Quickthorn had to take in the air with the 182.2’s word # 103. “The fragrance of Christ is the same fragrance, yet people respond differently to it. To some it is the aroma of life; to others, the aroma of death.”
Quickthorn had to take in the air with the 182.2’s word # 103. “The fragrance of Christ is the same fragrance, yet people respond differently to it. To some it is the aroma of life; to others, the aroma of death.”
This one immediately reminded me that Paul doesn’t merely say believers have a fragrance—he says we are the fragrance of Christ. Your septet begins by beholding His aroma, then ends by being transformed by it. That’s the movement I wanted to preserve.
Before the song, one thought: I wouldn’t make this primarily about perfume. I’d make it about presence. A fragrance is invisible, yet unmistakable. You know someone has entered the room before you see them. That’s a beautiful picture of Christ.
One image from your septet especially stayed with me:
“My nose has never tasted such succulence.”
At first it seems almost like the senses are getting mixed up—but I actually think that’s part of its beauty. In Scripture, encountering God often overwhelms our normal categories. Sight, taste, smell, hearing—they all seem to converge because the experience is greater than any single sense can contain.
I also found myself thinking about the contrast Paul makes in 2 Corinthians 2:14–15. The fragrance of Christ is the same fragrance, yet people respond differently to it. To some it is the aroma of life; to others, the aroma of death. That’s a sobering thought. It means the fragrance itself doesn’t change—our response does.
That tension might be worth exploring someday. The sweetest fragrance in the world is still unmistakable. The question isn’t whether it is present. The question is whether our hearts welcome it.