The Shack
Yum! It doesn’t get any better than that.”
Everyone laughed and then busily resumed passing platters and helping themselves. As Mack ate, he listened to the banter between the three. They talked and laughed like old friends who knew one another intimately. As he thought about it, that was assuredly more true for his hosts than anyone inside or outside Creation. He was envious of the carefree but respectful conversation and wondered what it would take to share that with Nan and maybe even with some friends.
Again Mack was struck by the wonder and sheer absurdity of the moment. His mind wandered through the incredible conversations that had involved him during the previous twenty-four hours. Wow! He had only been here one day? And what was he supposed to do with all this when he got back home? He knew that he would tell Nan everything. She might not believe him and not that he would blame her; he probably wouldn’t believe any of it either.
As his mind picked up speed he felt himself withdrawing from the others. None of this could be real. He closed his eyes and tried to shut out the exchanges going on around him. Suddenly, it was dead silent. He slowly opened one eye, half expecting to be waking up at home. Instead, Papa, Jesus, and Sarayu were all staring at him with silly grins plastered to their faces. He didn’t even try to explain himself. He knew that they knew.
Instead he pointed to one of the dishes and asked, “Could I try some of that?” The interactions resumed and this time he listened. But again, he felt himself withdrawing. To counteract it, he decided to ask a question.
“Why do you love us humans? I suppose, I…” As he spoke he realized he hadn’t formed his question very well. “I guess what I want to ask, is why do you love me, when I have nothing to offer you?”
“If you think about it, Mack,” Jesus answered, “it should be very freeing to know that you can offer us nothing, at least not anything that can add or take away from who we are…
That should alleviate any pressure to perform.”
“And do you love your own children more when they perform well?” added Papa.
“No, I see your point.” Mack paused. “But I do feel more fulfilled because they are in my life-do you?”
“No,” said Papa. “We are already fully fulfilled within our-self. You are designed to be in community as well, made as you are in our very image. So for you to feel that way about your children, or anything that ‘adds’ to you, is perfectly natural and right. Keep in mind, Mackenzie, that I am not a human being, not in my very nature, despite how we have chosen to be with you this weekend. I am truly human, in Jesus, but I am a totally separate other in my nature.”
“You do know-of course you do,” Mack said apologetically-”that I can only follow that line of thought so far, and then I get lost and my brain turns to mush?”
“I understand,” acknowledged Papa. “You cannot see in your mind’s eye something that you cannot experience.”
Mack thought about that for a moment. “I guess so… Whatever… See? Mush.”
When the others stopped laughing, Mack continued. “You know how truly grateful I am for everything, but you’ve dumped a whole lot in my lap this weekend. What do I do when I get back? What do you expect of me now?”
Jesus and Papa both turned to Sarayu, who had a fork full of something halfway to her mouth. She slowly put it back down onto her plate and then answered Mack’s confused look.
“Mack,” she began, “you must forgive these two. Humans have a tendency to restructure language according to their independence and need to perform. So when I hear language abused in favor of rules over sharing life with us, it is difficult for me to remain silent.”
“As it must,” added Papa.
“So what exactly did I say?” asked Mack, now quite curious.
“Mack, go ahead and finish your bite. We can talk as you eat.”
Mack realized that he too had a fork halfway to his mouth. He gratefully took the bite as Sarayu began to speak. As she did, she seemed to lift off her chair and shimmer with a dance of subtle hues and shades and the room was faintly filling with an array of aromas, incense-like and heady.
“Let me answer that by asking you a question. Why do you think we came up with the Ten Commandments?”
Again Mack had his fork halfway to his mouth, but took the bite anyway while he thought of how to answer Sarayu.
“I suppose, at least I have been taught, that it’s a set of rules that you expected humans to obey in order to live righteously in your good graces.”
“If that were true, which it is not,” Sarayu countered, “then how many do you think lived righteously enough to enter our good graces?”
“Not very many, if people are like me,” Mack observed.
“Actually, only one succeeded-Jesus. He not only obeyed the letter of the law but fulfilled the spirit of it completely. But understand this, Mackenzie-to do that he had to rest fully and dependently upon me.”
“Then why did you give us those commandments?” asked Mack.
“Actually, we wanted you to give up trying to be righteous on your own. It was a mirror to reveal just how filthy your face gets when you live independently.”
“But as I’m sure you know there are many,” responded Mack, “who think they are made righteous by following the rules.”
“But can you clean your face with the same mirror that shows you how dirty you are? There is no mercy or grace in rules, not even for one mistake. That’s why Jesus fulfilled all of it for you-so that it no longer has jurisdiction over you. And the Law that once contained impossible demands-Thou Shall Not…-actually becomes a promise we fulfill in you.”
