He has descended to the very bottom, and He has come back up with the keys. In Him, everything holds together. It is finished.
Yet it is not done.
Between the "finished" and the "see, I make all things new" lies a strange span of time, the time in which we live. The great battle has been fought and the outcome is settled, but the trumpet has not yet sounded. It is like the moment between the lightning and the thunder: you have already seen the light, and you count, and you wait for the sound that must come.
In that moment we stand, no longer in the night before the cross and not yet in the morning of the wedding. In between, with the promise in hand and the fulfillment on the horizon.
Empty, this time is not. It looks like a waiting room, but the Host is already there, and the door to the banquet hall stands ajar. The world thinks it will stay quiet. All creation is holding its breath.
A child who stands counting at the window after the lightning, nose against the glass, does not know on which count the thunder will come. The child knows that it will.
He has descended to the very bottom, and He has come back up with the keys. In Him, everything holds together. It is finished.
Yet it is not done.
Between the "finished" and the "see, I make all things new" lies a strange span of time, the time in which we live. The great battle has been fought and the outcome is settled, but the trumpet has not yet sounded. It is like the moment between the lightning and the thunder: you have already seen the light, and you count, and you wait for the sound that must come.
In that moment we stand, no longer in the night before the cross and not yet in the morning of the wedding. In between, with the promise in hand and the fulfillment on the horizon.
Empty, this time is not. It looks like a waiting room, but the Host is already there, and the door to the banquet hall stands ajar. The world thinks it will stay quiet. All creation is holding its breath.
A child who stands counting at the window after the lightning, nose against the glass, does not know on which count the thunder will come. The child knows that it will.