William-Adolphe Bouguereau (1825-1905) – The Flagellation of Our Lord Jesus Christ (1880) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
“Curb the animal within your tainted heart. Oh, I see that can’t be done. Sorry to have bothered you.”
I wake to find myself amazed.
The plight of man surges up like a wild rogue wave.
against a determined crew.
Mindlessly, endlessly, remorselessly, we search
for what is secure in our own little berth.
Attacking, defending, accusing, for what?
Hideous folly attends our earth bound thoughts. And in our frustration we reach for the most firm item in our rotting little minds. Wielding it like a mob of mad men, we thrash at one another.
Some one of us has a lucid moment and yells “STOP!” All the crazed people cease in mid-swing. Spit, blood and dust flutter to the ground. A wicked silence ensues. And they all listen to words spoken, too late and untimely.
“This is religion we’re swingin around!
Just look at the blood that covers the ground!
Is this truly the best we can do;
to kill one another with He who is true?”
The ceasing remains for a couple more breaths.
Then back comes the hitting, the gouging and stabbing of chest.
Hopelessly man is locked in minds of singular thought. We make our way through a morass of unknown futures. And we, too reliably, resort to violence of every form to do what we call survive. Worse than that, we justify ourselves by calling down “TRUTH FROM HEAVEN”.
There are but two repairs to this seemingly endless dance of stupidity. Each repair is useful only to the individual. One is sure yet not recommended by any. The other is sure yet few give it full application.
The least profitable repair is death. If you wait patiently it will come to you on its own. But likely as not some one will be willing to go fetch it for you.
Death brings silence and a sort of peace. But it fails to deliver release from the central problem of “a valueless life”. And once applied it cannot be undone. (Sticky lil bugger, ain’t it.)
The best is to die to self. We will find this in its full when we surrender to the Lord Jesus. We will continue in this place of folly, but we will come to know how to stop bashing others. Only in Him can this madness cease. Yet His repair is not designed to cover the masses. One by one we lay down our desires. And the culmination of His work appears in an entirely different place. There, a great throng of mentally vibrant folk will live out eternity void of the familiar bashing.
I wrote as the one who called attention to the childish nature of our filthy mob. I do not think it will have the effect of stopping more than two, let alone the world. Still, I have written what my mind saw. We will see what comes.
By His Grace.