Lost Sheep

In the end, it was all about lost sheep.

It was about Ben, the Island-bred murderous liar, for whom manipulation was second nature and coercion simply a means to the end of the moment.

It was about Sawyer, the smooth-talking con-man, rough around every edge, singularly bent on murderous revenge.

It was about Kate, the attractive girl-next-door killer, on the run from the authorities and her broken past.

It was about the Kims, husband and wife in name only, owners of a broken marriage and slaves to a dictatorial father/boss.

It was about John, the bitterly angry paraplegic orphan with sever daddy issues.

It was about Jack, the work absorbed, brilliant surgeon, who could fix everything except his own broken, screwed-up life.

It was about Sayid, the torturer.

It was about Charlie, the druggie.

It was about Claire, the young-mother-turned-crazie.

It was about Hurley, the large, superstitious lottery-winning schizophrenic.

It was about Desmond, the yellow-bellied time-traveller.

It was about a diverse group of fallen, flawed and ultimately lonely people.

They tried to fix things, they tried to do things their own way.  Every step was a stumble, every stumble a full-on face plant.

In the end, it is all about a Lamb.

A Lamb who was born a miraculous birth.

A Lamb who lived a completely human life.

A Lamb who is without spot or blemish.

A Lamb who sympathizes as a Kind and Dread Sovereign.

A Lamb who bled, died and rose again.

This Lamb redeemed David, the cowardly murderous adulterer.

This Lamb redeemed Jacob, the spineless mommas-boy cheat.

This Lamb redeemed Moses, the timidly fearful seeker of man’s honor.

This Lamb redeemed Peter, the loud-mouthed, impetuous, impatient fisherman.

This Lamb redeemed Saul, the hate-filled, Pharisaical butcher.

This Lamb redeemed the dying, bloody, pathetic thief on the Cross.

This Lamb redeemed me.

The Stories of men are powerful.  They’re riveting.  They’re didactic.  They’re inspiring.

Yet, all such stories of hope and grace and redemption pale in comparison to the glorious Light, our Lion and Lamb, in whom is no darkness.