#5 Holy Wit – Sidecar Reflections
Behold Your King: Christ in the Old Testament – Psalm 110
The One Who Never Hands You Off
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He had learned the pattern early.
You explain your situation once. Carefully. Politely. With just enough honesty to be taken seriously but not enough to make anyone uncomfortable. The person across the desk nods, makes notes, assures you they understand — and then, inevitably, says the phrase that means everything is about to reset.
“I’ll need to pass this along.”
Different office.
Different person.
Same story — told again, slightly more tired this time.
By the third retelling, the problem feels heavier, not because it has grown, but because you have to carry it from hand to hand. No one is hostile. Everyone means well. But no one stays with it long enough to see it through.
That’s when Psalm 110:4 begins to sound less poetic and more startling:
“You are a priest forever.”
Forever means no handoff.
No rotation.
No shift change.
No, “Let me introduce you to someone else who can help with that.”
The Levitical priests did their work faithfully. They truly did. But even at their best, they had to step aside. They aged. They died. Their work continued, but they did not. The system moved forward by replacement.
Christ does not.
Melchizedek blesses Abraham and disappears. Aaron’s sons serve and are buried. But Christ stands — not because He refuses to leave, but because there is no reason for Him to.
No one else needs to be brought in.
Which means when you come to God — with the same confession again, the same weakness, the same failure you thought you’d outgrown — you are not explaining it to someone new. You are not reopening a case file that has gone cold.
The Priest already knows it.
He was there the first time.
He is there this time.
He will be there when you are too tired to explain it properly.
That’s what “once for all” actually feels like on the ground.
Not dramatic.
Not flashy.
Just mercifully uninterrupted.
Christ does not save you and then assign you a number.
He does not forgive you and then forward the request.
He does not intercede and then step away to let someone else manage the follow-up.
He stays.
And for people who have spent their lives being passed along — misunderstood, delayed, rescheduled — that may be the quietest and strongest mercy of all.
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#HolyWitSidecar #GordonMcGinnis #ChristInTheOldTestament #Psalm110
#5 Holy Wit – Sidecar Reflections Behold Your King: Christ in the Old Testament – Psalm 110 The One Who Never Hands You Off ________________________________________ He had learned the pattern early. You explain your situation once. Carefully. Politely. With just enough honesty to be taken seriously but not enough to make anyone uncomfortable. The person across the desk nods, makes notes, assures you they understand — and then, inevitably, says the phrase that means everything is about to reset. “I’ll need to pass this along.” Different office. Different person. Same story — told again, slightly more tired this time. By the third retelling, the problem feels heavier, not because it has grown, but because you have to carry it from hand to hand. No one is hostile. Everyone means well. But no one stays with it long enough to see it through. That’s when Psalm 110:4 begins to sound less poetic and more startling: “You are a priest forever.” Forever means no handoff. No rotation. No shift change. No, “Let me introduce you to someone else who can help with that.” The Levitical priests did their work faithfully. They truly did. But even at their best, they had to step aside. They aged. They died. Their work continued, but they did not. The system moved forward by replacement. Christ does not. Melchizedek blesses Abraham and disappears. Aaron’s sons serve and are buried. But Christ stands — not because He refuses to leave, but because there is no reason for Him to. No one else needs to be brought in. Which means when you come to God — with the same confession again, the same weakness, the same failure you thought you’d outgrown — you are not explaining it to someone new. You are not reopening a case file that has gone cold. The Priest already knows it. He was there the first time. He is there this time. He will be there when you are too tired to explain it properly. That’s what “once for all” actually feels like on the ground. Not dramatic. Not flashy. Just mercifully uninterrupted. Christ does not save you and then assign you a number. He does not forgive you and then forward the request. He does not intercede and then step away to let someone else manage the follow-up. He stays. And for people who have spent their lives being passed along — misunderstood, delayed, rescheduled — that may be the quietest and strongest mercy of all. ________________________________________ #HolyWitSidecar #GordonMcGinnis #ChristInTheOldTestament #Psalm110
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