The image of a bruised middle-aged man on a cross, crossed the eyes of the crossed-eyed man. It brought chills when he remembered the pain, and thrills when he saw the crown of life waiting to be placed on his head. He shared tears at the tears on His perfect white skin, as he could only swipe at the stripes on the Lord’s body. But now, that seems like an eternity ago.
Now he’s dropped his zeal for God for a feel of fun his friends followed, forsaking faith for foreign freedom, fishing in fish-less waters, inhaling fumes of fornication and fellowship in falsehood. We are not being fair to Him.
I agree that following Jesus to the endpoint is harder than titration, but Jesus’ base is enough to dilute your acid, changing your color from red to white, from the methyl orange-colored garment to a spotless soul. He creates a chemistry between the father and His children, like hydrogen and oxygen thereby establishing life-giving water in our souls. We are not being fair to Him.
Some may say that Christianity is harder than mathematics, but I can say without any doubt that if we take the statistics of His love for us, we’ll find out that it is geometrically progressive, with no boundaries, that even a quartile of His love is enough to sustain us. But I’m telling you that if our mode of worship doesn’t put God in the median, then we are only being mean. Like seriously, we are not being fair to Him.
In His love and infinite mercy, He removed probation and put provision, removed probability and put surety, but we repel His magnetic ‘north pole’ by showing him a north pole of our own. We are not being fair to Him.
In the beginning, He made us. In a part of His creation speech, He gave us a name, and pronounced us His heirs. He added the verb multiply to His adjective ‘good’. He ‘preposed’ and purposed us to be great, making Jesus the conjunction linking us to heaven hereby preventing the devil’s interjections but yet, we are not fair to Him.
I could go on and on about Jesus’ love for us, how He switched Himself from being the only begotten son, to being the son of a poor carpenter. He took nails for our fails, horrors for our errors. How do we pay Him back? we kill His will and reject His grace.
We praise the creation leaving the creator, we worship the image neglecting the sculptor. We are so conscious of our image that we forget whose we are made in. We look at ourselves and be like “how great thou art” forgetting that ever before there existed an artwork, there was an artist.
we need to retrace our steps, respect His lordship, review our decisions, receive His grace. We need to realise that the only place we’d need to fit in, is in His arms. Until then, we are certainly not being fair to Him.