johnthebaptist15

One day last week, I saw an Alabama motor vehicle tag number “JHN151.” As I had been in a heightened state of prayer that morning, I immediately saw the tag number as a message from God. I frequently quote Henry Blackaby as saying in the 1990 book, Experiencing God, “God speaks to us by the Spirit through the Bible, prayer, circumstance and the church to reveal Himself, His purposes and His ways.” However, I’m not sure I’ve seen Him speak through a car-tag, but I guess that could be considered “circumstance.”

The tag puzzled me, though as I couldn’t figure out whether it was abbreviated “John 1:51” or “John 15:1.” The former states, “He then added, ‘Very truly I tell you, you will see heaven open, and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man.” I mused on that passage for a while and thought as how it could have a particular meaning for me. In it, Jesus refers to the passage in Genesis 28:10-19 in which Jacob, in a dream, sees a giant ladder descending from Heaven to Earth upon which angels are freely traveling up and down.

That could be a sign that God is at work doing something in these troubled times, perhaps a mighty work. The truth of that notwithstanding, the passage just didn’t “click” as the one to which God was pointing me this time. As I prayed, “Lord, which one?” He said, “Watch and wait,” so I did.

The second and more likely passage is “John 15:1” which states, “I am the true vine, and my Father is the gardener.” That passage, one of Jesus’ last incarnate sayings before his Passion, opens a multi-verse dissertation in which Jesus compares the relationship between His disciples, and thus all Christians, and Himself, to that of a vine and a branch. The gist of the passage holds that we Christians, for all our great ideas and machinations, can do nothing of eternal good if we have cut ourselves off from Him, the True Vine. Thus, it is more important to stay in contact with that Vine than to do stuff, even if the stuff appears to be good.

Pastor Alan Cross of Petaluma Baptist Church in California has recently taught on this very thought. I suggest that such is one of Pastor Alan’s life themes, one that he not only preaches but practices. Consequently, the thought stuck in my mind.

Likewise, Pastor Jay Cooper of First United Methodist Church Montgomery, Alabama, in his daily Facebook® postings of iconography at the church facility, posted a photograph of a plaster casting of the Vine adorning the entrance to the building at left, q.v.

Thus, that day, God began to answer the threshold question. Now, however, the second, and the maybe greater question is, “What am I to take from it?”

As I prayed over the subject, I received an email from Tabby Case, a friend of long-standing, in which she connected me with her daughter, Abigail, who is a bi-vocational missionary on an island in the South Pacific. Abigail, like the rest of us, has been in lock-down for weeks.
Abigail spends her days working at her continuing, but scaled-down, menial day-job, the one that sustains her to do the real work, that of serving as a missionary to hundreds of young people. She stated in a recent email message and a video that during the period, she has had the opportunity to dwell deeply in prayer. In those sessions alone with God, God has revealed many things to her, things will inform her ministry and mission not just for the near-term, but long-term as well. I quote a passage from her note:

Our ministry, as well as the global body, is being shut up in our homes. We are waiting for the Lord to deliver us from what enslaves us, like consumerism, materialism, this constant need to be entertained and distracted; we are waiting for death to pass over us. I believe this time is a time of reconciling our hearts back to our first love – back to the only one who can satisfy. The Father is coming through His people and pruning back what is not necessary and poisonous (John 15) to bring forth lasting fruit. I believe this period of silence is a period of massive deliverance and refinement of the body of Christ, where we are being stripped of all the subtle idols and comforts that have crept into our hearts and stolen the love that rightly belonged to God.

Abigail’s prophesy is so profoundly succinct that I will not attempt to interpret, comment, or otherwise obscure the clear and present message from God Himself – from the pen of one young in years – but growing mightily in the Faith. More than this, I dare not say.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

A bird’s nest dropped onto the driveway. Now, to be honest, a pine tree does overhang that spot, but the bird’s nest dropped beside me onto the driveway. That’s pretty close to falling from the sky, – and it was a fully-intact, but empty, bird’s nest. 

Carefully, I picked up the bird’s nest, sensing that it was indeed, somehow a word-picture from God, an object lesson, if you will. Yet, the meaning of the event puzzled me.

