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The Garden of Creation, now lost to one and all, replaced by forest thickets upon whose roots we fall; our destiny still governed by laws we always break and all creation stumbles over the mess we make. The fruit for which we lusted, upon that single tree, reminds us of our stubborn pride and failed humanity. The other Tree was kept from us lest we should live forever; expelled, we faced the mortal cost of our rebellious error. But while that sin stained everyone born to the world of men the love of God could not be dimmed and purposed, even then, to be the way for our return into his holy place, our restoration, full and free, by such a costly grace. Into our world he placed the seed: his Word, his Light, his Son and he, among us, lived and died - the hope for everyone. The Tree of Life was lifted up to bear the Lord of All as it became the wooden cross that broke our fateful Fall. And once again the Garden received that perfect Man and we began to understand the mystery of Love’s plan. The empty cross, the empty tomb, now relics of the fight: the darkness withers at the dawn of Resurrection Light.
He chose to wash disciples’ feet, despite his majesty, and showed them all the way of love, his holy destiny. Though tempted to refuse the Cup he knows its history. The Chosen One has made his choice and drinks his destiny. The Prince of Peace is judged by hate though reason would him free. This world will never let him rule and change its destiny. The Servant-King gives up his throne to grip a cruel tree. With hands held wide and crowned with thorns he bore his destiny. My God, my Saviour and my Friend has suffered all for me. He calls me to leave all for him and share his destiny. Now may I live as if I’ve died to all that I might be and rise with him, to live and love, this is my destiny. (c) Graham Oakes
This deep and silent darkness, this all too human fear; this self-denying Deity, this judgement drawing near. This cool and fragrant garden, this echo of the Fall; this reason for his Passion, this hard and heavy call. This path of pain and sorrow, this pruning of the bud; this cup that must be taken, this shedding of the blood. This one last opportunity, this choice to turn away; this Love that answers for him, this Will that means he'll stay. This Father-Son communion, this precious Trinity; this loss of heaven's presence, this fulfilled prophecy. This waited for arrival, this friend and solemn foe; this end to end all endings, this life to death must go. (c) Graham Oakes