A mystical experience in the form of a vision shared by Lola Georg.
This vision was revealed during a guided meditation in a group setting.
The mediation was an exercise of imaging oneself in a biblical story. In this case, the story is often titled Render Unto Caesar.
In my mind’s eye, I am sitting on stone. It is hot, the sun is bright, and I am squinting with the brightness of it. I realize that the stone I am sitting upon is part of a temple. Jesus is there and he has a stick in his hand. He is aimlessly drawing figures in the sand with the stick. He is surround by many people, and I can tell that some are friends and some are foes, but I am confused as to which are which. People are asking him questions and he is answering them in a bored sort of way.
One man, dressed in fine silk robes that are beyond what I could ever afford, is flattering Jesus, who looks at him with a cocked eyebrow. “Master,” the man says, “we know you are very wise. Tell us, should we pay taxes to Caesar?” The crowd around Jesus starts to murmur, and the tension in the air rises. It feels like a trap, and I can feel the anxiety of the others around me electrify the hot, desert air.
“Give me a coin,” Jesus says, and the man obliges him. “Whose face is on this coin?”, Jesus asks. Someone from the crowd yells, “Why Caesar’s, of course!” Jesus flips the coin into the crowd and says, “Give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God.” The crowd starts to murmur more loudly, “What does he mean?”, they ask.
All of this is commotion is irrelevant to me. I move closer to Jesus, inching my way through the crowd. I get to his side, and he looks me in the eye. “What do I have to give to God?”, I ask him, trying not to return his gaze by looking down at his sand drawings. His interest is peaked. He places his hand on my chin, raises my eyes to his, and says, “the only thing you have to give to God.” My mouth is dry and I feel stupid. “What is that?” I ask. “My child,” he answers, “the only thing you have to give to God is attention. Spend time with God, in prayer, in listening, in communion. That is the only gift God asks for, and the only gift you have to offer. Your heart belongs with God.” Jesus reaches his hand skyward and my gaze follows his fingertips upwards.Then my gaze follows as Jesus guides his hand, and places it on his heart, continuing, “As we belong with God.”
I look away from him. The intensity of his gaze is too much. His attention on me is too much. And I wonder, when God has given me so much, why do I squander opportunities to give back to God?
Lola’s Reflection:
I notice in this vision a sense of dryness, heat, and perhaps a spiritual thirst in the crowd, and in myself. There are two conflicts here. The first in the form of a trickster, represented by a spiritual seeker who tries to trick Jesus into giving a wrong answer. However, Jesus turns the question back on the trickster by turning away from material concerns and towards spiritual concerns. The second conflict is an internal conflict within myself. Unlike the trickster who sought a direct answer to his question and did not get it, I received a direct answer to my question and did not necessarily like it. The question of what belongs to God, seems to be on my mind alone. Also, I am reluctant to ‘look Jesus in the eye’, which is a metaphor for telling the truth to someone, the implication of which is that if I am looking away, I am not being honest. In the end, the question I am left with is ‘am I willing to be honest with myself about where my attention lies, or about where my heart belongs?’.
Photo by Clemens van Lay on Unsplash
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