Hatred cast its eyes on Him— scheming minds of threatened men, armed with lies and aimed to kill. (Anything for glory!) They led Him like a thief to trial, bound Him like a lamb for slaughter. He bowed His head and bent His knee but not to them. The devil, man, and death together mocked […]
Read more "The Conqueror"I. Death loomed large the great triumphant and eagerly its maw opened up for Jesus. II. Death slept well in silent sureness snoring sound on bones three days since eating Jesus. III. Death woke shocked, a guard embarrassed snapped like iron bars. Jesus walked away…triumphant. – – – Photo by Jonny Gios on Unsplash
Read more "Three Days"Why did He die hanging there against the sky? The evil witness stood and lied, Peter swore, and trice denied. Why did Jesus die? – Why was He torn for crimes He never once had worn? The crush and pierce of razor thorns He bore amid the sins and scorns. Why was Jesus torn? – […]
Read more "Why?"Take heart, dear souls, you exiles of the Fall and banished from God’s presence by your sins! The Lord has stretched out His almighty arm— salvation’s Word resounding from the throne, declared in muted tones for human ears, His spitting image put to fragile flesh. The Son has taken up the Father’s will and borne […]
Read more "The Arm of the LORD"it was very dark so trees reared up like monster men with mouths that gaped—in giant maws but dark. and close. and stark. – the night was starbled bright! a legion full of many men like scuttering roaches in the light and sticks and staves and might. – “Jesus come, step near.” the ringing call […]
Read more "It Was Very Dark"What was it like to wash the feet of sarcastic Thomas? Or hear bombastic Peter claim, by withholding, his superiority? Or what to smell the earthy mix of sweat and dirty toes while awkward glances flitted round? Or what to wash the traitor’s feet? Did he pull back or full extend, eagerer than anyone to […]
Read more "What Was It Like?"Long like thought, the water swirls. Deep the flow of life and death. Deep his thoughts, where Pilate sits in steaming mirror circles round. – Deep the flow of life and death. Deeper still the war inside. In steaming mirror circles round, he hears the spittled screams and shouts. – Deeper still the war inside […]
Read more "If Only…"Long the war had torn the world apart with souls the casualties and souls the cause. The enemy ensconced and great in art made war the hope, and hopeless doom the laws. Silent lay the prophets’ dusty truths that glittered once like lanterns in a mine. The wise men slept in silence while the youths […]
Read more "The Man"Here at crimson dawn he prays, the sounds of morning, futures near. Beside, a honeysuckle’s curled like serpentine around a pole as far away a restless chaos rides the breeze. – Low, a patterned spokenness: rising pleas and murmured, earnest prayer. A form in quiet conversation lone. Just away, a vineyard tower, Tended by the […]
Read more "Sunday Morning"You think too highly of yourself, oh mind, to answer questions God as yet has not. It is a wisdom of the baser kind that storms His silence with unbridled thought— for who can cypher symbols from the dark or wrangle possibility to stage, to poke and prod and deftly pin the arc of Spring’s […]
Read more "Pseudo-wisdom"
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