God Dies Accepting Our Absurdities As Though They Were His Reality

The guy had a large tattoo of the word Faith on his forearm. "Faith," I thought to myself. The Milta (Miltha) is God's Manifestation, His assumption of Himself as what He would be if He actually were manifested. "Faith," I thought, "is in that Manifestation truly being the manifesting of God." For some reason I thought of the shroud of Turin. In the wounds apparent from the crown of thorns is a drip of blood on his forehead. That must have hurt like hell. And he went through that for me. And you. We are that valuable to Him. To save me he went through beatings and insults and scourging, a crown of thorns and crucifixion. For me.

And then the thought: "He is still doing it." The Milta is still dying to forgive us. For when we put forth our mistranslation and mistaken ideas of doctrine he gladly puts up with it and says, "Sure, fine. Just come. We'll get it straightened out later. You don't have to have it all figured out perfectly to be saved, just COME." For the moment, he'll die to our error. "JUST HAVE FAITH AND COME UNTO ME."