Saturday, July 21, 2012

Come, Lord Jesus

Jn 1:4 In him was life, and that life was the light of men.
Jn 1:5 The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.

Rev 22:20 He who testifies to these things says, “Yes, I am coming soon.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

In the San Luis valley of southern Colorado is one of my favorite places on this planet to be. It’s an old local mission that years ago was turned into a sort of shrine, where folks come from all over to pray. It is so holy to me. Along a rocky path across a hilltop called La Mesa de la Piedad y de la Misericordia (which means the Hill of Piety and Mercy) are a series of statues made as the Stations of the Cross.

Minus whatever breeze is blowing, it is very quiet here. I’m not sure anyone with a level of maturity can walk the path and not be moved to silence… whether it’s for reasons they understand or not.

It’s here you ask questions, whether it forms as a real sentence in your head or mouth, or simply groans more like a feeling inside. I can tell you on that little mesa  overlooking a very small town, it is very hard not to ask a series of “Why?” or “Where were You?”s.

And I can’t explain, but in the middle of staring out at all of the unanswered questions, or at least the ones that God seems so quiet about, I become more convinced than ever of something much larger than me going on.

Weird how the shorter the question (“Why?”) the larger the answer, and somehow when I stand there on that hill looking through this statue image of Jesus being sacrificed for me, I get a sense of how much larger than the world Jesus’ story really is.

I once got into a heated argument (I wonder why folks have to get heated over certain things) with a friend over the question of whether Truth is knowable. A very long story short to what I believe about this is that yes, Truth is knowable, but in this world, not all Truth will be known.

Not yet anyway.

So I’m sitting here watching the news, reading online, seeing my emails and Facebook, and the Aurora shooting is positioned on every screen and window, every audio and visual news medium.

And all I know. The only thing that I know.

Is how much we need Jesus.

I cannot make sense of tragedy, not right now. And I don’t tell you this because I feel some pressure to. I tell you this because quite simply, I want an answer to tragedy myself. But all that I have is that not all Truth will be knowable, not yet… and that this world, these people, that shooter, like you, like me… like every human being who has ever lived or will ever live, desperately needs Jesus Christ, the Son of the Living God
It seems every single day I personally find more evidence of a singular call in life, that call to which everything should and can be subservient… that all the world needs to hear that Jesus is Lord. Because He came here but the world has not understood it.

Not yet anyway.

There is so much more to do and say. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

Help us tell the world about You.

Be with us, when we don’t know the way.

Encourage us, when we are frozen in fear.

Be enough for us, when we don’t know the answers.