Today I moved one step closer to the conclusion of the Eskaton album project.  The signature track is titled Eskaton.  I love the way this song worked out.  I felt express inpiration even in the midst of recording.  When the music swells it calls to mind the ultimate victory of God, reminds me of his myriad little victories in daily life along the way, and always brings me to tears.

Eskaton is a folksy reflection berthed in a season in which chaos was stopped, a true Sabbath moment with no deadlines pressing, or ultimatums looming.  It yielded hope of the peace age to come.  The word Eschaton speaks of last things.  It is the endless era in which Jesus' dominion is irrevocably actuated.

Hans Schwarz writes in his Eschatology, "Lasting hope cannot come from within us.  Though we can always achieve temporary victories in pursuing our future, ultimately death will stare us in the face.  When we give account of the hope that is in us, we can only do so because it has been placed in us from beyond our time-bound world.  A tenable hope for the future cannot rest on us but must be warranted by the God who created the world, sustains it, and will redeem it."

Compositionally, Eskaton images the Stride Strummer as he walks into the Shire of Sound with his Slide Whistle dangling from the tattered rope around his neck.  As he propositions the first cottage it appears the Soprano of Saxony will venture out, but he quickly ducks back inside.  However, it is only a temporary respite to retrieve his rhythm guests who now emerge to join the song.  From across the the cobble path, Trump of Mute hints participation.  And once Clari of Improv knods, the entire village decides to come out and play.  The Winds of Trill blow accenting the climb to the apex of the hamlet's border, rising and rising to the climax.  Now, simplicity settles, resolve rests, enter eternal age.  This piece models the epochs reaching their culmination in Christ.