LOOK ON MY WORKS 2

LOOK ON MY WORKS 2

[INTRO]

Creation is not simulation.

The grave is not a loading screen.

The Cross was not theatre.

And Christ did not rise as code.

[VERSE]

Creation is not simulation with religious wallpaper, creation is God giving being, not a programmer borrowing a machine, not a coder trapped in higher physics, not a cosmic developer with better RAM, but the self-existent Lord making all things from no prior warehouse, sustaining atoms, laws, minds, mathematics, matter, memory, breath, bone, time and the tongue that denies Him, so even the simulator, if he existed, would still be a creature asking why there is something instead of nothing,

that is why the Cross is not an aesthetic inside the simulation, not a symbol rendered for comfort, not a mythic patch to help human morale, the Son of God entered creation, took flesh, drank thirst, felt nails, bled blood, heard mockery, carried curse, died under Rome, entered a real grave, rose in a real body, and showed scars because resurrection is not escaping matter, resurrection is God reclaiming matter from death,

so look on my works, Silicon Valley, look on the cemeteries, look on the hospice curtains, look on the elderly staring through windows while youth worships mirrors, look on the hospitals where monitors preach mortality in green lines, look on the poor groaning under systems built by clever men, look on the rich explaining reality while the world they cannot save keeps burying its children,

look on the mother timing medicine by phone light, look on the cleaner mopping the ward while philosophers rename the floor, look on the refugee crossing water with one bag and no thesis, look on the worker smiling through pain because bills do not care about metaphysics, look on the child learning hunger before algebra, then tell them their world is maybe a rendered layer and watch how small the theory becomes beside the groan,

and ask why people would rather believe they are simulated than sinful, why a man can entertain ancestor worlds before he will repent, why “maybe it is all code” sounds clever but “you must be born again” sounds primitive, why hell becomes easier to call metaphor than sin becomes easier to confess, why the lake of fire offends the age that streams murder for entertainment and calls warning morbid,

fear is not a glitch, guilt is not a graphics artefact, grief is not bad rendering, death is not a loading screen, judgement is not a philosophical bug, and Jesus is not a character waking up inside the Matrix, He is the Logos before all matrices, the Creator before all code, the Light before all screens, the Life before all minds, the Judge before all theories, the Lamb slain for sinners who kept calling darkness an interesting hypothesis,

so if you want base reality, start at the empty tomb, start with scars no simulation argument can metabolise, start with apostles terrified into witness, start with the grave losing jurisdiction, start with the Word through whom all things were made walking out of death with creation’s receipt in His hands, start with Christ saying I am the resurrection and the life while cemeteries still wait for His voice,

because the question was never whether rich men can imagine better engines for unreality, the question is whether sinners can face the reality God already revealed, sin, death, judgement, hell, mercy, blood, resurrection, repentance, faith, new creation, the Book of Life, the narrow way, the King returning, the dead raised, the world judged, the earth made new,

look on my works and despair was Shelley’s warning to proud kings, but look on Christ’s wounds and repent is mercy’s invitation to dying men, your rendered kingdoms fade, your simulations need substrates, your arguments need borrowed minds, your computers need mined earth, your math needs upheld order, your breath needs God every second,

your servers need copper, your satellites need gravity, your rockets need chemistry, your screens need light, your models need language, your cleverness needs a mind you did not assemble, your body needs mercy while you sleep, and every borrowed system keeps testifying against the fantasy of independence, because nothing made itself, nothing sustains itself, nothing escapes the One who holds all things together,

and when the final screen goes black, Jesus Christ remains, not simulated, not speculative, not optional, not one theory among theories, but Lord over the groaning creation, Lord over the cemetery, Lord over hell, Lord over the lake, Lord over life, and He does not render escape, He raises the dead.