She was on a roll now, her countenance billowing and moving. “But keep in mind that if you live your life alone and independently, the promise is empty. Jesus laid the demand of the law to rest; it no longer has any power to accuse or command. Jesus is both the promise and its fulfillment.”
“Are you saying I don’t have to follow the rules?” Mack had now completely stopped eating and was concentrating on the conversation.
“Yes. In Jesus you are not under any law. All things are lawful.”
“You can’t be serious! You’re messing with me again,” moaned Mack.
“Child,” interrupted Papa, “you ain’t heard nuthin’ yet.”
“Mackenzie,” Sarayu continued, “those who are afraid of freedom are those who cannot trust us to live in them. Trying to keep the law is actually a declaration of independence, a way of keeping control.”
“Is that why we like the law so much-to give us some control?” asked Mack.
“It is much worse than that,” resumed Sarayu. “It grants you the power to judge others and feel superior to them. You believe you are living to a higher standard than those you judge. Enforcing rules, especially in its more subtle expressions like responsibility and expectation, is a vain attempt to create certainty out of uncertainty. And contrary to what you might think, I have a great fondness for uncertainty. Rules cannot bring freedom; they only have the power to accuse.”
“Whoa!” Mack suddenly realized what Sarayu had said. “Are you telling me that responsibility and expectation are just another form of rules we are no longer under? Did I hear you right?”
“Yup,” Papa interjected again. “Now we’re in it-Sarayu, he is all yours!”
Mack ignored Papa, choosing instead to concentrate on Sarayu, which was no easy task.
Sarayu smiled at Papa and then back at Mack. She began to speak slowly and deliberately. “Mackenzie, I will take a verb over a noun anytime.”
She stopped and waited. Mack wasn’t at all sure about what he was supposed to understand by her cryptic remark and said the only thing that came to mind. “Huh?”
“I,” she opened her hands to include Jesus and Papa, “I am a verb. I am that I am. I will be who I will be. I am a verb! I am alive, dynamic, ever active, and moving. I am a being verb.”
Mack still felt like he had a blank stare on his face. He understood the words she was saying, but it just wasn’t connecting yet.
“And as my very essence is a verb,” she continued, “I am more attuned to verbs than nouns. Verbs such as confessing, repenting, living, loving, responding, growing, reaping, changing, sowing, running, dancing, singing, and on and on. Humans, on the other hand, have a knack for taking a verb that is alive and full of grace and turning it into a dead noun or principle that reeks of rules: something growing and alive dies. Nouns exist because there is a created universe and physical reality, but if the universe is only a mass of nouns, it is dead. Unless ‘I am,’ there are no verbs, and verbs are what makes the universe alive.”
“And,” Mack was still struggling, although a glimmer of light seemed to begin to shine into his mind. “And, this means what, exactly?”
Sarayu seemed unperturbed by his lack of understanding. “For something to move from death to life you must introduce something living and moving into the mix. To move from something that is only a noun to something dynamic and unpredictable, to something living and present tense, is to move from law to grace. May I give you a couple examples?”
“Please do,” assented Mack. “I’m all ears.”
Jesus chuckled and Mack scowled at him before turning back to Sarayu. The faintest shadow of a smile crossed her face as she resumed.
“Then let’s use your two words: responsibility and expectation. Before your words became nouns, they were first my words, nouns with movement and experience buried inside of them; the ability to respond and expectancy. My words are alive and dynamic-full of life and possibility; yours are dead, full of law and fear and judgment. That is why you won’t find the word responsibility in the Scriptures.”
“Oh boy,” Mack grimaced, beginning to see where this was going. “We sure seem to use it a lot.”
“Religion must use law to empower itself and control the people who they need in order to survive. I give you an ability to respond and your response is to be free to love and serve in every situation, and therefore each moment is different and unique and wonderful. Because I am your ability to respond, I have to be present in you. If I simply gave you a responsibility, I would not have to be with you at all. It would now be a task to perform, an obligation to be met, something to fail.”
“Oh boy, oh boy,” Mack said again, without much enthusiasm.
“Let’s use the example of friendship and how removing the element of life from a noun can drastically alter a relationship. Mack, if you and I are friends, there is an expectancy that exists within our relationship. When we see each other or are apart, there is expectancy of being together, of laughing and talking. That expectancy has no concrete definition; it is alive and dynamic and everything that emerges from our being together is a unique gift shared by no one else. But what happens if I change that ‘expectancy’ to an ‘expectation’-spoken or unspoken? Suddenly, law has entered into our relationship. You are now expected to perform in a way that meets my expectations. Our living friendship rapidly deteriorates into a dead thing with rules and requirements. It is no longer about you and me, but about what friends are supposed to do, or the responsibilities of a good friend.”
