What is it to meditate on Christ?

What is it to meditate on Christ? I think it is to meditate on the extreme hermeneuticism. The Word and the interpretation of the Word is the primary thing when it comes to Christ. Setting aside time for the Christ is setting aside time for the Word, and for the power of the Word in all the spheres of our lives. There is a way in which every other avenue of interpreting our world, save through the Word itself, distances and alienates us from the world, since it is not rooted in nondescriminatory love the way the Word is. Love and creative power. When you hear the Word of Christ in all their mesmerizing insanity, stripped of all the insanity of human ingenuity and manipulation, human neurosis and the human's inability to listen, you are faced with just that: a Word that is loving and affirms the whole and at the same time brings this whole into being. A Word at one with power and deed at the same time as it is one with the powerlessness of every contingency, the powerlessness of empyting itself into the slightest, into the very last detail of a choasmos we find so hard to love. Listening is the only virtue we need to enter into this power and to participate in this powerlessness. For listening and the openness of listening already show a love for what is revealed in every particular provisional phrase and interpretation and world of the human. The rest follows in accord with this open love. As Augustine said, Love, and do what you will. So listen, and do what you will. When we meditate on the Word, what follows is the same world or all the plurality of worlds we had so much trouble, so much agony in affirming before. Only now there is an openness surrounding them, an openness such as that shaped by quality breathing, an openness in which every dot and tittle may flourish and may come to its completion. A completion not like our fantasies of a world at its end, where all things are called to account and explain themselves. No, rather a completion that brings each thing to the highest intensity of its faith as well as of its doubts, of its belonging as well as of its perennial homelessness. This Word of Christ's is the in-between itself and the medium on which all of our worlds and delusions of worlds are painted. It is an end to all other gods only because it allows them space for leisure and for play, and space in which to distance themselves from the dreadfulness of ruling the world, or over countless worlds, alone. The Word gives us wings like the angel and like Hermes, but also flesh and all the forsaken conditionality of flesh. To meditate on Christ is to meditate on our flesh--our winged flesh. The hermeneutic path we take with Christ is indeed like "the angels of heaven ascending and descending on the Son of Man."