THE SELF AS ENEMY – THE STRANGER
From the Course in Miracles:
What is your Self remains an alien to the part of you which thinks
that it is real but different from yourself.
Who could be sane in such a circumstance? Who but a madman could believe he is what he is not, and judge against himself?
And yet how easy it would be to say,
“This is my home. Here I belong, and will not leave because a madman
says I must.” What reason is there for not saying this?
What could the reason be except that you had asked this stranger in to take your place, and let you be a stranger to yourself? No-one would let himself be dispossessed so needlessly unless he thought there was another home more suited to his tastes.
Who is the stranger? Is it fear or that is unsuited to the home which God provided for His Son? Is fear His own, created in His likeness? Is it fear that love completes and is completed by?
There is no home that can shelter love and fear.
They cannot coexist.
If you are real, then fear must be illusion. And if fear is real, then you do not exist at all.
How simply, then, the question is resolved.
A stranger to himself can find no home wherever he may look, for he has made return impossible. His way is lost except a miracle will search him out,
and show him that he is no stranger now.
The miracle will come. For in his home his Self remains. It asked no stranger in, and took no alien thought to be Itself. And It will call Its Own unto Itself, in recognition of what is Its Own.
Who is the stranger? Is he not the one your Self calls not? You are unable
now to recognize this stranger in your midst,
for you have given him your rightful place. Yet is your Self as certain of Its Own as God is of His Son. He cannot be confused about creation. He is sure of what belongs to Him. No stranger can be interposed between His knowledge and His Son’s reality.
Whom God has joined remains forever one, at home in Him,
no stranger to Himself.
Who fears has but denied himself and said, “I am the stranger here.
And so I leave my home to one more like me than myself,
and give him all I thought belonged to me.”
Now is he exiled of necessity, not knowing who he is, uncertain of all things but this; that he is not himself, and that his home has been denied to him.
What does he search for now? What can he find?
Not one does He forget. Not one He fails to give you to remember, that your home may be complete and perfect as it was established. He has not forgotten you.
But you will not remember Him until
you look on all as He does.