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The Seamless Robe

by Helen Murray  
12/01/2011 / Short Stories

It was a beautiful garment, the sort one might wear to a wedding. It had been crafted most assiduously for the beloved, uncut but woven with colourful strands of knowledge, understanding, perception, responsiveness, gentleness, abundance, freedom, dignity, authority, and strength. It hung in gracious folds about the limbs of the beloved, swinging gently whenever He walked, and having great sophistication in its stillness, when He held still to speak, or knelt to pray. It was a most desirable garment in anybody's terms, not the sort of thing one would want to lose track of .

Where is that garment now? Does it hang somewhere in gracious folds, on a coathanger, maybe? Are the colours still brilliant, or are they choked and grey these days? What happened to that beautiful robe that had adorned the Master?

They crucified Him, the Faithful and True, and played dice for the garment, but the garment is disintegrated somewhere, if it exists at all. Without the Master it swings no more on its new owner, the mocker, for the mocker is dead, and with him the beautiful robe rots in his grave. Its glory is no more.

The Master, Faithful and True, laughed at the grave, and left it in a new garment crafted in Heaven, a robe fit indeed for a great King, to be worn with a glorious crown. Its Heavenly colours are innocence, wisdom, peace, joy, patience, longsuffering, prophecy, omniscience, omnipotence, eternity, victory and LOVE. It is shared with those who imbibe the Spirit of Truth. It cannot be removed from them, for they are preparing for the wedding feast of Faithful and True, who laughed at that grave and rose to inhabit His eternal Kingdom. He prepared a place for His people to be with Him, because they have partaken in the unity of the Spirit of Truth with their Creator and Son. Their habitation is in the eternal, where He has built them mansions, removed their tears, and awarded them the new mantle of Life.

Down there, on the earth, they are still trying to bet on that soiled garment. Its once beautiful strands are now grimy with falsehood, shredded with misunderstanding, contorted into various theatrical guises, (the current play is Political Correctness and is thoroughly engineered and structured to cover all expediences, and is being heavily promoted and staged in every country in all major theatres) and are required uniform for the masses.

Roll up ladies and gentlemen, and place your bets

Grandmother, teacher, bushlover, horse-lover, gardener, poet , stirrer and passionate person, especially about Jesus.

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