A Meditation on Revelation 6

The seals are breaking.
One after another.
And the world …
our world …
comes undone.

A white horse rides.
Conquest.
Victory at the expense of peace.

A red horse rides.
War.
Blood staining the soil.

A black horse rides.
Greed.
Bread for the rich, famine for the poor.

And then …
the pale horse.
Death.
Followed by Hades.
The shadow we all fear.

Do you see it?
It’s not just future.
It’s now.
Every time empire marches.
Every time the powerful take.
Every time we worship profit instead of people.
Another horse is unleashed.

And under the altar …
voices cry out.
“How long, O Lord?”
How long until the violence ends?
How long until justice rolls down?
How long until mercy has its day?

And we feel that cry, don’t we?
When the news breaks our hearts.
When another child goes hungry.
When another war begins.
How long?

But then …
don’t miss it …
the scroll is in the hands of the Lamb.

The Lamb.
Not the emperor.
Not the generals.
Not the ones with crowns and swords.

The Lamb.
Slain.
Scarred.
Risen.
The one who conquers by laying down his life.
The one who opens the seals because only love
only sacrifice
only resurrection
is strong enough to hold history.

So yes …
the world unravels.
Yes …
the horses ride.
Yes …
the martyrs cry out.

But the Lamb holds the scroll.
The Lamb holds history.
The Lamb holds us.

And maybe …
just maybe …
every time we forgive instead of retaliate,
every time we share instead of hoard,
every time we choose love instead of fear,
we silence the hoofbeats.
We resist the riders.
We live the Lamb’s way.

Because in the end …
it’s not the horsemen who win.
It’s not death who wins.
It’s the Lamb.

Always.
The Lamb.