We’re Still In The Old Testament, though.

We’re still in the Old Testament, though.

Still at mount Sinai,

Still carving laws into stone with bare, blistered hands,

still thinking God lives inside what we do,

not who we are.

*

We’ve taken His blood,

took the sacrifice he placed on the cross,

took the nailed hands,

took the pierced side,

took the empty tomb,

and left the living words behind.

*

We hung His name on our lips like jewelry,

we wear His cross like a badge,

but still measure holiness by hem lengths and headscarves,

by kitchens and Sabbath steps,

by the crust of the bread and the weight of the tithe.

*

We act like Pharisees with sneakers on,

Judging the way she laughs,

the tattoos on her thighs,

His dreadlocks that hangs,

the way they stumble into church smelling like yesterday’s sin.

We act like grace is a thing you can gatekeep.

*

We’re still eating manna,

afraid to taste the milk and honey.

We act like God is impressed by clean hands,

when He asked for clean hearts.

*

We’re still shouting law in the streets,

whispering mercy behind closed doors.

Still believing heaven is a prize for the good kids,

still crafting salvation like a resume.

*

We forgot,

Forgot He said “It is finished.”

Not, “It is started, now impress me.”

Salvation is not a way to test me.

*

We forgot that He healed the leper before the leper could believe,

loved the prostitute before she washed his feet,

called the fisherman before he even dropped his nets.

Take me back to when salvation was felt, not just “met.”

*

We forgot the kingdom is made of little children,

not just know it all bible scholars.

Of broken bottles, not sealed scrolls.

Of mustard seeds, not measuring sticks.

*

But here we are,

Still building temples of judgment,

Still selling doves in the courtyard,

Still crucifying the innocent,

in our hearts,

with our eyes,

with our mouths,

because they don’t look the part.

*

We’re still in the Old Testament, though.

Still choosing sacrifice over mercy.

Still choosing ritual over relationship.

Still choosing the old wineskin,

proudly spilling new wine.

*

We’re still memorizing the rules,

Still overlooking the New Testament and its truth.

*

But listen,

He’s still turning over our tables.

Still writing in the dust when we cast our stones.

Still waiting at the well for the thirsty.

Still breaking bread with sinners.

Still sitting at dinner tables and welcoming all to sit and eat,

Still walking into locked rooms, breathing out “Peace.”

*

He’s still whispering,

“Follow Me,”

not “Impress Me.”

“Love Me,”

not “Perform for Me.”

*

He’s still here.

Waiting for us to step out of the Old,

into the New,

and actually live.

We are still in the Old Testament though.

And He’s been calling us into the New Testament, you know.