The True Epic
We’ve all said it, and we all will probably continue to say it. We even fight for it, making a point of saying it and refusing the more politically correct “happy holidays”. But somehow, when I reflect on what we’re celebrating, “Merry Christmas” somehow falls flat, pales, and seems incredibly trite.
I know I said something very similar last year in my article “Trite Religiosity”, but it’s been really coming home to me lately as I reflect on this amazing event that we celebrate this time of year.
Allow me a feeble attempt at summarizing the situation on that celebrated night over 2,000 years ago:
In the earliest age of men, still shivering in the cold shadow of the Great Fall, a promise burned brightly in the hearts of the first man to walk the earth and the mother of all living. The Almighty Creator Himself had given it; the promise of a Deliverer. The Great One Who would recover the dominion that they had so recently surrendered to the devious fiend who had taken the body of a serpent in order to usher in his own diabolical oppression.
Even as the memory of the recent horrible banishment drew tears from the eyes of Eve, this hope burned brightly as she wondered if the infant now moving in her womb could be the Promised One!
Generations passed and that promise of deliverance remained a future hope. Entire peoples were wiped out in a terrifying display of God’s wrath, and the corrupted flesh that resulted from the intermarriage with the Elder Race was thoroughly destroyed, leaving only one man, his wife, his three sons, and their wives, to replenish the earth and await the Great Deliverer.
Men gathered together and determined to attain the glory and power of the heavens, mirroring the desires of the Great Fiend who still moved among them with his hordes of The Fallen, seeking to thwart this new race of men and bring them to the same fate as those of the Elder Race who had followed him into rebellion in the previous age.
God again intervened, dividing the race of men and scattering them across the earth.
And still the Promise remained a future hope.
The Almighty visited Abraham and called him out from among his people, leading him into a new land, and striking a covenant that would manifest itself and define the course of history for thousands of years to come! New prophesies joined the old one, telling of the lineage that was to produce the Promised King!
Nations arose and fell. The Fiend reared his ugly head again and again, spreading his own hideous evil across the land that God had once called “very good”.
Still the prophecies remained, disregarded at times by the Chosen People as they rebelled and turned to the Prince of Darkness, repenting and seeing glorious deliverance after judgment, only to turn time and time again to darkness.
The Prophesied One had not yet appeared.
Generations passed, hundreds of thousands, even millions of men and women died still cherishing the hope that one day, the Deliverer would come! The Great Atonement would restore man to his proper fellowship with the Almighty Creator, and light would again spread over the land so scarred for so many years by the disfiguring terror of darkness.
The Almighty sent yet more prophecies to add to the now ancient one He uttered in the earliest days of mankind. These new prophecies were wonderful, baffling at times, and steeped in the mystery of a glimpse into the unknown age ahead.
The Chosen People finally began to fall away into oblivion, the few remaining finding themselves subjected to the tyranny of a ruthless empire after sadistic despot.
Yet the hope of the Prophecies’ fulfillment still burned in the hearts of the faithful, flickering weakly like a candle in a drafty room filled otherwise with the darkness of night.
God had not spoken with man in four hundred years. The force of oppression has ground the Remnant into the dust. Although the hope still flickered in the hearts of many, it now seemed more distant than ever.
Until that one day. She was young, but no longer a child. She now anticipated marriage to a carpenter. She would bear him children, strive to be his helpmeet as he strove to provide for her and protect her from the harshest evidences of the ever-present oppression of the occupying empire. She saw her life playing out before her as the lives of countless other women before her, with few variations. The politics and intrigue would rage around her, giving rise to wars perhaps, and new oppressions.
That life, the normal, quiet life that she had always envisioned, had come to a spectacular end that day. One of the Elder Race had come to visit her. The words he spoke, the message he bore from God, they spun her world upside down. The four-hundred-year-old silence from the Almighty had been broken some few months before, with a promise reminiscent of the one made to an aged Abraham and his barren wife!
Now this messenger was telling the young bride-to-be that she—a virgin—was to give birth to the long-awaited Deliverer! The Great King! The ancient Prophecy was to be fulfilled, and she was to be the vessel that would bring Him into the world! The very Son of God!
The culmination of roughly four thousand years of hope in the promises of God! It was to come to fruition now! Mary would not merely live to see this great Messiah, she would be the vessel by which He would appear on earth!
