Death has changed. He went from far future to staring me in the face – from distant relative to common bedfellow. My sweet friend left and I’ve been wading in mysteries and ideas too deep. God went from a sweet gentleman intent on loving me to a ferocious, wild being I didn’t understand. A God who spoke and waves rose and mountains formed. A God who stood behind storms that terrified me. And I kept having images of standing before this being. This ferocious, wild being. I stood before Him naked knowing He could destroy me with a word. Knowing I had nothing to offer Him – all my good works as good as menstrual rags. My sweet friend now stands before this being we cannot control or manipulate. And I’ve been terrified. I’ve been standing in that image of God for months now. I have seen His majesty, His ferociousness. And the ideas of Him being a lover pursuing me have faded to the background. He was much, much more. And He flew out of my clutches – I could not persuade Him with wise words for my words were nonsense in front of Him. This morning, I went to work as normal, but I got to go alone. Instead of having noise abounding, I had ears to listen to words. Anointed words. And the words that I heard were, “Messiah. Messiah. Jesus, my Saviour.” I immediately saw myself in front of this ferocious God, but this time someone came forward. A man in flowing robes, majestic, holy, strong, a king of heaven and earth – came and stood in front of me. He defended me with words and actions and blood. I saw the crowds shouting, “Messiah! Messiah!” as he rode to his death. I saw the stars and ocean and host of Heaven watch in horror as the one who spoke them into being sacrificed his life, his blood staining the ground. Jesus, my Saviour. I watched as He came and saved me from His own wrath. And the throng of Heaven bowed, shouted and cried, “Messiah! Messiah!” The Gospel isn’t a set of rules. It isn’t a group of moral people spreading cheer. The Good News is that Jesus thought of us. That He saw us as worth more than the sparrow and the stars above. That He came in front and defended us from the wrath that was waiting to destroy us. And you know, maybe the Bible isn’t true. Maybe it’s a man-made book. Maybe I’ll die and I’ll become nothing. But I’ve decided to take Pascal’s wager. I stake my life on the wager that it is true. For if it isn’t, my life will be wasted in a dream. But if it is and I wager against it, the stakes are terrifyingly final.