THE SECRET of SPIRITUAL
AUTHORITY
A.W Tozer
The world is
perishing for lack of the knowledge of God and the Church is famishing for want
of His Presence. The instant cure of most of our religious ills would be to
enter the Presence in spiritual experience, to become suddenly aware that we
are in God and that God is in us. This would lift us out of our pitiful narrowness
and cause our hearts to be enlarged. This would burn away the impurities from
our lives as the bugs and fungi were burned away by the fire that dwelt in the
bush...
Hearts that are "fit to break" with love for the Godhead are those who
have been in the Presence and have looked with opened eye upon the majesty of
Deity. Men of the breaking hearts had a quality about them not known to or
understood by common men. They habitually spoke with spiritual authority. They
had been in the Presence of God and they reported what they saw there. They
were prophets, riot scribes, for the scribe tells us what he has read, and the
prophet tells what he has seen.
The distinction is not an imaginary one. Between the scribe who has read and
the prophet who has seen there is a difference as wide as the sea. We are today
overrun with orthodox scribes, but the prophets, where are they? The hard voice
of the scribe sounds over evangelicalism, but the Church waits for the tender
voice of the saint who has penetrated the veil and has gazed with inward eye
upon the Wonder that is God. And yet, thus to penetrate, to push in sensitive
living experience into the holy Presence, is a privilege open to every child of
God.
With the veil removed by the rending of Jesus' flesh, with nothing on God's
side to prevent us from entering, why do we tarry without? Why do we consent to
abide all our days just outside the Holy of Holies and never enter at all to
look upon God? We hear the Bridegroom say, "Let me see thy countenance,
let me hear thy voice; for sweet is thy voice and thy countenance is
comely." We sense that the call is for us, but still we fail to draw near,
and the years pass and
we grow old and tired in the outer courts of the tabernacle. What doth hinder
us?
The answer usually given, simply that we are "cold," will not explain
all the facts. There is something more serious than coldness of heart,
something that may be back of that coldness and be the cause of its existence.
What is it? What but the presence of a veil in our hearts? a
veil not taken away as the first veil was, but which remains there still
shutting out the light and hiding the face of God from us. It is the veil of
our fleshly fallen nature living on, unjudged within us, uncrucified
and unrepudiated. It is the closewoven
veil of the self-life which we have never truly acknowledged, of which we have
been secretly ashamed, and which for these reasons we have never brought to the
judgment of the cross. It is not too mysterious, this opaque
veil, nor is it hard to identify. We have but to look in our own hearts
and we shall see it there, sewn and patched and repaired it may be, but there
nevertheless, an enemy to our lives and an effective block to our spiritual
progress...
Self is the opaque veil that hides the face of God from us. It can be removed
only in spiritual experience, never by mere instruction. We dare not rest
content with a neat doctrine of self-crucifixion. That is to imitate Saul and
spare the best of the sheep and the oxen. We must invite the cross to do its deadly
work within us. We must bring our self-sins to the cross
for judgement. It is never fun to die. To rip through the dear and tender stuff
of which life is made can never be anything but deeply painful. Yet that is
what the cross did to Jesus and it is what the cross would do to every man to set
him free. The cross is rough and it is deadly, but it is effective. It does not
keep its victim hanging there forever. There comes a moment when its work is
finished and the suffering victim dies. After that is resurrection glory and
power, and the pain is forgotten for the joy that that veil is taken away and
we have entered, in actual spiritual experience, the
Presence of the Living God.
From "The Pursuit of
God"