trauma. and the too-muchness of it.
on Monday, 18 April 2016 a bomb exploded on a bus in Jerusalem’s suburb of Talpiot. as one of the local papers put it, the attack was reminiscent of the ugly days of the Second Intifada when Israel was devastated by a relentless assault of bus bombings which lasted for a period of five years. I can’t even imagine what that does to the psyche of a nation—the horror, the horror.
as Pesach and Chag HaMatzot – passover and the festival of yeastless bread – approached, I looked forward to the celebration with mixed feelings: distress-mingled anticipation. the fact that such a terrible attack had taken place in the week leading up to the feast which immortalised the great deliverance from Egypt and also Messiah Yeshua’s complete victory over evil filled my heart with sorrow. it is always a difficult thing to try to reconcile these opposing realities. that is, remembering the wonders that God did in past ages while His Holy Hill remains a prisoner of hate and darkness.
then again, sometimes all we can do is simply sit in this place of crisis and hope while we pray for a deliverer to arise out of Zion.
many millennia ago Mashiach came as the passover lamb, Messiah Ben-Yosef, to suffer on behalf of a world that was hell-bent on going to hell. we were determined. but He bore the full weight of the punishment that was due to us. and one day soon He will return as Messiah Ben-David, the conquering King come to take His rightful place as ruler of the earth. indeed from the midst of Mount Zion He will reign over all the nations of the world.
but until that day I will continue to mourn. for we are a broken humanity. and also continue look to the hills with hope. because, since the days of Moses, He has not stopped the miracle of translating broken man from dark oppression into the realm His glorious light.