My mind meandered about houses falling, about the nest being empty and no longer being needed as the chicks had apparently flown away as had the parents. Was this object a message to me about me? Was God telling me in not so subtle fashion that He had finished with me, dropping me, or (shudder) calling me home? I must admit that option scared me a bit. I’m like the old joke, “Sure, I want to go to Heaven, but you aren’t getting up a load today, are you?” 

I really couldn’t settle on a meaning, so I conjured the bright idea to take a picture of it and post it on Facebook® soliciting input from literally anybody in the world as to what they thought it meant. 

However, just before I hit “send,” a pinecone fell with a hard “thummmmp” as I was sitting on the tailgate of the truck. It missed my head by about 18 inches. Immediately and understandably, I concluded that this idea was not what God had in mind at all. (Ya think?) 

My thoughts and hare-brained schemes, I yielded over to Him and just saved the post to myself, never hitting “send.”  

That’s when things really began to happen. things seemingly unrelated, but perhaps, things inter-related in God’s cosmology.  

The mailman came up, and I felt impressed to pray for his safety. After all, he’s a bit older than some and he’s exposed to many people every day.

The mailman prayer enlarged into a prayer for all those in high-risk professions like the ED nurse or doctor in New York who is the daughter of a friend of mine, likewise the ED RN in New York, a friend of my daughter’s. 

Those thoughts simmered for a while in the prayer-stew that was reaching the boiling point inside my head – inside my spirit. Presently, the thought emerged from the grog that God was speaking in much larger terms than just about one man – me. This is unusual in our relationship. He usually tells or asks me stuff about me, or at least, that’s what I want to hear.

But I wondered if this time He was sending a message through me to the Christians in America, the Church, saying that our nest had hit rock bottom. Pair that thought with the impression of His grace that was the pinecone veering off-track just enough to avoid hitting me – or from hitting His church.  

Mulling that over, He inserted the thought of a Bible study in which I am involved which originates across the country, and when I say that, I mean it as in Chimney Rock point out in the Pacific Ocean near Petaluma, CA. That’s a spot where a pastor friend of mine recently felt impelled to visit, photograph, and pray.

In that study, we are reading Psalms 120 through 134, the Psalms of Ascent prayed by Jewish pilgrims on the way up to Jerusalem for holy days.  We’re at Psalm 130. The first line in Peterson’s translation/paraphrase says, “Help, God – the bottom has fallen out of my life!”

When I originally read that Psalm and thought about it, I said to myself that the bottom had not really fallen out of my life. Honestly, I’m doing okay during these troubles. (Certainly, God forbid, that could change in a heartbeat.) 

In light of what else God has said to me today, I wonder if that is not a general message for the church to hear and not just for me.  

All the day’s happenings came upon in rapid-fire succession. Soon, my daughter reposted a post by a pastor decrying the depths to which we as a people, we Americans, have sunk, the selfishness and greed which we either evince ourselves or tolerate in others, the inequities we have perpetrated ourselves or have tolerated, made all the worse and highlighted in these times of scarcity.  

As I was processing that thought, God drew my attention to the young black neighbor across the street trying to cram too much into his garbage roll-out can. Tomorrow is garbage pick-up day. On most days, I’d just sit on my tailgate and watch in amusement, but today is not most days.  God directed my attention to my roll-out can on the curb. He said, “You’ve got extra capacity in yours, unusually, what are you going to do about it?” That one, I knew.

Quickly, I hopped off my tailgate and hustled to get the roll-out can. I called out to the man across the street, “Hey, neighbor, can I give you a hand?” He was glad for the help. I rolled my can across the street and we moved some of his garbage into my can. My new neighbor expressed great gratitude for my help. I obliged and thought, “All I gave him was extra space in a garbage can. Is anything more menial than that?” Yet it’s what God wants, and I did it. Now I know the guy, the new neighbor, and we’ll be friends.  

Is that an object lesson for us all? Have we sunk so low that we don’t normally think about giving space in a garbage can to someone different from us? But, then again, are we different, or are we just two average guys taking the garbage out together?  

It wasn’t long before I saw another repost from my daughter, this time, a tweet from a young man for whom I have the utmost respect for his ability but more so for his character – Jalen Hurts. He simply said in the tweet, “Jesus replied, ‘You do not realize now what I am doing, but later you will understand.’ John 13:7. Just let God work His magic.” 

