A TREE BY THE SEA

So the time has come for the setting sun. The stars faint light pierce the darkening night. Filtered rays of a spent day give way to shadows cast by a rising moon. It will be dark soon. The ravens sleep in a sheltered keep. Their cries are silenced by rhythms that run deep. Songs that sing rest in the falling dusk. They whisper come lie with us. And the ravens hear it. Their voices are stilled. Their cries stop stabbing fear in the hearts of prey to be killed. They settle into down lined nests and preen their gleaming breasts. It is night now and time to rest. The ravens sleep high in their keep.

In the cabin below a man begins to weep. His hands are bloodied from a cough that won’t cease. His voice is strangled. He can’t breathe. He stumbles into the nights still air. In the quiet he chokes out a prayer. God are you there?

There is a pause in the time between the sunset and sunrise at dawn. An eternity can come and then be gone. A minute. A lifetime. A second no less. A painful prayer in a dying breath.

When the morning light again shines through the trees, and the raven’s call is heard upon the breeze. A returning son will fall to his knees. Did you hear me when I cried out for you? Do you know me? Is some part of me true? Could I be a son in whom you are pleased?

And the ravens fly from their seat. They circle low in the sky and watch the man in his sleep. The scent of his blood draws them to his side. He is limp. There is no breath. He has died.

High above, far beyond, out and inside. The man remains and another comes to sit by his side. His breath no longer squelched with blood and tears is now hindered by fear. For the one who he bows before is holy. His face is difficult to see through the brightness of His glory. The man squints and is able to behold the countenance of the One he is unsure he knows. His Creator. The Author of life. The One each man must face when he dies. He trembles in this presence. The fear is real, but a steadying hand reaches out from the other who kneels.

A voice reverberates in the man’s ears. “What my son do you fear?”

The question from the throne mingles with his own. “Am I worthy?”

But his answer is no. You see if you knew this man while he was alive, you could very well find something to despise. Now was he good? Was he bad? These are the questions that arise. These are the very thoughts that are plaguing the man, but then the one at his side stands.

His voice is not quiet, it’s not loud, but it is sure. He say’s, ” Father I remind you that it was for this son that I endured forty lashes and a crown of twisted thorns. I was nailed to a cross and my flesh was torn. For this son that kneels here at your feet I prayed until my brow begun to bleed. I was tortured and beat by men who found pleasure in causing me pain. And for this son I would do it all again.”

The man looks up at the one who stands at his side. He remembers Him well as he thinks of his life. He met him in a Sunday school class when he was just five. He asked Jesus to come into his heart. There are other parts that he remembers too.  The humiliation and the pain of a little boy abused. A boy who cried out for this God to come to his rescue. The memories gripped his soul and made him furious with the One who was supposed to be in control. His life was marred by the stench of scars that would never heal. There were moments that he wondered if this Jesus was ever real.

But the Holy One remains seated on His throne. He says, “Come to me son. I have something that I want you to know.”

The man steps forward and he is shown his body lying still in the flesh. The birds were lured from their nests. They circle him in a black dance of death.

“My son, what do you see?”

The man looks and answers thoughtfully, “I see ravens who have flown from their keep. I see ravens who desire to feed.”

The Holy One nods his head and says, “Now son what if it is not your flesh on which the ravens wish to be fed. Look closely and know that what the ravens intend is not to destroy but to defend.”

The man realizes that the ravens below are no common crow. Their eyes shine with an intelligent gleam as they swoop, fall, and careen through the air over his form. In this moment another thought is born. These ravens will never walk as a man but there is revealed in them an infinite plan. These birds who lived high above him in the trees could always see what he is just now beginning to perceive. That creation waits with bated breath, for the sons of God to be revealed in it.

The raven’s once watched him as he lived his life. They dwelled high above him day and night. Each evening when he closed his eyes it was beneath the ravens pine bowed realm over which they preside. And there was something about this man that caught their eye. It wasn’t his shell but what was inside. For the ravens knew of creation and the One who gives life.

In the beginning one man was deceived. He chose to believe the lie, “You will not die but become wise. Just eat the fruit and your eyes will be opened to both evil and good. It is time that you understood. No man should live the life you were given. No man should be sinless, pure, unforgiven. When you taste the fruit of this tree you will see…”

And knowledge did come, but with it came death. Not for just the one but for all the rest. Every living thing fell under a curse and the creation began to groan like a woman in childbirth. But another man came who was pure as well, but unlike the other who fell he would prevail. Jesus tore the veil. The separation that hung between God and man. The strangle hold that sin once had. Since the death and resurrection of Christ there is not a person alive who can not enter in. There is not a soul whose sins are so great they can’t be forgiven.

And the raven’s black eyes dart from the body to the sky.  The raven never heard the lie. In death he sees this son revealed. He sees a lifetime of pain finally healed. The raven flies in the space between heaven and earth and calls out a song of farewell to this son who is freed from the curse.