• michaelaviel7


The propulsion of His ascension was pain. A naked God hangs, nailed mid-air between earth and heaven, a wholly humiliation and a stripping away of the world’s gravity. Arms opened ghastly; blood dripping, He ascends upon the cross - hangs for hours, a visual declaration of the beauty within His wounding.

But how is such a horror beautiful? The God-man in the prime of His youth, early 30s - vibrant with the velvety of life now has His skin shredded from His bones. A whip contacts God - the body of God. Him who turns the vinegary of life’s pains into gentle feather caresses, now has his back splattered open by our whips. God bleeds, to set Adam free; and eyes are given at each spurt of the Father’s blood. And yet…we do not see. We wear shades; dark silhouettes from His light; opaques from our performances and desires and we miss the sight into His flesh.

If we could see…we could see Jesus’ skins hanging upon His bones, a heart wrenching audible sight. A sight that speaks, “Behold my loves - behold into the bone of your bone, flesh of your flesh, you shall be called Mine.”

You see, we ascend because of His woundings. We ascend because we are partakers of His suffering. So Jesus is propelled from the earth by a cross - acute agony hoisting Him. He bleeds, He cries and He prays for us - utter gasps of holy air - the wordless prayer of the heart.

~Michael Aviel 2022

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