Perhaps, that’s a good place to end and some good advice – no, a prophesy, “Just let God work His magic.”  

So let it be written, so let it be done.  

Since “The Troubles,” I’ve spent a lot more time in prayer. I hope that’s because it’s a good thing and not merely for want of other things to do. A couple of insights have come my way regarding “the mechanics” of prayer, one earlier and the other later this week.

Perhaps, you were taught, as was I, that one way to pray privately is following the acrostic, ACTS. Adoration, confession, thanksgiving, and supplication. By following that method, I came to some strange questions.

Adoration. In adoration, we tell God how great He is and how much our very existence turns on Him. That’s a lofty position to take, and with practice, it’s not much of a verbal stretch. (Do you hear a “BUT” coming?) So as not to disappoint . . . but do we put God at the center of our lives? Are we really convinced that we can’t get along without Him? Do we have a concept of how ineffably “cool” God is? Frequently, we say, “I need you, God.” Really? Is God more important than stuff? Is God more magnificent than we can imagine, than we can even suspect? Just asking.

Confession. Confession is supposed to be about repentance – not just not committing a sin, but not intending to ever do it again. But, have you truly turned from sin, changed your mind about it – that’s what the Greek word for “repentance” contemplates, or are you planning your next excursion into it as you finish the prayer? Surely, you’ve never done that before.

Thankfulness. Are you truly thankful? Can you imagine what life would be like without this particular blessing? (You know what’s coming here,) Or, do you take life and its joys (or at least some of them) for granted?

Supplication. When we get to the “list” part of the prayer, is the list longer about you than about someone else? And even when you pray for someone else, do you have a burden for that person? Do you feel his pain? Does it hurt you that he is hurting? Do you attempt to ameliorate his suffering by a tangible action if you can? Are you persistent in prayer for him?

(Now for the bad stuff,) or do you have a list of things that you want God to do for you or somebody else because you think it would be a good idea? Have you ever wondered what God thought about those admittedly, good things?

Lest you view me as a complete and utter cynic (you might be closer to right than wrong about that,) I realize that Christians have been praying in that manner, inter alia, others for millennia, maybe even before they were Christians, maybe even before Christians were Christians. However, there are other ways to do it.

My church gave me the opportunity to pray for a group of people during these “Troubles.” These are people whom I do not know and whom I have never met. Now, I can write them a sweet note and say, “I’m praying for you today, whether I did or not or whether I merely said, “And Lord, bless everybody on this list and give them what You know they need.” I can do that and feel good about myself.

Or, I can dig deeper. I was wondering if I were to pray something specific about each one of these folks, how would I go about doing it? Remember, I don’t know much, if anything, about them.

I considered calling the Preacher and asking him how to do it. But then, I had a novelle thought, “Why not ask God?” If anybody will know how to do it, He will, being that He’s omniscient and everything. So, that’s what I did.

I reduced the “list” to an Excel spreadsheet and created a page for each person listing all known information and each contact by date. (Sometimes, I’d rather organize it than actually do it.) Then with the laptop spreadsheet open and sitting on the tailgate of the red truck on my driveway, I set about to pray for each one – individually.

I just started at “A” and said, “God, You know that I don’t know anything about ‘A’ or especially how to pray for her, but You do. Would You reveal something, maybe just one thing that I should pray for ‘A?’ And I waited, fighting the urge to make up something that sounded good.

Presently, a thought came into my mind. I wondered if it was from God, the Devil, or the “Wild Hare.” Then God said, “Why don’t you just run with it.” So, I did. I prayed that thought for that person. And somehow, I knew when it was time to move on to “B.” So, I did. Thoughts came rushing into my mind in an unbroken stream of consciousness until I got to “Z,” and then I knew that it was time to stop.

At some point, I looked at my watch, and, Holy Jack Kerouac, I realized that I had been standing beside the tailgate of the red truck in the driveway for an hour and a half. Then God said to me, “I’ve enjoyed hearing from you, but more than that, I’ve enjoyed being with you.” Whoa, dude! Did God just say that He’d enjoyed being with me? 

You know what, I enjoyed being with Him, too. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what the whole exercise is all about.

Maybe He’d enjoy being with you a while, ya think?

So let it be written, so let it be done.

JOHN THE BAPTIST?

