Was it a morning like this

We attended an Easter Sunday surnrise service this morning, but it was held in a graveyard. Did we seek the living amongst the dead?

The only reason we used the graveyard was that it afforded the best view of the village below, the mountains beyond and the watery sun that struggled to rise over an uncertain world.

It occured to me that the dead in this village had the best view of all, the best location of any other citizen. There is a metaphor in that, for in this life we see through a glass darkly, now in part, but then face to face. The best views in the house are all are reserved for our moment of death, when we pass out of this world with its limited perspective of glory and the gloom clears to reveal the breathless wonder that awaits us all.

Maybe if we could see more clearly, we would run more surely, but maybe that in itself determines our future perspectives. After all, a runner who has endured the race and fought the last miles, has a far better perspective of the glory of finishing than any spectator can ever have. So, in spite of the removal of the veil that obscures our grasp of heaven, a veil will yet remain for those who have not fought for the prize or run the race or gained mastery or struggled to overcome.

Only the hot and sweaty, the heaving and panting will gain a true concept of glory, for they will see through their tears and the mists of many sorrows, to a rest that surpasses all this world has to offer. They will have a surpassing view that even angels will desire to look into - for they will see Jesus not just as king or the Lord of all, but as the friend that stuck closer than a brother, the friend who never forsook them in life or death.

Peter Eleazar@4u2live.net