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There is an inconvenient mystery about a
Convenience Store.
In this Store are the things we bought
With the things we had had in store.
It began as
We sold our trust in God
To buy an apple
We sold our experience of God’s guidance
To buy the law
We sold our right to take responsibility for justice
To buy some judges
We sold our right to rule righteously
To buy a King
Then we were poor and wanted to hear God again
So we sold our sins
To buy some prophets
But then we did not like what the prophets had to say
So we sold our prophets
To buy some lies and deceptions
And some silver coins
But it ended one day
When we sold our last prophet
Our last King
Our Final Judge
Our Lawful Keeper
Our Son of God,
For thirty silver coins
I do imagine it must have been
Rather inconvenient
To leave a Store of Eternal Richness
To come back to the grocery store of the world
Where we live in aisles of convenient relevance
To no one but ourselves
How odd then the mystery of the convenient store
When the one whom we sold for thirty silver coins
Returned and filled His trolley with the lives He picked
Off the shelves heavy with dust
The mystery is this:
The thirty silver coins bought a man’s death
And the cost of that death
Bought us our freedom
Out of a store of dust and moths
And into a store of Heavenly Richness
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