This author writes under the nom de plume, “John the Baptist.” See my blog at <johnthebaptist15.com>. But is the pseudonym more a wish or a whim than aspiration? Perhaps, in the examination of this question, you may see something of yourself – or maybe it’s just me.

The real John the Baptist achieved notoriety and even success when viewed from a distance; but, was that his goal?

From his beginning, he was a man marked out by God for God’s particular purpose. Luke 2 gives a vivid account of his miraculous conception and birth story. While still in his mother’s womb, when confronted by the nascent, perhaps even undiscovered fetal Jesus, he “lept in the womb.” Luke 2:41 KJV. The prophecy about him held that he would be a prophet in the oldest tradition, observing the privations of and living the lifestyle of a prophet, complete with camel – hair clothes, leather belt, and a diet reminiscent of Elijah. Mark 1:6.

When questioned as to whether he was a prophet, he demurred, saying merely that he was preparing the way for One who was greater. John 1:19-25.

In his day, one could argue both sides of the question as to whether he was a “success.” While it is true that he successfully prepared the way for the Lord, baptizing Him and thus passing to Him the prophetic baton, John did die a gruesome death in a dungeon betrayed by the lusts of men and women for sex and power.

Obviously, in Christian history’s longer view, he was a grand success. Of him, Our Lord said, “there is none greater born of woman than John the Baptist.” Matthew 11:11. Of whom in John’s time could that be said? Of whom among us, today can that be said? Surely not I.

William Barclay in his Daily Bible Study Commentary on Mark states that John’s message was compelling because he lived his message, “because he told people what in their heart of hearts they knew and brought them what in the depths of their souls they were waiting for,” he was” completely humble,” and he brought a message from God about “someone greater than himself.”

Mark 1:7, NIV quotes John.

And this was his message: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie.”

John the Baptist was a man for whom the mission was everything and was worth everything. For him, nothing else mattered. He was not distracted by the goings-on about him, though he was keenly aware of them.  Matthew 14:4. He spoke what God told him to speak without gloss and nothing else.

All things considered, for John the Baptist, no one could accuse him of believing or even giving place to the thought, “It’s all about me.”

* * *

Now, to this John the Baptist, the modern-day blogger, (and maybe to some Methodists, as well.) May I submit that God has given each of us a mission, not unlike that of John the Baptist, a mission to “prepare the way for One who is greater (Christ.”) Concerning that mission, do I, do we, exhibit the qualities of my namesake? Is everything about the mission? Am I, are we, not distracted by the apoplectic goings-on in the world? In this society of relative plenty for those so blessed (like me, like us,) am I, are we, more concerned, as Francis Schaeffer said, with safety and comfort more than anything else? Do I, do we, do the same things and think the same thoughts as do those whom I, who we, decry? Am I, are we, living my (our) own dream, living the “American Dream,” or am I, are we, living God’s dream?

If the former is the case and not the latter, why is that? What am I, are we missing? Counting the “I’s” in the last six sentences may give us a clue.

Pray with me if you will that we may turn the “I’s” to “Him’s,” the “me’s” to “You’s,” and the dreams to sureties. May the mission be the mainstay, the distractions be the downplayed, and may the I, the “we,” be the decrease as [the] He becomes the increase.

Please know that I am praying for you and your ministry this Monday.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

JOHN THE BAPTIST?

This author writes under the nom de plume, “John the Baptist.” See my blog at <johnthebaptist15.com>. But is the pseudonym more a wish or a whim than aspiration? Perhaps, in the examination of this question, you may see something of yourself – or maybe it’s just me.

The real John the Baptist achieved notoriety and even success when viewed from a distance; but, was that his goal?

From his beginning, he was a man marked out by God for God’s particular purpose. Luke 2 gives a vivid account of his miraculous conception and birth story. While still in his mother’s womb, when confronted by the nascent, perhaps even undiscovered fetal Jesus, he “lept in the womb.” Luke 2:41 KJV. The prophecy about him held that he would be a prophet in the oldest tradition, observing the privations of and living the lifestyle of a prophet, complete with camel – hair clothes, leather belt, and a diet reminiscent of Elijah. Mark 1:6.

When questioned as to whether he was a prophet, he demurred, saying merely that he was preparing the way for One who was greater. John 1:19-25.

