The Distance Between East and West

Picture this: a man standing in an open field, holding a piece of cloth — deep scarlet, the colour of something that cannot be undone. He has carried it a long time. You can see it in the way he holds it. Heavy. Familiar. Shameful.

And then a voice comes. Not a shout. Quiet, almost. *Come now, let us reason together* (Isaiah 1:18). Not a summons to court. An invitation to a conversation. And the cloth in his hands — watch it. The scarlet draining out. White as snow. Soft as wool.

Can you see it?

Consider what is happening here. This is not a transaction. This is not a debt restructured. This is *redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his grace* (Ephesians 1:7). Riches. Not a careful, measured release. An extravagant one.

And then imagine the distance. East to west. Not north to south — those have poles, endpoints, places where they meet. East and west never meet. *So far hath he removed our transgressions from us* (Psalm 103:12). Gone in a direction that has no end.

Who does this? *Who is a God like unto thee, that pardoneth iniquity* (Micah 7:18) — who delights in mercy, who does not hold the anger forever?

That man in the field, cloth gone white, standing lighter than he has stood in years.

That man is you.

And now — who are you still holding in debt?