“Or,” noted Mack, “the responsibilities of a husband, or a father, or employee, or whatever. I get the picture. I would much rather live in expectancy.” “As I do,” mused Sarayu.
“But,” argued Mack, “if you didn’t have expectations and responsibilities, wouldn’t everything just fall apart?”
“Only if you are of the world, apart from me and under the law. Responsibilities and expectations are the basis of guilt and shame and judgment, and they provide the essential framework that promotes performance as the basis for identity and value. You know well what it is like not to live up to someone’s expectations.”
“Boy, do I!” Mack mumbled. “It’s not my idea of a good time.” He paused briefly, a new thought flashing through his mind. “Are you saying you have no expectations of me?”
Papa now spoke up. “Honey, I’ve never placed an expectation on you or anyone else. The idea behind expectations requires that someone does not know the future or outcome and is trying to control behavior to get the desired result. Humans try to control behavior largely through expectations. I know you and everything about you. Why would I have an expectation other than what I already know? That would be foolish. And beyond that, because I have no expectations, you never disappoint me.”
“What? You’ve never been disappointed in me?” Mack was trying hard to digest this.
“Never!” Papa stated emphatically. “What I do have is a constant and living expectancy in our relationship, and I give you an ability to respond to any situation and circumstance in which you find yourself. To the degree that you resort to expectations and responsibilities, to that degree you neither know me nor trust me.”
“And,” interjected Jesus, “to that degree you will live in fear.”
“But,” Mack wasn’t convinced. “But don’t you want us to set priorities? You know: God first, then whatever, followed by whatever?”
“The trouble with living by priorities,” Sarayu spoke, “is that it sees everything as a hierarchy, a pyramid, and you and I have already had that discussion. If you put God at the top, what does that really mean and how much is enough? How much time do you give me before you can go on about the rest of your day, the part that interests you so much more?”
Papa again interrupted. “You see, Mackenzie, I don’t just want a piece of you and a piece of your life. Even if you were able, which you are not, to give me the biggest piece, that is not what I want. I want all of you and all of every part of you and your day.”
Jesus now spoke again. “Mack, I don’t want to be first among a list of values; I want to be at the center of everything. When I live in you, then together we can live through everything that happens to you. Rather than a pyramid, I want to be the center of a mobile, where everything in your life-your friends, family, occupation, thoughts, activities-is connected to me but moves with the wind, in and out and back and forth, in an incredible dance of being.”
“And I,” concluded Sarayu, “I am the wind.” She smiled hugely and bowed.
There was silence while Mack collected himself. He had been gripping the edge of the table with both hands as if to hold on to something tangible in the face of such an onslaught of ideas and images.
“Well, enough of all this,” stated Papa, getting up from her chair. “Time for some fun! You all go ahead while I put away the stuff that’ll spoil. I’ll take care of the dishes later.”
“What about devotion?” asked Mack.
“Nothing is a ritual, Mack,” said Papa, picking up a few platters of food. “So tonight, we are doing something different. You are going to enjoy this!”
As Mack stood up and turned to follow Jesus to the back door, he felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around. Sarayu was standing close, looking at him intently.
“Mackenzie, if you would allow me, I would like to give you a gift for this evening. May I touch your eyes and heal them, just for tonight?”
Mack was surprised. “I see well enough, don’t I?”
“Actually,” Sarayu said apologetically, “you see very little even though for a human you see fairly well. But just for tonight, I would love you to see a bit of what we see.”
“Then by all means,” Mack agreed. “Please touch my eyes and more if you choose.”
As she reached her hands toward him, Mack closed his eyes and leaned forward. Her touch was like ice, unexpected and exhilarating. A delicious shiver went through him and he reached up to hold her hands to his face. There was nothing there, so he slowly began to open his eyes.
15 A FESTIVAL OF FRIENDS
You can kiss your family and friends good-bye and
put miles between you, but at the same time you carry them with
you in your heart, your mind, your stomach, because you do not
just live in a world but a world lives in you.
– Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth
When Mack opened his eyes he had to immediately shield them from a blinding light that overwhelmed him. Then he heard something.
“You will find it very difficult to look at me directly,” spoke the voice of Sarayu, “or at Papa. But as your mind becomes accustomed to the changes, it will be easier.”
He was standing right where he had closed his eyes, but the shack was gone as well as the dock and shop. Instead he was outside, perched on the top of a small hill under a brilliant but moonless night sky. He could see that the stars were in motion, not hurriedly but smoothly and with precision, as if there were grand celestial conductors coordinating their movements.
