One Thing 4/6/12

The Great Prince driven by divine madness throws Himself on the altar of sacrifice, for the sake of His promised, yet condemned bride, releasing her forever from her guilt and shame, and demonstrating before the whole world, and in her eyes, a love that has never been seen before, but only told about in stories passed down from generation to generation.
This Holy Altar, where The Love Story, from which all other love stories find their origin and hope, is played out in heartbreaking, and heartthrobing drama on the stage of every Eucharist, viewed by Heaven and Earth. Each time the thronging audience watches in breathtaking wonder and worship as if for the first time. During Holy Week the stage seems bigger; the scenes, and sounds more vivid, and the audience so much larger. Today, the Great Play reaches a crescendo of such remarkable, and heart shattering, yet heart liberating proportions, that the audience is left weeping, in sorrow, and hope that such a love even existed, and could ever be theirs. The look on His face when He plunged Himself on the altar, had seemed to be one not just of anguish, but of joy and desperation. There was a sense of satisfaction, and longing about Him. The enormous audience, gasps, openly weeps, and instantly worships with shouts in response to love such as this. At that powerful moment what has just happened settles in to the heart of the audience. Alll seems won, yet all seems now lost, for the Great Prince is gone forever. Hope is both restored and lost in one scene. Such love revealed, yet never realized, for He is gone. As the stage darkens and the confused, and frightened audience (frightened, because having seen such love demonstrated, it’s possible that they may be left forever with only a memory and a hope, that was only a thought, a dream) begins to slowly leave when someone cries out “Don’t leave. Look, it’s not over.” As the departing crowd stops, and turns and looks back at the stage, it’s true, in the midst of the darkened stage there is activity; something is still happening. The audience, still stirred to its very core, settles back down, and collectively wonders, (almost out loud) “What could ever come next; What could possibly be left unsaid. Didn’t He with that haunting look of thirst on His face cry out IT IS FINISHED. What could possibly, possibly happen now.”

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