“Lift the Stone, and You Will Find Me There”: The Mystical Heart of Logion 77 from the Gospel of Thomas

March 23, 2025

“Lift the Stone, and You Will Find Me There”: The Mystical Heart of Logion 77 from the Gospel of Thomas

“Split a piece of wood, and I am there. Lift up the stone, and you will find me there.”
— Gospel of Thomas, Logion 77

Introduction: The Divine Hidden in the Mundane

There is something powerfully subversive about the words of Jesus in this ancient Gnostic text. He doesn’t point to temples, mountaintops, or secret rituals to find Him. Instead, He whispers to us from the everyday: from the wood you split to make a fire, from the stone you lift while clearing a path.
He’s not in the next life—He’s in this moment.

And isn't that what all mystics ultimately tell us? That the sacred is not separate from the ordinary—it’s hidden within it, like treasure buried in a field.

In this post, we’ll explore the metaphysical, mystical, and spiritual dimensions of Logion 77 from the Gospel of Thomas, a deeply contemplative gospel that brings us face to face with the mystery of Divine Presence in all things.

What Is the Gospel of Thomas?

Let’s start with a little background. The Gospel of Thomas is part of the Nag Hammadi library discovered in 1945 in Egypt. It’s a collection of 114 sayings attributed to Jesus, often called “logia.” Unlike the canonical gospels, it contains no miracles, no passion narrative, no resurrection. Instead, it invites us to discover the Living Christ through gnosis—inner, experiential knowledge.

It’s believed that this gospel reflects an early mystical Christianity, closer to what many would call contemplative, Gnostic, or esoteric teachings. For seekers, spiritual wanderers, and mystics like us—it offers profound insights beyond dogma.

And Logion 77 is a shining jewel among them.

1. “Split a piece of wood”—Seeing the Sacred in the Ordinary

At face value, this statement is disarmingly simple. But spiritually, it is revolutionary.

To "split a piece of wood" or "lift a stone" are mundane, earthy tasks—manual labor, often dirty and overlooked. But here, Jesus tells us that He is present in these actions. Not just metaphorically, but in an embodied way.

The Hidden Message:

The divine doesn’t reside only in temples or scriptures but is immanent—woven into every fiber of creation. This echoes the ancient Hebrew idea of God’s shekinah (indwelling presence), and in Eastern traditions, we find similar themes in Advaita Vedanta and Buddhism—that the Absolute is found in the Now, not in another world or afterlife.

A Real-Life Reflection:

One of my clients, a single mom, told me how her most powerful spiritual moments come while washing dishes after a long day. She said, “It’s like when my hands are in the water, I finally come home to myself.” She had lifted the stone. Split the wood. And there, the Divine smiled back at her.

2. The Gnostic Perspective: Waking Up to the Divine Within

Gnosticism teaches that the material world is not evil, but that our perception is veiled. When Jesus says “I am there,” He is pointing to the Christ consciousness—the Divine Light present in all things, waiting to be recognized.

In Gnostic thought, salvation isn't about escape; it's about awakening.

You don’t need to travel to Jerusalem or meditate on a mountain for 40 days. You need to become aware—deeply and radically present.

"The Kingdom is within you and around you, but you do not see it," says another Logion (Thomas 113).

The Divine is not far—it is hidden in plain sight.

3. A Kabbalistic Parallel: Divine Sparks in Everything

In Jewish Kabbalah, there’s a beautiful idea called Tikkun Olam—the healing or restoration of the world. According to this teaching, when the world was created, Divine Light was scattered and trapped in the material world. These are called nitzotzot—sparks of holiness hidden in the most unlikely places.

Our spiritual task is to “lift the stone” and liberate those sparks—by seeing, blessing, and elevating the sacred in the everyday.

Just like Thomas’ Jesus, the Kabbalists whisper: God is not far. God is here. And you are the key to revealing that Light.

4. From Buddhism to Stoicism: Awareness Is the Key

This teaching echoes across traditions:

In Zen Buddhism, monks are taught to approach every act—sweeping the floor, lighting incense, making tea—with total presence. They call it mindfulness, but it’s the same energy.
In Stoicism, the great thinkers believed that logos—the Divine Reason—permeates all things. The wise person aligns with this through awareness and acceptance.
In Sufism, the mystic Jalaluddin Rumi writes: “Don’t seek God in temples. He’s right here in your heart.”

It’s not about the action—it’s about how we are in the action.

5. Lifting the Stone in Your Own Life: A Spiritual Practice

This logion invites us into embodied spirituality. It’s not abstract—it’s practical.

So how do we actually “lift the stone” or “split the wood” in our lives?

Here are some powerful ways:

a. Mindful Moments

Next time you’re washing dishes, cooking, sweeping, or walking—stop for a moment. Breathe. Feel the water, the motion, the presence of your body. And whisper: “You are here.”

b. Sacred Blessing Ritual

Before starting your workday, place your hand on your laptop or your tools and say: “This too is holy.” You’re blessing your stone. You’re lifting it.

c. Nature Walk Meditation

Go outside. Pick up a stone. Hold it. Feel its weight, texture, and silence. Ask, “What does this teach me?” You may hear a whisper from the deeper world.

d. Journaling Prompt

Where have I encountered the Divine in unexpected places this week? What did it reveal about Presence?

6. Lifting the Stone of Inner Shadow

On a deeper level, "lifting the stone" can also mean facing what we’ve buried inside ourselves—old pain, limiting beliefs, suppressed emotions.

When we dare to lift those inner stones, we often find something unexpected: not darkness—but Presence. God is even there.

I once coached a man who was deeply afraid to explore his estranged relationship with his father. But as he lifted that inner stone, he didn’t find shame or pain alone—he found clarity, compassion, and a deeper sense of God’s presence in the wound.

The Divine is not scared of our darkness. It waits there. Quietly. Until we’re ready to lift the stone.

7. What If We Truly Lived This Way?

Imagine for a moment if you really believed Jesus was under the next stone. That God was in your dog’s eyes, your neighbor’s complaint, your morning cup of coffee.

How would you live differently?

Would you speak more kindly? Listen more attentively? Would you bring reverence into your routines?

This isn’t theory. This is the invitation.

8. The Christ in All: A Vision for Unity

At its core, this logion points us to non-duality. There is no sacred vs. secular, no God vs. world. It’s all one.

As St. Paul said in Acts 17:28, “In Him we live and move and have our being.”

Or as Teilhard de Chardin, the Jesuit mystic, wrote:
“Christ has a cosmic body that extends throughout the universe.”

When we realize this, every moment becomes a sanctuary. Every face becomes a doorway. Every stone becomes a sacrament.

Conclusion: The Stillness Beneath the Stone

So, dear friend—dear reader—dear fellow pilgrim: where is the Christ right now in your life?

Don’t look too far. He’s in the stone. He’s in the wood. He’s in your next breath.
He waits not in clouds of glory, but in the quiet hum of now.

The mystical path doesn’t take us away from life—it brings us deeper into it.

It teaches us to lift the stone with holy hands. To see with clear eyes. To live as if everything matters, because—in the sacred economy of love—it does.

Final Integration Tools for Your Week

Affirmation:
“I walk through this world with awakened eyes. The Divine is in all, and I am never alone.”

Breath Prayer:
Inhale: “Here you are…”
Exhale: “…in this moment.”

Call to Action:
This week, find one mundane task—folding laundry, driving, washing up—and treat it as a sacred act. Journal afterward: what did you notice?

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