You who are of purer eyes than to see evil and cannot look at wrong, why do you idly look at traitors and remain silent when the wicked swallows up the man more righteous than he? (Hab. 1:13)
With complacent and callous heart, I pretend that You are not ever-present, ever-watchful--knowing the depths of my heart to an extent I cannot fathom.
I hide myself from Your gaze, revealing my foolishness, for where can I go from Your Spirit? Where can I flee from Your presence? If I go up to the heavens, You are are there. If I make my bed in the depths, You are there.
I hide myself from Your gaze like my forebears in Eden, my own eyes cast down in shame. I grasp the truth of the Good News, but know little of its power.
If I were to truly consider You in the splendor of Your holiness, I would be undone. Your eyes are pure and will not look upon wrong. In your forbearance, You tolerate the traitor for a time, storing up the wrath that is fully justified in Your judgment.
I must meditate upon my Lord, who, on the night He was betrayed, then broke bread for His disciples and said "This is my body for you."
I must meditate upon my Savior, who, hearing the jeers of a treacherous humanity, cried out for their forgiveness--for my forgiveness.
He bears the pure eyes that belong to God alone, and with those eyes, for the joy set before Him, affixed His gaze upon the cross and endured its shame.
He knew Your holy demands--that Your pure character and righteous decrees would permit no sinner in your presence. So He became sin for me. He bore the purity of Your wrath.
He cried out to You, but You sat idly by as traitors mocked Your Son and the wicked swallowed up One more righteous than themselves. You remained silent as He cried out "My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?"
I know the answer, but I can't fathom it. Your Son was forsaken in my place. His perfect life was taken for my grace.
I cannot wait for the Day when the death that swallowed Him for three days is itself swallowed up in His victory.
I cannot wait for the Day when the truth of that victory--that my sins are truly nailed to the cross for all time--is brought to bear upon my naked heart and clothes it in the comfort of Christ.
