The Gentiles outside the walls are ragged, hungry, and wretched. They are people without a country, without a place to belong. They have no promise of a better life—they have no hope.
Within the walls are the Jews, God’s chosen people. They rest at ease within their fortifications of commandments and ordinances. The Gentiles outside resent them for their lofty airs. They look well-fed and purposeful, but inside they are empty. Their hearts are proud, but though they will not admit it, they are not satisfied. They are actually as hopeless as the wretches who huddle outside the camp.
A Man comes to those within, walks among them, shares His truth. He makes them realize the emptiness of their lives. He upsets the security of their exclusive kingdom, and they reject Him. They trample Him underfoot, and His blood stains the stones of the courtyard—the stones which are labeled with the names of the apostles and prophets.
The blood runs to the wall that circles the kingdom. It soaks through the cracks and begins to crumble the mortar. The dividing wall is coming down. Our Savior appears on the wall, very much alive. He tears at the stones with His bleeding hands, and the stones crumble at His touch. The breach becomes wider, and we are given access to the Kingdom.
We stream into the courtyard in wonder, gazing at the new world opened to us. When we look back at the wall that has been broken down for our entrance, we see that the master builder has been busily constructing another. The stones are precisely fitted together, with Christ himself becoming the cornerstone, the crowning piece at the top, which holds it all together. We who were far off have come near.