Bread and Honey

What is an offering without sacrifice?

Can there be dew upon the morning’s grass shining in the light without the night that precedes it?

Is there a rainbow without rain? A flood without a covenant?

Where do we find salvation if not through the blood?

Though the answers bring truth, we love our sweet nothings.

Our treacly treat intended for bread and eaten as a dessert, labored by the bee and practical when preferred,

And still rejected upon the Old Testament altar when placed upon the offering. 

What we speak of is honey. 

Oh, but sweetness, as delectable as it is, has a result that brings an offensive smell to the nostrils of the almighty. 

When placed on the fire, honey cannot stand; it burns to a smoldering tar, black as sin.

Though saccharine, it is incomparable to Frankincense, the same as a grassy trail does not teach as much as one of the thorns. 

The sacrifice, not the sweetness, savors the offering; the blood, not the beauty, salts salvation.

There was once eternal life before we were given death. In Eden, there was grass where there are now thorns.

Once, we walked with God; now, we walk with serpents. The sacrifice is presented as it was then; the choice is still ours.

The sweet savour is not seen in the pleasantries of honey but in the meat placed within the fire.

Though God can take nothing and turn it into something, something should not be content with Giving God nothing.  

We find our sweetness in our crisis, not in the lack thereof. In our sacrifice, laying down our lives, through thorn and thistle, and the trodding of serpents, we will please God.

Forget the false sacrament of bread and honey, for in the promised land, we will have more than enough for all.