In his day, one could argue both sides of the question as to whether he was a “success.” While it is true that he successfully prepared the way for the Lord, baptizing Him and thus passing to Him the prophetic baton, John did die a gruesome death in a dungeon betrayed by the lusts of men and women for sex and power.

Obviously, in Christian history’s longer view, he was a grand success. Of him, Our Lord said, “there is none greater born of woman than John the Baptist.” Matthew 11:11. Of whom in John’s time could that be said? Of whom among us, today can that be said? Surely not I.

William Barclay in his Daily Bible Study Commentary on Mark states that John’s message was compelling because he lived his message, “because he told people what in their heart of hearts they knew and brought them what in the depths of their souls they were waiting for,” he was” completely humble,” and he brought a message from God about “someone greater than himself.”

Mark 1:7, NIV quotes John.

And this was his message: “After me comes the one more powerful than I, the straps of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie.”

John the Baptist was a man for whom the mission was everything and was worth everything. For him, nothing else mattered. He was not distracted by the goings-on about him, though he was keenly aware of them.  Matthew 14:4. He spoke what God told him to speak without gloss and nothing else.

All things considered, for John the Baptist, no one could accuse him of believing or even giving place to the thought, “It’s all about me.”

* * *

Now, to this John the Baptist, the modern-day blogger, (and maybe to some Methodists, as well.) May I submit that God has given each of us a mission, not unlike that of John the Baptist, a mission to “prepare the way for One who is greater (Christ.”) Concerning that mission, do I, do we, exhibit the qualities of my namesake? Is everything about the mission? Am I, are we, not distracted by the apoplectic goings-on in the world? In this society of relative plenty for those so blessed (like me, like us,) am I, are we, more concerned, as Francis Schaeffer said, with safety and comfort more than anything else? Do I, do we, do the same things and think the same thoughts as do those whom I, who we, decry? Am I, are we, living my (our) own dream, living the “American Dream,” or am I, are we, living God’s dream?

If the former is the case and not the latter, why is that? What am I, are we missing? Counting the “I’s” in the last six sentences may give us a clue.

Pray with me if you will that we may turn the “I’s” to “Him’s,” the “me’s” to “You’s,” and the dreams to sureties. May the mission be the mainstay, the distractions be the downplayed, and may the I, the “we,” be the decrease as [the] He becomes the increase.

Please know that I am praying for you and your ministry this Monday.

So let it be written, so let it be done.

He is risen. He is risen indeed!

It is the Monday after we have celebrated Easter, Resurrection Sunday. We have greeted each other with the millennia-old greeting, “He is risen. He is risen indeed!”

Now, with Easter behind, in the period before Pentecost and the filling with the Spirit of the Church Universal, may I offer some questions to ponder, a set obvious and a set not so obvious?

Who? Really? Why?

THE OBVIOUS.

Who? Without doubt, the biblical narrative states and history confirms that Jesus of Nazareth rose bodily from the grave “just as He said He would.”

Really? Yes. Commentators tell us that Jesus’ bodily rising from the tomb is one of the most well-documented facts in history.

Why? May I submit, based on the writings of N. T. Wright, that Jesus rose from the grave as part of the Father’s great meta-narrative for the ages. He arose to prove His victory over the last enemy: death, hell, and the grave. He conquered death that we might have everlasting life. He fulfilled all the requirements of the Law and ushered in a new “Act,” (as Wright says) or age in the Father’s plan, the “Now and the Not Yet. “

To all that, we could say, “Yes and Amen. Now, tell me something I don’t know, Captain Obvious.”

THE NOT-SO-OBVIOUS.

What if we thought of the questions differently? What if we made the subject of the questions ourselves, “thou,” if you will, or more personally, “I” instead of our Blessed Lord? I attempt to weave three streams of thought to make the point.

First is the sweet old hymn, “I Am Satisfied with Jesus,” which though well-intentioned, I submit, misses the point. The hymn asks the question, “Is my Master satisfied with me?” To which we must forever reply, “No” because we can never do enough to earn our salvation, nor can we act “Christianly enough” to live up to Jesus’ standards.

Secondly, Pastor Alan Cross teaches, “It’s not like we do our best to meet Jesus and He supplies the rest. No,” he states, “Jesus does everything.” We can do nothing of eternal significance on our own.

