Two pictures:
one a lighthouse;
beacon, warning,
example, guide.
the other a mirrored image,
shrouded in shadow,
exposing false lights
and deeds of oppression
heaped like fermenting laundry
in a windowless room.
Trusting
- the might of armies
and glittering steel,
- the undertow of
popularity,
- the tangible thrills
and momentary amusements
that distract and
tantalize -
will leave you bankrupt,
hollow.
But tough love lets you go
after what you hunger for;
you will grasp your heart's desire
and find it sizzles your fingers,
scorching flesh.
When you are ready
to come home,
one will lead you
over earthly miles
and One will
span the impossible divide
between you and the God
you have spurned.
Sing at the goodness
of your Creator
whose servant will suffer
on your behalf.
Sing! Rejoice!
For your offspring
will multiply
and you will be
beautiful
in the Bridegroom's eyes -
look how He adores you
and sing.
Though you bear the scars
and twisted tangle
of errant choices
and though you waver
even now to take
the extended hand,
just meet His eyes -
see His invitation
and step into
the dance.
Nazarene nobody and yet
coming king
enters the thronged city -
occupied by conquerors
on a night of freedom parties.
Suspicion and mystery
cloak His humble shoulders,
this raiser of the dead -
"how dare he?"
The lamb of God comes
on Lamb Day
and chooses His route
as carefully as etching
on stone the connections
to prophecies
and long-held expectations.
Air explodes like
fireworks
as enemies and
participants alike
read the signs (and respond
accordingly).
Yet it is only a dirty figure
on a filthy donkey
who stirs up such a cloud
of dust and furor.
Examine Him closely,
see how He blossoms
through choosing well
His words and deeds.
He will ultimately defeat Death
and be lifted upon a pedestal
to be worshiped in holiness
and honor;
all will see the resemblance -
like Father, like Son.
He stuns kingdoms
by His sacrifice and
transformation -
their mouths gape in
wordless wonderment.
His death will generate
a legacy of children
yet unborn
and He will open the way
for God's plan
to propagate.
In His agony
He will open His eyes
to see triumph envelop
the years and
rescue generations.
Multitudes will be gathered,
faces upturned
to catch the gentle light
shining from
tortured eyes.
Frayed robes and all,
King and nobody -
divine and mortal...
consider Him.
Consider His offer:
to lay down your rights
for a taste of true liberation;
to give to receive;
to live open-handed
that glory may come down
and filter through your fingers -
flick them freely
and watch the sparkles
spawn.
Flawed and fractured,
splintered and stained -
our best efforts laughably
inadequate;
Climbing upon backs
of the fallen,
we destroy with every step
we take
and all we touch
crumbles to talc...
It is a bleak view,
one easy to obsess on,
where many
see no way
out.
Though you have been sent away,
yet I will call you home.
You will travel across
physical miles
led by a mere man
to your earthly home.
One day I will send One greater
to bring your hearts finally home.
He will come from among you,
yet He will outshine all
in wisdom and kindness.
He will clothe himself in your shame,
willingly wearing disrespect
and humiliation in public view;
He will submit Himself to torture
and abuse, debased and neglected,
as one of zero value;
He will accept the punishment
for your brokenness and wicked deeds,
lashed for your disobedience,
reprimanded for your rebellion.
He will bring a full-bodied peace,
beyond your ability to comprehend;
He will bring wellness to body
and soul - smoothing eruptions
of flesh and staunching errant
blood flows,
a doctor of divine intent;
and He will bring the Way
across the vast divide
between you and I,
the bridge to leap the chasm
of sin and death
finally and forever.
It is a done deal,
sealed in stone
and lit
by the rosy pink dawn
of a future day.
The outcast, the ashamed,
those overcome with guilt
at their own shortcomings,
all who seek
the suffering Servant
will find Him
in Christ -
our atonement,
our way
home.
