The Immovable Object

This, the paradox:
What happens when
An irresistible force
Meets an immovable object?
 
This, the object:
With its hooded cloak
Torn from the bolt of night
And its Fall-forged scythe
The glint on the bent edge
Like the crescent of light
Waning to pitch
As the stone is rolled...
 
Death in all its rigidity
In the fixed wrinkle of rock
In the fetters of wrapped linen
In the stagnant musk of a tomb.
 
Then, the force:
Not energy but man
With evidence at hands and side
Not man alone but God
The I Am before Abraham
Raised, risen.
 
Resurrection in all its contrariety
The conquering of an undefeated victory
The healing of a fatal sting
The delivery of a barren grave.
 
Now, life:
Echo of Eden
A new inheritance
To those who believe.
 
That, our glorious hope!
That, the grand paradox!
The Irresistible Force
Met the immovable object
And it budged.