Thirdly, as Pastors Gillian, Lucas, and Jason taught in their Wednesday night Lenten Study, alms-giving is not about that which we must do but about that which we do solely for the love of God and our fellow person.

To the re-purposed questions: Who? Really? Why?

Who. Are we, art Thou, am I risen with Christ? Those young in the faith may be afraid to ask this question, thinking the question to be improper or might not want to contemplate the answer. May I submit that the question is always appropriate. Am I truly risen with Christ?

If, and only if, we have truly given our lives to Jesus, then we are risen with him, “risen indeed.” As the baptismal formula goes, “Buried with Him in baptism, raised to walk in newness of life.”

Really. If we can truly answer “yes” to the first question, then we must ask the second. Really? Are we really raised to walk in newness of life? Yes, we are raised to walk in newness of life. But that begs the real question, “whether we will actually walk in newness of life?”  

If the subject is our Salvation, the answer most definitely is “yes.” However, if our conduct or “walk” so to speak, is at stake, the answer may not always be so. Assuming arguendo, for the sake of argument, we assume our right actions, we ultimately arrive at the final question.

Why. A “method” actor would ask the question, “What is my motivation?” As Hamlet would say, “Ah, there’s the rub.” Are our motives in doing good always “right” motives? If  they are not, Jesus would call them “hay and stubble.”

But even if our good actions are for right motives, we must ask further, “What are ‘right’ motives?

A psychologist would tell us that there is an open debate among psychologists as to whether anyone can perform any good action for purely altruistic reasons. Is there always some specter of ego?

A lawyer would ask if there be some scintilla of scienter, some speck of evil motive?

An obvious conclusion may be drawn from these three professions’ view of the not-so-obvious questions and the answers thereto. The reasoning, though is circular. Only God (and possibly “The Shadow”) knows “what evil lurks in the heart of man.”

Though we don’t like to think so, we are neither the judge nor the jury evaluating the truth, vel non, of our actions, only God is.

He likewise, is the Great Physician who analyzes our actions.

He is the author and the audience for the play our lives put onstage.

It is left to us to listen to His words, believe them, and act accordingly, resting in the thought that our Father says to us, I got this.”

So let it be written, so let it be done.

It was a cold day, a cold day in April. It was Good Friday. The week had been a normal week, normal in an abnormal way during this time of lockdown. But, it had been a hot and sticky week.

Today was different. As I sat on my front bench I could hear a powerful spring wind blowing. It was not the zephyr of summer, nor a scirocco blowing off a desert, rather, it was a cold and foreboding wind.

Perhaps, this wind was blowing on the day Jesus was crucified. Though men were scurrying about like rats, going about their daily business of buying and selling, marrying and giving in marriage as in the time of Noah, strangely, all the noise of these men was drowned out by the sound of a 2.2 pound hammer, this hammer held in the muscled and sweaty hand of one of the four professional executioners, Roman legionaries, driving the nails into Jesus’ hands and feet.

This was Crucifixion Friday, Good Friday, Completion Friday. This was the day that Jesus not only drink the dregs of the cup of sorrow and guilt, the sorrow and guilt of mankind, of me, but also the day in which he could cried “te telestai,” “it is finished.”

True, the work of Jesus accomplishing the finalization of our salvation was finished, but also, it was a time for Him to rest, to rest in the grave. It was the time of darkness, perhaps, represented by the three hours of darkness during the middle of the day.

I am reminded of and convicted by the words of the hymn, “It Is Well with My Soul.”

My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought.
My sin, not in part but the whole,
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more,
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, o my soul.

On this day here, as that spring wind blew, I perceived that all other sounds were masked by the clank, clank,  clanking of that hammer on the iron nails, not unlike the thump, thump, thump, of the beating heart in Poe’s “Tell Tale Heart,” reminding me of the vision of the blood on Macbeth’s hands after his murder of Duncan in Act 2, Scene 2 of Shakespeare’s eponymous play.

Whence is that knocking?—
How is’t with me, when every noise appals me?
What hands are here! Ha, they pluck out mine eyes.
Will all great Neptune’s ocean wash this blood
Clean from my hand? No, this my hand will rather
The multitudinous seas incarnadine,
Making the green one red.

What, indeed, can wash away my sin? – – –

Hark, Resurrection Sunday lies still on the horizon. I wait…

So let it be written, so let it be done.