Picture a ladder leading to the perfection of God. My ladder does not have all the rungs that it needs to climb to that heady height. With each good deed I attempt to add another rung, but actually as I am selfish, unreasonable, greedy … less than perfect, my rungs fall away. I am carrying all those things that I shouldn’t have done in a backpack that, truth be told, has begun to smell. As it grows heavier my ability to climb to my Father is impeded, prevented. It is truly one painful step forward and two steps back, and I am certainly finding it impossible to climb to where God sits in Heaven.
And the trouble with heaven is that if I entered in this state that I am in, my sins destroying rungs every day, my backpack dark and heavy, it just wouldn’t be heaven any more. The trouble with the pure flame of God is that no darkness can exist within it. It’s burnt up in an instant in the beauty and heat of the fire.
I have a problem of a gap and a backpack. I have a problem of a ladder that does not reach to my Father, and a backpack full of the stuff that I’d rather not remember but cannot shed, however hard I try not to look inside it or even recognise that it’s there.
Now picture another ladder, achieved by a man able to live perfectly only because He contained that Godly flame within Him as He lived on earth. Jesus, fully man and fully God, Your ladder was complete. You could bridge the gap between earth and heaven with ease. You carried no shame filled backpack – there was nothing for you to carry. Your light “shone in the darkness” of the world, You were our light. And yet you were punished with the shameful death of a criminal. You were plunged into death like one who had never tried to construct an escape route.
But wait, there You are, climbing out of death on those sturdy rungs. You are able to reach us on earth. We touch Your hands, Your side. You are able to ascend Your ladder to Your Father.
Your ladder is next to mine Jesus, but it carries on to heaven. On my ladder there is chaos – trying to build with one part of my nature what is destroyed the next moment by that part that I cannot control. Perhaps I should retreat to a rung that I can exist on. Yes, I am not challenged here. I’m not striving anymore. Surely I’m high enough. Surely this backpack, this gap, doesn’t really matter?
But wait, Jesus’ ladder is next to mine and He is there, reaching out a hand. I can’t cross to You Lord. This backpack is something that I can’t shed, and it will pull me down into the abyss. What are You doing? How can you undo the fastenings, loosen the straps, take this stinking parcel of all my failings and put it on Your back? But as You do it burns into nothing and I can cross to Your ladder light as a feather. I can climb with You. When I fall back You lift me up. There is no gap left, and one day I can reach the glorious land that I can see glowing above me.
Come Out
Come out, you are free
To live life with me.
Come out into the open
Breathe the wind off the sea.
Come out my beloved, out of your cell.
I would Lord, but can you imagine the smell?
See, unlike Lazarus, I’ve been here for more
days Lord, many more days than four.
If they were worried about him seeping stench from each pore
What of all I’ve acquired Lord, all of my store
of secrets and selfishness, mistakes, guilt and shame?
But my beloved, what if I take the blame?
It was not only Lazarus who emerged from a cave.
I rolled away the stone on mine
For my plan was to save.
So come now beloved. You can be brave.
Come out, live your life with me
Freed from the grave.
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