Alētheia

  Yesterday I shot myself in the finger with a nail gun.     Yes, it hurt. How could it not? It didn’t go all the way through, but I did feel it hit the bone. Later in the evening as I was downing ibuprofen for the throbbing pain I had pause to reflect on something remotely (and I emphasize remotely) similar. Being as it is Easter weekend, we celebrate the resurrection of Yeshua.    Though my thoughts last night were not so much on the resurrection as they were on his crucifixion I reflected on how I felt by the quick penetration of a nail into my finger and how minuscule that pain was compared with having a nail, the size of a railroad spike going through my wrist, which is what Yeshua would have experienced. And that pain was compounded by the beating he had had previously, and the whipping that left his back in shreds of flesh not to mention the crown of 3” long thorns pressed hard into his head. My pain was fleeting and minuscule. His pain was excruciating a...