God’s popular saints live outside of things. Don’t feel sorry for them; they may be “outside the camp,” but they’re “inside the veil.” Why would one choose to go outside and be rejected, when all the security and acceptance was on the inside? There was nothing outside the camp but such things as the local garbage dump. To dwell there, you would be considered the filth and off-scouring of the world. But you’d be in good company, for that’s where Jesus was.
Inside was icy legalism, and a cold mechanical piety. Inside the box was a life of man-made rules and regulation. Within those four little walls, it’s more important to be externally proper, than internally pure. The “letter” is esteemed highly, but the "Spirit" holds a low place. It’s a religion without reality. Within the confines of this mortician’s paradise, He is no longer the God of the living, but of the dead.
You would think that outside the camp would be a lonely place, but how can anyone be lonely with their Lover by their side? With Him, the lion’s den becomes a lovely place; with Him, secluded Patmos becomes pleasant; and with Him, the garbage dump gives off a new aroma that’s sweet to the nostrils of any who are willing to “suffer without the gate". “Let us go forth therefore unto him without the camp, bearing his reproach”.
by an Aged Saint
Jesus said something about whitewashed tombs, great on the outside, but full of dead man’s bones. So glad Jesus’ tomb is empty.
Amen and Amen.