaw which the Lord is determined to locate, to bring to the light, and to change! That hour may well contain for you more pain than you have ever experienced. In that hour, you will hurt, Chris. There is an excellent chance that you may be very tempted to turn away from the Lord’s cross in that moment.

Each of us is carrying around something very precious which we, despite all of our expressions of devotion to the Lord, are not about to give up to the cross. Tragedy of all tragedies … we seem never to know this.

As one brother wisely put it, “The cross is usually exactly the opposite of what we thought it was.” In the light of all I have said here, is it any surprise God uses sorrow and pain to get through our defenses? What else, pray tell, could penetrate such a bulwark?

__________________________________

1. Edwards’ books contain some very helpful insights, but read them with caution. This post should be helpful for mature Christians but could be very unhelpful for newer ones. The intended result is not a witch-hunt for hidden motives, as it became for a close friend of mine, but a greater faith and more willing submission under the hands of a loving Father who works everything together for good. So don’t get too introspective. As Doug Wilson says of the human heart, “it’s dark in there.” Look away to Christ. He knows what’s in there and (without negating the obedience He requires), He will deal with it in His time. Just don’t be surprised when He does.

See also Behind Closed Doors.

Was the mainstay of his Christian life prayer and Bible study? He did pray, but was prayer the central pillar of his secret to living the Christian life? That just does not seem to fit, does it? The Son depending on prayer and Bible study to make it through the day?

Actually, this idea, your Lord needing to read his Bible every day to get through life as a believer, is an insult (1) to his preexistence in eternity and (2) to the fact that his Father indwelt him. Your Lord did not live the Christian life by means of Bible study. But he quoted it, did he not? Does that not mean he was dependent on reading his Bible every day? And have we not often had pointed out to us his dependence on prayer and Bible study? And what of prayer? It is true that he rose early in the morning and went to a quiet place to pray. But do not read into such scenes the modern-day concept of what prayer is. Be careful, or you will see a man who is out there on his own all day long, praying, reading his Bible, and trying hard to be a good Christian . . . even a man so much on his own that he has to pray every morning without fail to make it through the day (making it through the day being dependent on his reading the Bible and praying that morning).

The fallacies of that scene are endless, but this one stands out the most. All day long the Lord Jesus was not alone. There was not one second when he was outside of constant, conscious fellowship with his Father.

My grandpa was a Louisiana Cajun who loved His Lord boundlessly. He was a total illiterate. But that did not stop grandpa. He would ceremoniously pick up his Bible and hold it in front of him and stare at it intently for long periods of time. The problem was, he almost always held the Bible upside down! Now that is really illiterate; and, yep, that was my grandpa. And, yes, he loved his Lord and spoke of his intimacy with the Lord in a way that few literate Bible scholars or Greek-reading theologians could ever hope to match!

“Without the Father, I can do nothing.”
“The life I live, I live by means of my Father.”

—Gene Edwards