Today is the day that the creatures hang the Creator upon the cross; the effect kills the Cause; the subjects slay the King. Today is also the day that speech must turn to silence in order grasp the mystery of the death of God. Today is the day that sin takes its final strike at the heart of God in an attempt to usurp His throne completely. Today can be summed up by these words of Patrick F. Kirby:
They drove the hammered nails into his hands,
His hands that shaped the hot sun overhead;
Then all prepared to return to their own lands,
Glad in the knowledge God at last was dead.
“Now Babel can be built, and none deny!
In its cool gardens shall we take our ease;
Nor need we fear the everseeing eye,–
Our gods shall be whatever gods we please.
“Ishtar shall guard us, mother of all men,
And Bel rejoice us when the winds blow spiced
From Indus. Wine and song shall glad us then,–
We never loved this wistful, pallid Christ!”