On Friday (Good Friday). I drove slowly to work.
I was going north on highway 47. Coming south on both sides were hundreds of walkers. Some were young, some were old. Many were Indians from the pueblo. They were headed to Tome Hill, a local landmark that’s topped with crosses.
Their pilgrimage moved me. It gave me a taste of the day when “every knee shall bow and every tongue confess that Jesus is the Christ.”
Today we celebrate Christ’s victory over sin, and over death. We sing, ‘death is conquered, man is free.’ I think it appropriate to celebrate every victory of his today. Over death, over sin, and, ultimately, over the pride of each unbent knee and the unbelief of each unconfessing tongue. I slay him in my heart but on the third day he comes again.
Each victory comes at a price. When Christ shall have perfected his work, he shall present it unto the Father, spotless, saying, I have overcome and have trodden the wine-press alone.