Doug Blair ADMIN II
CCW GOLD MEMBER POETRY CONTEST WINNER Posts : 644 Age : 73 Join date : 2013-02-03 Location : Waterloo, Ontario, Canada
| Subject: Down Those Aisles Tue Aug 11, 2015 11:22 am | |
| The man said come. “Come from the balcony down onto this field. We will wait for you. Christ has been waiting for you. Other people can listen to our singers. You have business to conduct. Important business. Unfinished business. Eternity longs to embrace you. Come. Come to Christ.” And with that he put his hands behind his back and lowered his head. Doubtless he was praying. He had said all that he was meant to say. The holy moment was now God’s…and I felt it directly. I wasn’t crying. Nope not me, but there was this tremendous aching lump in the throat. To realize that men, positioned men could be so cruel to incarnate Goodness, and that He would submit to it, pleading “Father, forgive.” And then die. It seemed wrong. Devilishly wrong, and every sneer that I had registered against religion, against a “bloody” faith, against the very idea of holiness coming down, seemed to race before my inner eye. And I shuddered. There was something I could do. Would do. And I wasn’t to climb dozens of steps upon my knees, or to allow the lash across my back, or to fast in some cold cavern for weeks. It was simply to walk down the aisles as the man had suggested to the place where spotlights lit the field and dazzled the eyes. Friendly people all around constituting no barricade or handicap. There was a flow to it all. A joy and relief, even in those evidently crying. In some surreal way we all knew that Jesus was at the end of that walk; that it was unquestionably a time of destiny and relief and reconciliation. Jesus still paying, still pleading, still promising as we reaped an incomparable treasure, praying to close the deal, like children, thankful children. |
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