Not with a Whimper, but with a Trumpet
From the pathways of destruction to the promise of a new heaven and a new earth
Fumbling through the index cards of memory, I am reminded again and again of the reality of grace—interrupting my grim and foolish pathways to destruction on countless occasions, and in one decisive moment rescuing me from the eternal freefall of unbelief.
“For the LORD knows the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked will perish.” (Ps. 1:6)
“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.” (Matt. 7:13–14)
The Long Road
There is a long road, traveled slowly at first, almost knowingly, but eventually walked thoughtlessly. By the time one reaches the threshold of its end, there is an overwhelming impulse—an inevitability—to step through the thin veil that separates yesterday from tomorrow, the present from the rest of existence.
Yet there is another door. This one has stairs—steep, many, difficult. Still, it is an escape, an offramp. The other way is not a door but a bridge-out, a collapse into irreversible sorrow. Even if by grace one were saved from the fall, the event has happened, and its consequences necessarily follow (Heb. 9:27).
The Decision
In one sense, life is simple. It is simple when we choose rightly. But when the whole matrix of good and evil, spiritual forces, and hidden desires stretch before us, the choices do not appear simple at all (Eph. 6:12).
It begins with small things.
“Do I skip the approval protocols and just get this thing done myself?”?
Do I take a second look, a third glance, though I know it is not pure? (Matt. 5:28).
Do I allow my insecurities to fuel a sarcastic word against a faithful friend?
The glance, the jest, the sarcasm—so small, yet each is an on-ramp to the highway of destruction (Jas. 3:5–6). And while the “wide way” may appear harmless at first, it moves one forward with the inertia of sin’s momentum (Matt. 7:13). Newton’s laws seem almost to conspire with our spiritual laws: inertia, force, reaction. Grace provides offramps, yes, but the traveler hardly notices them. By the time he does, the last offramp is already in the rearview mirror.
What began with a stolen look or a cutting word grows into a black hole of the soul, devouring temporary gratifications, bending time and meaning until one is drawn to the chasm (Rom. 1:21–24).
The Final Step
To deny the obvious is not just a mistake—it is deadly. We suspend judgment to satisfy our longings: the longing to rule ourselves, to be our own master, to resist God (Gen. 3:4–6). Every warning light flashes. Every gracious exit beckons. Yet, blinded, we walk on.
At the precipice, our eyes feast on the object of desire. “No one will stop me now,” we think. And we etch epigraphs for our own crypt in casual words:
“There are at least three genders.”
“I cannot say what a woman is.”
“Just this once won’t hurt.”
“Your place or mine?”
“No more testing—just get it out there.”
Then comes Hemingway’s cadence: “gradually, then suddenly.”
And Eliot’s counterpoint: “This is the way the world ends, not with a bang but a whimper.”
And it is over—or so it seems.
The Unlikely Hope
One would think that after so many warnings, after every offramp ignored, there could be no hope. But chance is not the right word—grace is (Eph. 2:4–5).
“As for you, you were dead in your trespasses and sins… but God, being rich in mercy… made us alive together with Christ” (Eph. 2:1, 4–5).
Even in freefall, even as the soul plummets through the tunnel of terror, there are branches on the cliffside—tokens of redemption. The Branch of David. The Root of Jesse (Isa. 11:1). The bronze serpent lifted high (Num. 21:9; John 3:14–15). To look is to be healed. To lift up your eyes to the One lifted high is to live.
But the story does not end in a whimper. The pathway that once led to destruction is finally overtaken by the highway of holiness (Isa. 35:8). The chasm is bridged once and for all by the cross.
Here is the great reversal, the glorious coda:
“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away… He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21:1, 4).
The final chasm, carved by sin and disobedience throwing shadows over all our lives, is now crossed once and forevermore. The trembling soul, once stumbling toward destruction, is welcomed home with songs of salvation.
And so the pathway ends—not in the whimper of despair, not in the silence of annihilation—but in the trumpet of heaven’s victory:
“Blessing and glory and wisdom and thanksgiving and honor and power and might be to our God forever and ever! Amen” (Rev. 7:12).
And so the roads stretch before us.
Pastoral Note
I must confess my own frailty. The disease I carry makes one day good and the next day difficult. Its unpredictable nature compounds life’s complexities and humbles me daily. Yet is this not true for all of us? Each life bears weaknesses of one kind or another, and each heart knows its own hidden burdens.
Even so, I cling to God’s grace. And as I do, I am compelled by my pastoral duty to offer that same grace to you. Repent and believe, for the kingdom of God is at hand (Mark 1:15). Turn and receive the strong arm of the Redeemer, pulling you up from the mire of your own making (Ps. 40:2). Look up and be healed, as those who gazed upon the bronze serpent in the wilderness (Num. 21:9). Believe, and receive the forgiveness of sins and the righteousness you cannot produce yourself (Phil. 3:9).
This is my prayer for you: that your pathway would not end in despair, but in the trumpet call of salvation and the eternal embrace of Christ. For after all, it is grace that gets us home.
Lyrics
Down the road
A young man starts to travel
'Thinks he knows the way that he should go
But his suitcase, packed with dreams of freedom
Is not enough to get him down the road.
Down the road
He'll have to do some thinking
Where the road he's on begins to wind
Too much baggage starts to weigh him down
And for the first time, he thinks of what's behind.
You see, I know that road very well.
I have traveled that hard road myself.
And I curse the lie that led me off to roam.
But I thank the Lord for grace that got me home.
Yes, I thank the Lord for grace to get me home.
Words and Music © 2005 Copyright by Michael Anthony Milton (Bethesda Music Group, BMI).