Death's aloneness

In the finality and aloneness of death's still corridors
Walks one.
The only one allowed there....by the angel of death.
And He spans the gulf between the living and the dead.
We should live so He'd like to meet us when we die....
And then I care not for death's still, dim corridors
And neither for death's angel.
It's probably one of the clearest moments when we know Him....
When we cross that river.
Then, there, He is realer than He ever was, ever will be...on this shore.
And He spans the gulf between those we leave behind.....and us.

The dark corridors swept pale clean have no memories
of Sunday mornings and the band
Ones we love and ones that love us
Smiling faces, bubbling joy
Of emotional Good Fridays or the gaiety of Easter
Eternity lies before, and a life behind.....with the power of decision removed from our grasp.
No one comes to plead our case
No one comes to cry
No one.
There is, even, no strong silent grief to buoy the spirit, no reservoir of hope within
Tears have no power to heal anymore
Dungeons open, chains clink on to stone floors
A decision remains, just one.....but not ours to make anymore.

But hark.....I hear not the victor's laugh
Nor any echo of voices humming
Just stillness. No one lives here......no one gloats here.
Both victim and seeming victor are silenced
While the Arbiter's will, and His will alone, prevails
The Arbiter says nothing, but transacts firmly ..... in these eerie walls
The victor did not win
And the victim was set free
There are no more spoils of war.
The dungeons hold no one.

Now this happened one day long ago ...... when an innocent was killed on a bloody altar.
Whose body bore all that we were never made to bear
Death's fury.....with the hordes from the pit
Spent on that frail human body.
There was a silent weekend....spent in a pale, antiseptic, unreal, swept-clean, dim corridor.
At dawn on the third day, the Arbiter transacted......and we were free.
Death, the victor, gave up the battle
and fled the field.
Dungeon doors broke their locks......some walked free.
Blinding, cleansing light burst down those dim, clean walls, coiling deep within
a fjord cutting through and bursting out the other shore
Some walked free. Others stayed.....did not know what had happened.

So what happens when we die?
No cold dark dungeon....no waiting for the Arbiter's decision.
The decision is over, and death's jurisdiction ends.
Dungeon doors have locks no more.
Death is the only true alone-moment.
No human being comes with us.
Only the Arbiter.
If Jesus were only lord of my joys...... I'd still be alone at death.
But Jesus is lord of my sorrows.....and that makes Him Jesus to me.
Jesus is Lord...over the moment I cross the shore.
It is but a moment, with fear and unknowing on the known shore....
to wake SAFE, in full knowing and in the light of an awesome presence....on the other, unknown shore.
Jesus, but our fondest and only hope and saviour on the known shore,
The Son, with all His radiance, STILL WITH US...on the unknown shore.
Death is the last enemy......and still, Jesus the only true victor.