Occasionally, as if on cue, comets and meteor showers would tumble through the starry ranks, adding variation to the flowing dance. Then Mack saw some of the stars grow and change color as if they were turning nova or white dwarf. It was as if time itself had become dynamic and volatile, adding to the seeming chaotic but precisely managed heavenly display.
He turned back to Sarayu, who still stood next to him. Although she was still difficult to look at directly, he could now make out symmetry and colors embedded within patterns, as if miniature diamonds, rubies, and sapphires of all colors had been sewn into a garment of light, which moved first in waves and then scattered as particulate.
“It is all so incredibly beautiful,” he whispered, surrounded as he was by such a holy and majestic sight.
“Truly,” came the voice of Sarayu from out of the light. “Now, Mackenzie, look around.”
He did, and gasped. Even in the darkness of the night everything had clarity and shone with halos of light in various hues and shades of color. The forest was itself afire with light and color, yet each tree was distinctly visible, each branch, each leaf. Birds and bats created a trail of colored fire as they flew or chased each other. He could even see that in the distance an army of Creation was in attendance: deer, bear, mountain sheep, and majestic elk near the edges of the forest, and otter and beaver in the lake, each shining in its own colors and blaze. Myriads of little creatures scampered and darted everywhere, each alive within its own glory.
In a rush of peach and plum and currant flames, an osprey dove toward the surface of the lake, but pulled up at the last instant to skim across its surface, sparks from its wings falling like snow into the waters as it passed. Behind it, a large rainbow-clothed lake trout burst through the surface as if to taunt a passing hunter and then dropped back in a midst of a splash of colors.
Mack felt larger than life, as if he were able to be present wherever he looked. Two bear cubs playing near the feet of their mother caught his eye, ochre, mint, and hazel tumbling as they rolled and laughed in their native tongue. From where he stood, Mack felt that he could reach out and touch them, and without thought stretched out his arm. He drew it back, startled, as he realized that he too was ablaze. He looked at his hands, wonderfully crafted, and clearly visible inside the cascading colors of light that seemed to glove them. He examined the rest of his body to find that light and color robed him completely; a clothing of purity that allowed him both freedom and propriety.
Mack realized also that he felt no pain, not even in his usually aching joints. In fact, he had never felt this well, this whole. His head was clear and he breathed deeply the scents and aromas of the night and of the sleeping flowers in the garden, many of which had begun to awaken to this celebration.
Delirious and delicious joy welled up inside of him and he jumped, floating slowly up into the air; then returned gently to the ground. “So similar,” he thought, “to dream flying.”
And then Mack saw the lights. Single moving points emerging from the forest, converging upon the meadow below where he and Sarayu stood. He could see them now high up on the surrounding mountains, appearing and disappearing as they made their way toward them, down unseen paths and trails.
They broke into the meadow, an army of children. There were no candles-they themselves were lights. And within their own radiance, each was dressed in distinctive garbs that Mack imagined represented every tribe and tongue. Although he could only identify a few, it didn’t matter. These were the children of the earth, Papa’s children. They entered with quiet dignity and grace, faces full of contentment and peace, young ones holding the hands of even younger ones.
For a moment Mack wondered if Missy might be there, and although he looked for a minute, he gave up. He settled within himself that if she were, and if she wanted to run to him, she would. The children had now formed a huge circle within the meadow, with a path left open from near where Mack stood into the very center. Little bursts of fire and light, like a stadium of slow-popping flashbulbs, ignited when the children would giggle or whisper. Even though Mack had no idea what was going on, they obviously did, and the anticipation was almost too much for them.
Emerging into the clearing behind them and forming another circle of larger lights stood those whom Mack presumed were adults like himself, colorfully brilliant and yet subdued.
Suddenly, Mack’s attention was caught by an unusual motion. It appeared that one of the light beings in the outer circle was having some difficulty. Flashes and spears of violet and ivory would arch briefly into the night in their direction. As these retreated they were replaced by orchid, gold, and flaming vermillion, burning and brilliant sprays of radiance that burst out again toward them, flaming against the immediate darkness, only to subside and return to their source.
Sarayu chuckled.
“What’s going on?” Mack whispered.
“There is a man here who is having some difficulty keeping in what he is feeling.”
Whoever was struggling could not contain himself and was agitating some of the others nearby. The ripple effect was clearly visible as the flashing light extended into the surrounding ring of children. Those closest to the instigator seemed to be responding as color and light flowed from them toward him. The combinations that emerged from each were unique and seemed to Mack to contain a distinctive response to the one causing the commotion.