the life and times of a twenty year old designer

One Dark Night

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I promise, I’ve got a post about design coming down the pipeline. And tomorrow will be New Music Monday. I know it’s been a while. As a teaser, I’ve started working on my scenic design thesis, and it’s been fantastically exciting. But it’s the end of Holy Week, so bear with me.

Sitting in a dark room, coming through a dark night, at the end of a darkened week full of frustration.

A thought appeared. Clearer than the written word can describe. In brief…

“Do not let the imperfect love of a flawed and broken people distract you or separate you from the perfect, eternal, and self-sacrificing spirit of Christ.”

Sometimes we let the imperfect, human actions of those we know, especially those who profess a certain faith, to distract us from God, and from how far He is willing to go to chase after us.

Think about it. A young, vibrant teacher, at the peak of his ministry. Crowds of thousands follow wherever he goes. He could have risen up an army, become the most powerful man in the world, directly impacted the lives of millions with a message of love and peace.

But if he hadn’t died. We’d all be shot to hell. Literally.

If all he had done was come and been a perfect man and a fantastic preacher, and lived out his days to a natural end, we would still have been inspired. We would still be telling his story and sharing his parables. But like any contemporary, popular pastor whose name may come to mind, his wisdom would have been temporary. And at the end, none of us would have been able to live up to his message. None of us would have been able to come close. We would have been left with a good story that would have continued to frustrate us because it was impossible for us to attain. Clearly, we didn’t need a teacher. We didn’t need a role model. We needed a savior.

So that’s what he did.

He was rejected, more deeply than any of us have ever been. He was betrayed. He was beaten, scorned, cast aside, and murdered, because we could not understand. He was punished fully for crimes he had never committed, crimes whose blame rests solely on our hands. At any point he could have stopped, cried “Enough!” and returned to a peaceful life preaching in the countryside. But he chose to endure out of love. He sacrificed out of love. He gave up everything he earned and deserved out of love. And he did it for us. Because he loved us. It was the only way to get our attention. It was the only way finally connect us to a Father whose standards we will never meet. It was the only way to stand against the message of a world whose most prevalent messages are despair and separation.

He descended fully into a darkness he had done nothing to deserve. And again, if that is all he had done, we would still be inspired by his story. Because three days after committing the ultimate act of love, loving as no man ever has and no man ever could, he attained the ultimate victory. Three days later, he conquered death. Death. The deepest fear in our hearts. The ultimate unknown. The prospect of dying alone and being separated from all we love and hold dear is terrifying enough that we will do anything to prolong our earthly lives. But this man. This man beat it. This man rose from the grave. And he came back for us. He came back to share with us the message that death no longer holds sway. Darkness is conquered. Love has won. And now the universe cries out to us to join in the celebration of victory.

I think that’s a story worth giving thanks for. It’s a story worth celebrating. And it’s a story worth talking about. As always, I’d love to continue the conversation. As it has always been when I write, my only desire is to share what I know and perhaps provoke some thoughts. Thank you for reading.


Written by Taylor Webster

April 24, 2011 at 7:36 pm

Posted in Life of the Spirit

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