The crowd waits in anticipation. The crowd awaits their leader, the long-awaited victor. They open up the gates of their hearts to welcome their savior. They shout, “Save us! Deliver us from oppression! Save us, oh chosen one of God!”
The crowd waits in anticipation. They place their hope in him. They say to one another, “Pray for him! Pray for our savior, the one who secures our life, our liberty, and our happiness!”
The crowd waits in anticipation. But their leader does not come. They hold open the gates of their hearts, but no one enters in.
Far off in the distance comes one whose skin is dark and hair like wool. They look beyond him to see who follows, to see if their savior is coming. But it is only the man. They close the gates of their hearts. They look to him and cry, “We thought our savior would come. We thought he would deliver us and secure our liberty. We thought he was the chosen one of God!”
With a blood-stained brow the Man speaks, “If only you knew that the oppression from which you long for deliverance is brought upon you by yourselves. If only you knew that it is your notions of life, liberty, and happiness that hold you captive. If only you knew that it is not from these things must you be saved, but it is from yourselves and your self-centered ways.”
Stirred with anger, the crowd looks at the man, “You do not know what you are talking about! Our savior will come! He will secure our liberty and give us life. He will deliver us!”
And the crowd scatters and everyone in the Church goes home.
Written November 5, 2020 and published on 12:21EST