Whether a Christian enjoys high church, low church, or something in between, aesthetics in the Church are not about any one individual person and their particular tastes. Aesthetics are, fundamentally, not a matter of legalism, but of edification—that the Gospel of Christ might be preached and taught to all peoples, unhindered by its medium.
Let us live by walking with Jesus, so that our Neo-Pagan neighbors, the witch, and frankly a lot of us Christians, can put down our crystals, our superstitions, our vision boards, and our bound sage in order to live out a liturgy of life, with rituals, practices, and behaviors that reflect who we are as followers of Christ.
As Jesus hung on the cross there would be no last second escape. No Greek goddess would swoop in to rescue him. He suffered alone. And yet even in that suffering he declared his victory on the spiritual battlefield to be your victory.

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Betrayed. It is a word which chills the soul and sickens the stomach. To be betrayed is to have a friend turn on you, treating you as an enemy.
Great things are contained in these seemingly unimportant words: "Behold, your king." Such boundless gifts are brought by this poor and despised king.
The image on Palm Sunday is about something so primordial, so powerful and ancient, so deep, that it would shatter any kind of limits. It would break through any attempt to restrain it.
All human wisdom, righteousness, and holiness are made futile in that which belongs to God’s kingdom.
Who we are buried with matters. But there is no need to go out and find a dead prophet so you can join him six feet under.
The promise here is that God is present with us in our troubles, issuing commands to save us before we ask. God does not ignore our suffering and cries.
This living Word breaks and crushes. It comes down as crushing judgment on those who reject the Son. But it promises to heal and restore all those who fall on the Son broken, contrite, and in faith.
The Word of the Lord is sure. The enemy is defeated. Salvation is waiting for you.
“Come join the murder,” the black ravens of his heart cried. “Come join it again, old friend.” And so he did. The prodigal relapsed. Re-sinned. Re-destroyed his life. Would his father welcome him home this time?
The thrill of God’s grace fades and the slow march toward the cross dulls the heart. At such times, the former life beckons. Temptations to return grow strong. Which makes Lent such an important annual exercise.
You can die now, you can let go, and because that is true, you can begin to live!
God is not a preoccupied parent, he’s an invested and interested tender loving Father. He values what perplexes us.