(Find the first part here)

I felt as though I had been crucified. My bones were left out of joint, and a great wound had pierced my heart at the mere glance and a few words from the man called Truth. I lay in the dirt, and the vines which had arched themselves about me when I was cast headlong through the foliage at the mighty blast of his nostrils.

And these things were accomplished for that I was as the ground in which Truth had planted a seed; for the earth must first be rent with a trowel before ever the seed could be deposited. And now within the wound of my heart, the words which had spoken, which shook the bones from their joints had also left a deposit seated at the painful base of my wound.

T’was the seed of Truth, and harder than stone, the point of its almond shape stabbed sharply, and I cast mine eyes (not the eyes of my flesh, but that place which is called the mind’s eye) into the wound of my heart to see this seed. Multi-faceted, yet clearer than crystal, hued with blue; the blood of my wound cascaded over its face. But oh! When shall this thing sprout within me, and how ever shall my changeable flesh survive at the growth of the rigid truth?

Take it out! Lest it slowly and painfully destroy my flesh! How ever on earth could a man endure the growth of the seed of Truth within him? And still his words hummed their echo within my bones: “WHAT YOU SEEK WILL KILL YOU.”

Turning my eyes inward again to perceive the seed, I looked past the blood of mine own suffering, and gazed into the clear almond shape. And I found that the seed was an eye, not the mind’s eye by which I peered into myself – but an eye able to see all things eternal; only those with the seed of Truth in themselves have the eye – for the eye is the seed. Would that all men were born again, and looked at all things with only this eye for:

The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.

And so I saw, as I looked through the eye of Truth, that I was not here in some foliaged vale, but rather was hanging the Man of Truth; I had indeed, been crucified, as he had been one day so many years hence. I could see no further than the taunting crowds before me who mocked and jeered as I hung with the Son of Man upon a rugged wooden cross; our bones all out of joint, and our tongues cleaving to the rooves of our mouths, and we utterly forsaken.

What did I see as I gazed into the seed that now was planted within me? I saw the singular moment of Truth to which all of history, and future points, for there was one moment of time to which all of humanity has been intimately tied forever: when the Rock of Ages became, Himself, a man – the Son of Man, and took the place of the wicked in death. Truth ought not to hang from a cursed tree – but liars, murderers and thieves. Fret not you sinner – for you may hang in death with Him; please do so, or you shall surely hang in death without Him – to your eternal ruin.

This is the sacrifice – the seed of Truth. This crucifixion is the eternal starting place for man, and as every man will confront, or be confronted with the man called Truth, so only those who receive his seed will survive.

And now I knew why the man named Truth stood in the form, and shape of a tree:

From the first Adam to the last, every man’s destiny is found at the foot of a tree.

I am crucified with Christ: nevertheless I live; yet not I, but Christ liveth in me: and the life which I now live in the flesh, I live by the faith of the Son of God who loved me, and gave himself for me.

And now the decision was verily set before me, shall I receive, and allow this seed, or reach down within, and pluck it up from me?

For now I know that it shall grow: the germ within He gave –

…as if a man should cast seed into the ground; and should sleep and rise night and day, and the seed should spring and grow up, he knoweth not how. For the earth bringeth forth fruit of herself; first the blade, then the ear, after that the full corn in the ear. But when the fruit is brought forth, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the harvest is come.

And as it grows, my flesh, my life, my very soul shall be put aside for it, and it will be Truth mercilessly springing up within me – sending down its roots, and up its blade; for the seed, like the man named Truth – his hard and unforgivingly rigid form will push all out of its way, piercing slowly through my flesh and soul as it grows.

I drew from my scabbard the sword I had brought – in the habitations of man this sword was of strength, and with it I had waged, and won many battles – striking through the simple, and the learned. Yet in the home of Truth – this lush and growing vale – this sword was but a flimsy reed. Its name was Opinion, and I could see now there was no damage it could ever inflict on Truth; using it here would be as striking a great stone with a blade of limp grass.

Yet Opinion still holds strength upon me (as it ever does upon the souls of man – and it remains a deadly weapon, for although it has no power over Truth, many men, women and children of the sons of men are its perpetual victims, and hacked quite to pieces with it most anywhere it is found to be in use). With it I could stab down through the wound of Truth’s gaze, and pluck out his seed. Yes, Opinion had such strength over me that though I lay in Truth’s home, and had also even perceived his person… and further, received his seed; still it had the power to remove the truth utterly away from me (I would then be found in quite a different land).

“No!” I heard my own voice defend, “I shall not take my own life!” For I perceived that I had died, and been born anew in the faith of Christ. This seed – though an entirely new creation – was my very life. And I cast that sword Opinion out of my hand. As it landed on the ground of Truth, immediately it withered, and a flame quite licked it up as though the whole ground were burning with invisible fire ready to be revealed the moment a carnal device was found. The sword burned instantly to ash before me, and drifted away. Yet I looked down at my scabbard, and there again, a new Opinion had immediately formed. So shall I for the rest of my days be casting this to the earth – as every disciple of Truth must do.

It had been some great amount of time until I was able to recover myself from the blow of mighty Truth who continued to stand, unchanging – just as he had ever done from the dawn of time, and would ever go on doing long after my memory was forgotten. I was slowly coming to grips with him, and graciously, so graciously, he revealed only as much of himself as I could endure to perceive; this not because he bore any regard for me – for Truth cares not if we believe him – but doubtless because:

…a living dog is better than a dead lion. For the living know that they shall die, but the dead know not anything, neither do they have any more reward; for the memory of them is forgotten. Also their love and their hatred, and their envy is now perished; neither have they any more a portion forever in anything that is done under the sun.

And so when I was finally able to right myself, there stood Truth just as ever he had been. And already was I weary of him, for he is a plain and simple man, never moving from the place where he stands, never seeking attention or affection, never sporting nor vaunting himself, for he cares not whether he’s seen.  A man is allowed to love him, but he will never play the flirt or seek their affection. So my fellowship with him was to be a game within my soul of my dancing about as he stood motionless.

I, like a child, have feelings, play games think idle thoughts and sing songs of frivolity. But Truth does none of these things, and idleness is far from him, nor does he care what I think, or how I feel. Truth will not change… is not changeable. I must change in the revelation of Truth, must become like Truth to be in communion with him.

Part III