In spite of the tremendous shock at this news, she had given the reply of the faithful. “Behold, the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”
Shame followed as those she held dearest accused her of breaking her vow of purity; fear and grief bore down upon her as the man to whom she was promised prepared to put her away. Then tears of joy when he told her that he too had received the wonderful tidings!
The decree had come as yet another disruption, a journey to be undertaken at the worst of times. The small town of Bethlehem was ill equipped for the large numbers of travelers, and they were forced to seek refuge in the abode of beasts.
Now she lays in the filthy straw, dripping with perspiration and gasping for breath after the travail of childbirth, her husband by her side.
In her young arms she cradles the precious infant. This is He. The One Whose coming has been prophesied for four thousand years! The King of Kings! Emmanuel! The Messiah! The Christ! He was finally here!
The intrigue that would follow, the wars that would be fought, the mighty tide of human history had just changed forever. The world would never be the same. The Fiend cringes as the Son of Man lays in the feeding trough of beasts. This was the One who would raise the banner of light and push back the darkness!
And we say “Merry Christmas”?
See what I mean? It just doesn’t seem to cover it.
More than two thousand years later, we measure time itself by the arrival on this earth of Jesus Christ. He is still the single most disruptive, controversial, and inspiring figure to have ever walked this earth.
Later this week we’re having some friends over to watch the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy. It has gained a place in our culture today because of its wonderful tale of good triumphing over evil according to ancient prophecies. How many of us grew up loving this type of tale, wishing that we lived in such a wonderful world, taking our part in a battle of such epic scale?
We do. Only our world, our struggle, our epic history and future, far surpasses anything that Tolkien or any other man could come up with!
This is the time of year when we celebrate the fulfillment of hundreds of ancient prophecies in a thoroughly miraculous manner. We have the amazing history of what happened afterward as well as the wonderful remaining prophecy; that the precious infant who laid in that feeding trough and later offered his own blood as atonement for our willful treachery is coming back in full armament and glory to lead His forces on to victory and put the finishing touches on the stunning defeat of that ancient Fiend who still frantically terrorizes the earth today, clutching with all he has at every chance he can to wreak havoc and do as much damage as he can in his retreat!
So for right now, you’ll forgive me if I don’t close this article with the “traditional seasons’ greeting”, and instead make an imperfect attempt to find something that comes a little closer to communicating the wonder, the majesty, the mystery and glory of Christ’s arrival on earth.
Hail the Almighty King of Kings!
I know I said something very similar last year in my article “Trite Religiosity”, but it’s been really coming home to me lately as I reflect on this amazing event that we celebrate this time of year.
Allow me a feeble attempt at summarizing the situation on that celebrated night over 2,000 years ago:
In the earliest age of men, still shivering in the cold shadow of the Great Fall, a promise burned brightly in the hearts of the first man to walk the earth and the mother of all living. The Almighty Creator Himself had given it; the promise of a Deliverer. The Great One Who would recover the dominion that they had so recently surrendered to the devious fiend who had taken the body of a serpent in order to usher in his own diabolical oppression.
Even as the memory of the recent horrible banishment drew tears from the eyes of Eve, this hope burned brightly as she wondered if the infant now moving in her womb could be the Promised One!
Generations passed and that promise of deliverance remained a future hope. Entire peoples were wiped out in a terrifying display of God’s wrath, and the corrupted flesh that resulted from the intermarriage with the Elder Race was thoroughly destroyed, leaving only one man, his wife, his three sons, and their wives, to replenish the earth and await the Great Deliverer.
Men gathered together and determined to attain the glory and power of the heavens, mirroring the desires of the Great Fiend who still moved among them with his hordes of The Fallen, seeking to thwart this new race of men and bring them to the same fate as those of the Elder Race who had followed him into rebellion in the previous age.
God again intervened, dividing the race of men and scattering them across the earth.
And still the Promise remained a future hope.
The Almighty visited Abraham and called him out from among his people, leading him into a new land, and striking a covenant that would manifest itself and define the course of history for thousands of years to come! New prophesies joined the old one, telling of the lineage that was to produce the Promised King!
Nations arose and fell. The Fiend reared his ugly head again and again, spreading his own hideous evil across the land that God had once called “very good”.
Still the prophecies remained, disregarded at times by the Chosen People as they rebelled and turned to the Prince of Darkness, repenting and seeing glorious deliverance after judgment, only to turn time and time again to darkness.
The Prophesied One had not yet appeared.
