In lieu of trying to belong to any number of societies: Chesterton, Sherlock Holmes, the Inklings, and so on: I propose and establish one of my own. Don your intelligence cap at the door; dust off your logic and imagination; did you bring your inspiration and encouragement? We are shapers, my friends; lit lamps; light-bringers. Bring quotes; poetry should be uplifting and thoughtful, or witty and clever, (or both). Humor is encouraged; laughter is invited back. Pull up a chair. Anyone for tea?

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The Veil is Torn

"But he was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his stripes we are healed."
--Isaiah 53

"Not one of his bones will be broken."
--Psalm 34

"They will look on him whom they pierced."
--Zacheriah 12

R.C. Sproul Jr.
Repentance is not sorrow that He suffered but shame that I scourged Him, mocked Him, beat Him, spat on Him, crucified Him. He knew it was me.

" 'Twas I Lord Jesus, I it was denied you
I crucified You."

His death was so very real, and yet I cannot really fathom the sorrow of it, because I have never had to live a minute believing Christ was dead.
I can't imagine what it would be like to think that that was the end . . . but it was only the beginning.

“But the Lord was pleased To crush Him, putting Him to grief.”
“He was crushed for our iniquities.” 

"Your death of anguish and Your bitter passion
For my salvation"

There is no hope but in that cruel death.  And so the cross is beautiful to those who know the One who suffered there.

Oh death where is your sting?
at

1 comment:

Kat said...

Thanks be to God for the cross!

April 25, 2011 at 7:11 PM

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