The Foggy End

I walked out my back door this morning to take out the trash. The alley behind my house, which leads to the park, and the whole of my neighborhood, lay hidden in fog.

Looking down a road and not seeing the end really hit me in a funny way this time.

Sure the weekend was Easter weekend, sure Good Friday was sobering, sure things didn’t go how I hoped they would, and sure I wish they would’ve.

But still looking down an alley and fog obscuring the view made me think, “Huh, nice picture of life,” but more so, nice picture of the Christian’s life.

We know where we’re going, that way; we know it’s not going to be easy; but we know it’s well worth it.

In the end will we look back over our lives and be able to see the beginning? Or will it just be covered in fog too? I bet it is, cause when two weeks feels like forever there’s no way to, “look back over life,” cause I’d cheapen it by having forgotten most of it.

Looking to the end, that Reward all covered in fog. That’s an adventure worth living.

Altar of Propitiation

Today is the day we celebrate and remember a death.

Today is the day we fight to see clearly.

Today is the day we remember blood and gore.

Today we look at brutality and murder.

Today we look at lying and slander.

Today we look at our own hands covered in blood.

Today our hearts are pure.

Flogged, to the point of unrecognizable. Nailed to a piece of wood like a hunk of meat. Left to die in agony. This is the scene of salvation.

It’s not beautiful. It’s dirty.

It’s not cute. It’s hideous.

You don’t want to hug it.

You don’t want it on your carpet.

Yet it is the supreme center of all of our reality. Hope of all our lives. The salvation of our souls.

It’s more important than our clothes, and more impactful than our friends. It’s more gorgeous than the stars, and more empowering than positive thinking.

While breaking it makes whole.

While turning upside down it turns us right side up.

While making us weep it makes us laugh.

While showing our failure it shows us our righteousness.

Here, on the Alter of Propitiation, the Lamb is slaughtered. All his blood is poured out until his veins run dry. Everything he ever was, all his perfection and goodness is extravagantly spilled to assuage the right wrath against sin.

Messiah, the longed for Deliverer.

Christ, the coming King.

Jesus, the Son of God.

Today, he is publically portrayed as crucified.