Generations passed, hundreds of thousands, even millions of men and women died still cherishing the hope that one day, the Deliverer would come! The Great Atonement would restore man to his proper fellowship with the Almighty Creator, and light would again spread over the land so scarred for so many years by the disfiguring terror of darkness.
The Almighty sent yet more prophecies to add to the now ancient one He uttered in the earliest days of mankind. These new prophecies were wonderful, baffling at times, and steeped in the mystery of a glimpse into the unknown age ahead.
The Chosen People finally began to fall away into oblivion, the few remaining finding themselves subjected to the tyranny of a ruthless empire after sadistic despot.
Yet the hope of the Prophecies’ fulfillment still burned in the hearts of the faithful, flickering weakly like a candle in a drafty room filled otherwise with the darkness of night.
God had not spoken with man in four hundred years. The force of oppression has ground the Remnant into the dust. Although the hope still flickered in the hearts of many, it now seemed more distant than ever.
Until that one day. She was young, but no longer a child. She now anticipated marriage to a carpenter. She would bear him children, strive to be his helpmeet as he strove to provide for her and protect her from the harshest evidences of the ever-present oppression of the occupying empire. She saw her life playing out before her as the lives of countless other women before her, with few variations. The politics and intrigue would rage around her, giving rise to wars perhaps, and new oppressions.
That life, the normal, quiet life that she had always envisioned, had come to a spectacular end that day. One of the Elder Race had come to visit her. The words he spoke, the message he bore from God, they spun her world upside down. The four-hundred-year-old silence from the Almighty had been broken some few months before, with a promise reminiscent of the one made to an aged Abraham and his barren wife!
Now this messenger was telling the young bride-to-be that she—a virgin—was to give birth to the long-awaited Deliverer! The Great King! The ancient Prophecy was to be fulfilled, and she was to be the vessel that would bring Him into the world! The very Son of God!
The culmination of roughly four thousand years of hope in the promises of God! It was to come to fruition now! Mary would not merely live to see this great Messiah, she would be the vessel by which He would appear on earth!
In spite of the tremendous shock at this news, she had given the reply of the faithful. “Behold, the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word.”
Shame followed as those she held dearest accused her of breaking her vow of purity; fear and grief bore down upon her as the man to whom she was promised prepared to put her away. Then tears of joy when he told her that he too had received the wonderful tidings!
The decree had come as yet another disruption, a journey to be undertaken at the worst of times. The small town of Bethlehem was ill equipped for the large numbers of travelers, and they were forced to seek refuge in the abode of beasts.
Now she lays in the filthy straw, dripping with perspiration and gasping for breath after the travail of childbirth, her husband by her side.
In her young arms she cradles the precious infant. This is He. The One Whose coming has been prophesied for four thousand years! The King of Kings! Emmanuel! The Messiah! The Christ! He was finally here!
The intrigue that would follow, the wars that would be fought, the mighty tide of human history had just changed forever. The world would never be the same. The Fiend cringes as the Son of Man lays in the feeding trough of beasts. This was the One who would raise the banner of light and push back the darkness!
And we say “Merry Christmas”?
See what I mean? It just doesn’t seem to cover it.
More than two thousand years later, we measure time itself by the arrival on this earth of Jesus Christ. He is still the single most disruptive, controversial, and inspiring figure to have ever walked this earth.
Later this week we’re having some friends over to watch the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy. It has gained a place in our culture today because of its wonderful tale of good triumphing over evil according to ancient prophecies. How many of us grew up loving this type of tale, wishing that we lived in such a wonderful world, taking our part in a battle of such epic scale?
We do. Only our world, our struggle, our epic history and future, far surpasses anything that Tolkien or any other man could come up with!
This is the time of year when we celebrate the fulfillment of hundreds of ancient prophecies in a thoroughly miraculous manner. We have the amazing history of what happened afterward as well as the wonderful remaining prophecy; that the precious infant who laid in that feeding trough and later offered his own blood as atonement for our willful treachery is coming back in full armament and glory to lead His forces on to victory and put the finishing touches on the stunning defeat of that ancient Fiend who still frantically terrorizes the earth today, clutching with all he has at every chance he can to wreak havoc and do as much damage as he can in his retreat!
So for right now, you’ll forgive me if I don’t close this article with the “traditional seasons’ greeting”, and instead make an imperfect attempt to find something that comes a little closer to communicating the wonder, the majesty, the mystery and glory of Christ’s arrival on earth.
Hail the Almighty King of Kings!
posted by David B. Thompson | 1:43 AM
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