I suspect that often we...
Illustration
I suspect that often we may be standing in the presence of the living God and not realize it. Missing what has been there all along is addressed in a Jewish folktale titled "The Heavenly City."
There was once a poor man who grew weary of the corruption and hatred that he experienced every day. He was tired of the constant injustice that his people experienced. His family and friends listened as he spoke passionately of his desire for a city where justice was honored and peace experienced. Night after night he dreamed of a land free from discord, a city where heaven touched earth.
One day he announced that he could wait no longer. He packed a meager meal, kissed his family, and set out in search of the magical city of his dreams. He walked all day, and just before the sun set, he found a place to sleep just off the road, in a forest. He ate his sandwich, said his prayers, and smoothed the earth where he would lie. Just before he went to sleep he placed his shoes in the center of the path, pointing them in the direction he would continue the next day.
That night, as he slept, a sly fellow walked that very path and discovered the traveler's shoes. Unable to resist a practical joke, he turned the shoes around pointing them in the direction from which the man had come.
Early the next morning the traveler rose, said his prayers, ate what remained of the food he had brought, and started his journey by walking in the direction his shoes pointed. He walked all day long, and just before the sun set, saw the heavenly city off in the distance. It wasn't as large as he expected, and it looked strangely familiar. He entered a street that looked much like his own, knocked on a familiar door, greeted the family he found there, and lived happily ever after in the heavenly city of his dreams.
(William White, Stories For Telling, p. 92)
There was once a poor man who grew weary of the corruption and hatred that he experienced every day. He was tired of the constant injustice that his people experienced. His family and friends listened as he spoke passionately of his desire for a city where justice was honored and peace experienced. Night after night he dreamed of a land free from discord, a city where heaven touched earth.
One day he announced that he could wait no longer. He packed a meager meal, kissed his family, and set out in search of the magical city of his dreams. He walked all day, and just before the sun set, he found a place to sleep just off the road, in a forest. He ate his sandwich, said his prayers, and smoothed the earth where he would lie. Just before he went to sleep he placed his shoes in the center of the path, pointing them in the direction he would continue the next day.
That night, as he slept, a sly fellow walked that very path and discovered the traveler's shoes. Unable to resist a practical joke, he turned the shoes around pointing them in the direction from which the man had come.
Early the next morning the traveler rose, said his prayers, ate what remained of the food he had brought, and started his journey by walking in the direction his shoes pointed. He walked all day long, and just before the sun set, saw the heavenly city off in the distance. It wasn't as large as he expected, and it looked strangely familiar. He entered a street that looked much like his own, knocked on a familiar door, greeted the family he found there, and lived happily ever after in the heavenly city of his dreams.
(William White, Stories For Telling, p. 92)
