He was the King. From all eternity he was absolute ruler
over all things – the one who was in control. Nothing existed except what he
willed and spoke into existence, and all things were dependent on him. And it
was his good pleasure to create the world, and when he created the world, a
world which he declared to be very good, full of rich green forests, deep
rivers and springing grasslands, he added one more thing – freedom! He could
have created a world that was completely as he willed it, without a thought or
action anywhere outside of his sovereign control, but, even with the
foreknowledge of what it would cost, he chose something very different, and
declared it to be good. And this was the morning of the world, shining clear
and beautiful.
But the clouds gathered and the world became dark. The man
and the woman used their freedom to turn away from his love into darkness and
death, and his beautiful world became a grim and painful place, full of thorns
and thistles and bitter labour. And his children walked away from him, and
continued to walk further away, into nightmare and horror. But still he
sustained the world in being, and the sun shone and the rain fell, and blessing
and promise took root even in the midst of their misery. And some sought to
turn back towards him, and follow the hope and the promise, but others saw no
substance in promises, and preferred the solid earth beneath their feet to the
hope of an unseen land. But even the best of them could not overcome the
darkness and destruction of death to get there.
And the centuries passed, and the long sorrow that men call
history unfolded, and there was no relief from darkness except the promise that
still hovered there. But the King had no intention of leaving them desolate, so
when the appointed hour arrived, he came into their world himself, not in his might
and overwhelming majesty , not to take control, as he could so easily have
done; but he came as one of them, as the least of them – he came as a tiny
child. And most disregarded him.
The years passed and he grew to manhood, and he was not as
other men (for all power and authority was his) and yet he was as other men,
with no beauty or riches, splendour or prestige to distinguish him. He spoke
truth into their confusion, and lovingly healed the hurting and the broken; yet
many hated him for his love and truth demanded that they change. And he, the
king from all eternity, let them take control, and surrendered himself into the
hands of his enemies, and they decided to destroy him. So they went through a
kind of legal proceeding, for they prided themselves that they were a civilised
people, and, having duly sentenced him to death, they proceeded to kill him in
the most barbarous way that they knew. And he surrendered to every pain, horror
and indignity and did not resist them, even though there were legions of angels
ready to obey the least of his commands.
And he surrendered to death and hell, and they buried his
body and imagined they were free. But there, in a deep mystery beyond human
understanding, he overcame death and hell, and they had to surrender to him.
For he was in control the entire time, and bent all things unto his will, so
that there should be nothing in all creation that could separate his children
from his love.
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