The Voice of Jesus
by Linda Chubbuck
(used by permission of Linda Chubbuck www.lindachubbuck.com)
The Voice of Jesus has been published in
The Holy Encounter and Miracle Worker magazines.
A few weeks ago, my 10-year old son
and I were chatting about A Course in Miracles. I told him how it came
(without mentioning a source) and read him the introduction. He was
enchanted.
The next day, he asked another
question about it. I answered.
The following day, I noticed him
flipping through the Course himself. Strange, I thought. "August, what
is it about the Course that especially interests you?" I asked.
He replied, with a sense of wonder,
"It's the Voice! It's gentle, but commmanding.... like Aslan!"
I felt a shiver of awe pass through
me. He is currently devouring each of the books in the Chronicles of
Narnia series, by CS. Lewis. And Aslan, the Lion, is known to be
Lewis's metaphor for Christ. August had recognized the Voice of Jesus
in the Course as familiar to him, and as loving and powerful.
My childhood experience of Jesus
was the opposite. By the time I was a young woman, I wanted no part of
Jesus. His very name made me feel nauseated and repelled. It conjured
up images from childhood sermons of suffering, bloody thorns on his
head, and my own guilty part in the crucifixion.
Too wilful to come to Jesus out of
obedience and fear, I instead rejected, by my early 20's, the whole
business - God, along with his scolding, judgmental Son, and all the
rules which would almost certainly condemn me to hell. If I didn't
believe in them, they couldn't hurt me, could they?
By my mid-30's, my defiance caught
up with me. Though living an apparently successful life, I was coming
apart at the seams inside. In great humility, I came to know God
through the simple medium of prayer. My journey had begun.
My resentment of Jesus, however,
continued. Eventually, I found myself offering Jesus himself a simple
prayer - "Sorry, Jesus, that I can't stand you. I know it's not your
fault, all the things people have done in your name. But I just get
along better without you. Thanks for understanding." I continued on my
way.
Living in the Bible Belt, I was
reminded regularly of His presence. "Jesus" bumper stickers.... "How
crude! Just the sort of people to try and cram Him down your throat, no
doubt!" "Jesus Died for Your Sins" road signs - I could hardly bear to
look at them, they irritated me so.
A few years after my re-connection
to God, I was given a gift of A Course in Miracles. Intrigued, I opened
it, and tried. But as soon as I understood that Jesus was a part of it,
I closed it again. No way. Sorry, but my stomach turned again. The book
sat on my shelf.
I began, however, to read authors
who wrote of the Course - Jerry Jampolsky, and later, Marianne
Williamson. They wisely, I thought, omitted any annoying mention of
Jesus. So I could take it. I savoured their books.
Then in November of 1993, in an
emotional crisis, I was led to a staunch and very compassionate Baptist
woman, to whom I poured out my fears of the church, Jesus, and hell.
She listened lovingly, and offered to pray with me. She asked if I
wanted to invite Jesus into my life. Terrified and in tears, I agreed.
We prayed together, and I did so.
I drove home in a panic. What had I
done? This Man, this symbol of fear and judgment and hell and suffering
- I had invited Him into my life? Did I have to stop all sin instantly?
Would I go to hell? What did I have to believe now? I was sobbing.
I came to my computer, weeping, and
wrote out all the quesions... poured them out. As the questions ended,
a Voice at my left shoulder, with the power to be heard over all my
fears, spoke: "There are answers."
1t was so loving, so powerful. I
knew it was Jesus speaking, and I understood that He meant the answers
would unfold ahead of me, and that I need not be afraid. I was
comforted.
An hour later, I picked up the
Course, and this time, did not set it down. I devoured the Text, then
began the lessons over the next few weeks. I hungered for it, and cried
and wept as I took in His words, His love. Here were the answers I had
asked for.
Looking back, I know that I was
pulled by His power, over the wall of my distrust, into His arms. For
quite some time, I preferred to pray to the Holy Spirit, while
acknowledging Jesus' place in the whole system. The more abstract form
of God seemed "safer" somehow. But recently, I have realized that true
intimacy is linked to forgiveness - and forgiveness is Jesus' realm.
The Voice that I heard at times,
but preferred to call the Holy Spirit, or my angels, I now address as
"Jesus." That Voice is, as my son put it, always "gentle, but
commanding." Never scolding, shaming, or condemning - but always very,
very intimate and tender and personal.
Last week, I told my son a bit
about my former repulsion for Jesus, and asked how he (raised outside
the church) thought of Jesus, when he thought of Him.
He replied, not surprisingly I
guess, "Like Aslan."
I still find myself carrying shame
and embarrassment as I use the name of Jesus. Or my cynical ego voice
will berate me that I am losing my sanity, listening to "voices!" But
the consistency, and the compelling quality of His Voice reassure me.
If Jesus can speak through
different humans, and still be lovingly recogized by a child... that is
the Voice I want to hear forever.