Some Words

A petrified example of a modern conundrum lies within a slue of countless epitaphs. The statistics continue to pile up until you have books. After books we progress onto volumes. Box sets and collectors editions as well; sold at a bargain price in order to collect dust in a library as the owner totes their ownership in sophisticated conversation propping their ego among their peers. Hard copies are so wonderful to get hold of. The numbers pile up as the kill count rises. The news at ten will show it unless you happen to catch the nineteen commercials during the Simpsons, that way you can know before anyone else and let concern wrought your face. Nameless and faceless, yet they demand our attention ever so much. Maybe it is a comfort that we are alive, perhaps it is a dulling contentment knowing that not all the bad things in the world happen to us, and to others it is a tragedy quickly remedied by Friends re-runs and a case of Diet Coke®.
What have we become? Has blood become so dispensable that if a death is not gruesome enough then it isn’t worth any attention. The streets are littered with our malcontent as well as posters and pop up ads alike. The frivolity of humanity dances along in a Meow Mix commercial with all the subtlety of moss in a redwood forest. Yet onward we move. Life goes on a grief is ignored as weakness and the cycle begins anew. This is a society far detached from its own existence. We are made to feed. Born, bred and raised to consume to fix that pain that gnaws away, anything to make the voices stop and anything to bring a little bit of solace.
This isn’t to say that it is a new thing but lets be honest for a second, when have we had so many numbing agents so rapidly available for our consumption. We move on with the sands of time ignoring history while brashly stating, “Those who forget history are condemned to repeat it.” What is there to offer anymore? What is there to gain in the never ending hierarchy of thought, conjecture, promise, and delight? There is nothing new under the sun as with a single bullet or a single car wreck all that was ever gained perishes if not moves down to the descendents.
Branching out into the insipid the disdain of actuality strikes the masses as nonsense where inside is there birthing a hope that somehow inside there can be a breech of duality in which we all have our own secret Tyler Durden. Of course there is no contentment, we have no knowledge of what being is. We have come to a place in which we do and we perceive what we can and go from past assumptions scraping by to find their due. We grow up as victims there has to be some way to get vindication. Years of mistreatment and pain squelched into a malaise of bitterness begins to seep inside. We are owed something right, where is the justice. Thirty-three dead, this is the triumph of the will. What is consequence and what is justice? Who even has language anymore holding a line of obscurity demanding the line be held with utter fervor.
The hangman is calling and the law is becoming a thing of the past. Presumption courses through the veins of the obsolete yet one thing betas true, we can achieve nothing. Who can straighten that which God has made crooked and who can fix that which God has bent. Given over to the divine hammer we become formed and fashioned after our own liking. He is the potter and we are the clay. The brittle and the cracked have melded together into a defiant cry for certainty.
There is one. Only one man who can bring justice. He saw and was displeased that there was no justice. He made the rebels for a kingdom not made by human hands, one filled with joy, peace, wholeness, and tranquility. Yet they rage in ignorance and in full knowledge. Apart from this kingdom there is only death and obsoletion. From His throne flows a river which brings life to that which is dead and whose trees bear the fruit of life and whose leaves hold healing for the nations. At this throne does the justice flow and from none other. The foundation of this throne are righteousness and justice and from it floes mercy like a raging torrent.
Speak of revolution and I will show you 10 million dead alongside the grave of Che Guevara. This is no revolution, this is a siege. A clash of empires vying for dominance. The two will be revealed and death and Hades will follow. Marching into some glorious sunset will decadence burn up.
Wisdom and truth call forth with the violence of love calling the vile to enter into their home. Invisibility warps the mindset as fear has come as a proper diet for far too long now. The kingdom advances and the violent take it by force. Yet ignored goes forth the orgy of defiance. Heaven calls forth as voices begin to pipe up. Negotiations were thrown out the window years ago as Death was nailed to a rugged piece of wood. Lines drawn in the sand are no being redone in wet concrete and an era begins to dawn. The kingdom of heaven breathes life and rest onto its warriors hidden in the cleft of love. The battle will soon break out from skirmish and a highway will be paved with blood. They will overcome by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony loving their lives not unto death. Joy is their strength and life is the product. Fear has died in their eyes as boldness grips the depths of compassion.
There will be a day when there is no pain. There will be a day when sorrow will cease. There will be a day when no longer war will be studied. There will be a day in which the child plays with the cobra and the lion lays with the lamb. There will be a day of peace. There is only one who is righteous and there is only one who is worthy to open the scroll. It will be opened and lawlessness shall end. The increase of His government and peace shall know no end from ocean floor to distant stars. Cling to hope for redemption draws nigh, let us lay aside the vices of the contemporary and put to death the cocaine of humanism and enter fully into His glorious love and through abundance of joyously given grace enter into the life wrapped deep inside the jubilant dance of the Triune song. Put to death the former things and enter into the glorious dawn of the new day. Christ is the only way.