In times past, rarely have I envisioned last night's supper or that wretched Friday, the most pivotal day of all human history. I was cognizant that the day my Savior would rise from the grave would come on this Sunday those many years ago, but I never wore its dusty sandals. It was merely like the facts and figures of a historical date, recited in muted lines within a musty tome—far from a visceral experience.

This year, I reflect on what happened that Friday some 1,984 years ago; we mocked as we tortured to death my beloved Jesus. It was not the modern-day, antiseptic viewing room with the lull of lethal injection. No, we belittled Jesus as we blackened his body with a furious physical assault of fists and whips. We took his clothes as we ridiculed him. We laughed as we grossly coronated him, embedding thorns into his scalp. As he dragged the lumber of his vicious fate through a winding path in Jerusalem, we jeered in the liquefying meting of our perverse pleasures of all-time past and all-time future. We sneered as we drove spikes through his wrists and feet. While we danced in the raucous crowd's victory chants, he hung on that most cruel woodworking. Yet, he was full of love, full of grace. He died today, all those years ago. But, that was not the end of the story...

As the years fly by me, I am increasingly introspective as to how all the pieces fit together. We place far too great of an importance on trivial things—endless discourse on the inconsequential: work...politics...sports...entertainment? These and more have their place in our lives, but why are they not in a far more mitigated role? They ought be subjugated to the surpassing greatness of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord. Philippians 3:8-11

But, we don't do that, do we? We labor through mental calculations and pour emotional salve into shooting stars across the night sky. Handpicked for adoption for nothing I ever did, I will bask for all of eternity in the goodness of God. In the meantime, I choose to be consumed by what the godless select as significant and foolishly find their identity—how does that make any sense? May this not be! I've got bigger fish to fry than the minnows of partisan politics and cheap chatter.