Jesus Calling

. . . notes on the name by which God knows us

Jesus does not call you by the name your parents gave you, nor by any name or label the world gives. He does not call you by a name that is different from the name by which he calls me or anyone else. He doesn't speak a language only you understand.

The Name of God's Son is one, and you are enjoined to do the works of love because we share this Oneness. Our minds are whole because they are one (T-8.IX.7:3-4).

In the world we want to be special. The dream is Jesus finds us in a crowd, singles us out with a meaningful glance, beckons us to his side with a subtle gesture. We want to be chosen. We want to be the chosen.

Do you know this feeling? In Luke's gospel, the disciples argue over "which of them would be considered the greatest" (Luke 22:24). It’s not a new or unfamiliar problem.

Thinking and acting like we're better than others isn't a crime against God or nature. It's just an illusion born of fear so Jesus doesn't even acknowledge it. It has nothing to do with the name by which he knows us, the only name by which we are worthy to be called and, therefore, the only name by which he does call us.

Miracles will not fade when dreaming ends. They end the dream instead; and last forever, for they come from God to His dear Son, whose other name is you (W-pI.106.4:6-7).

For a long time I was sure I knew the name. Then I doubted myself. Then I knew I didn't know the name. Then I remembered it. Or was pretty sure I remembered it . . .

Like disciples arguing, this went on for a long time, to no helpful end. I didn't know my name, and I couldn't hear Jesus. Or I did know and I could hear but I believed I wasn't worthy and so I didn't respond, which meant I didn't actually know my name.

It was a lonely and difficult time and in the end, I just gave up. I was defeated, and I surrendered.

I am not a stranger to surrender. I have touched the bottom in my life. Once coming to covered in vomit on a park bench in Burlington, Vermont. Once in a fight I was taken away from in an ambulance.

Those were bad but both pale beside the grim nihilism - the brutal, soul-sucking emptiness - of giving up on ever understanding A Course in Miracles and, by extension, knowing God and Love.

Yet I am grateful for that moment, for it was then - knowing that left to my own devices I was not only not going to wake up, I was going to make the world worse than it already was - that I heard the name.

This is a story of one student's experience. It is not a law. I am not saying you need to bottom out. But I am not saying you don't, either. I am asking: do you know the name by which Jesus calls us?

Love,
Sean