The Recreation (An Easter Story)
(reprinted from Easter 2006, by the author)
The echo still resounded, "Let there be Light!" This Light beyond all light which transports the soul from the black of evil to the bright shine of goodly glory had come, had spilled all over the earth and over the hearts of men, exposing all, radiating all, loving all, burning all. Some seared souls arose against that Light and resolved themselves that this Light would have no part of them! They shook angry fists to the heavens from which that great Light shone; they spewed blasphemous rage. They sought to destroy the Light.
With a sigh, the Light absorbed their derision and rejection. The Light faded with the weight of infinite sorrow shrouding its glory moment by moment. At last, the very Daylight died. There was morning and there was evening: the first day.
Rage. The earth itself did tremble and rupture, and the dead began to crawl from their graves. Look! Look to the heavy curtain of the universe, veiling all things from the unapproachable Light which would consume them! The glorious Light, the Holy of holiest Light, which men could not enter lest they die--the marvelous Light did not kill the foolish trespassing Man, but true to the nature of Light, it only exposed the reality: that the trespassing Man was already dead! The curtain sways as all things slip into tumultuous darkness, heaving groaning despairing dark. The curtain sways, and suddenly is torn! Men avert their eyes, lest they too die...fall to their knees, grieving that they should stand so close to the Holy Room...and then they raise their eyes. They look, in faith, they look and can see as the Light wills them to see!
Silence elsewhere. Men strike hands in sinful pledges, women seduce, children revolt, parents despise, fathers abuse, mothers tantrum, sons lust, daughters envy. It is as any other day. There was morning and there was evening: the second day.
Night passes and begins to ebb away. A slow blue burns the edge of the horizon, burning itself into a watery light which creeps farther and farther heavenward, ascending as only the Light can ascend! At the same moment, watery tears yet fall from the cheeks of those precious few who loved the Light which left them two days hence. Will they be left alone in darkness? Darkness still within them, darkness all around--O, will the Sun also rise?
Unknown to them, the earth again moved--this time, but a single great boulder, a stone which stood before the shadowy cave. A hundred men who doubted the Light (but also doubted Death enough to stand as guards against the imperishable Light) look in awe for a moment and are struck down. They lie as though dead.
It is the breaking of the Dawn! Light passes among them, and among many more, thousands upon thousands more, Light passes among you and I...the Light burns on, loves on, restores on, proclaims on, satisfies on, sears on, frightens on, rages on! The Light remains and darkness cannot overwhelm Him! O God! What Light!
It was morning and it is forever morning: the Third Day.
The echo still resounded, "Let there be Light!" This Light beyond all light which transports the soul from the black of evil to the bright shine of goodly glory had come, had spilled all over the earth and over the hearts of men, exposing all, radiating all, loving all, burning all. Some seared souls arose against that Light and resolved themselves that this Light would have no part of them! They shook angry fists to the heavens from which that great Light shone; they spewed blasphemous rage. They sought to destroy the Light.
With a sigh, the Light absorbed their derision and rejection. The Light faded with the weight of infinite sorrow shrouding its glory moment by moment. At last, the very Daylight died. There was morning and there was evening: the first day.
Rage. The earth itself did tremble and rupture, and the dead began to crawl from their graves. Look! Look to the heavy curtain of the universe, veiling all things from the unapproachable Light which would consume them! The glorious Light, the Holy of holiest Light, which men could not enter lest they die--the marvelous Light did not kill the foolish trespassing Man, but true to the nature of Light, it only exposed the reality: that the trespassing Man was already dead! The curtain sways as all things slip into tumultuous darkness, heaving groaning despairing dark. The curtain sways, and suddenly is torn! Men avert their eyes, lest they too die...fall to their knees, grieving that they should stand so close to the Holy Room...and then they raise their eyes. They look, in faith, they look and can see as the Light wills them to see!
Silence elsewhere. Men strike hands in sinful pledges, women seduce, children revolt, parents despise, fathers abuse, mothers tantrum, sons lust, daughters envy. It is as any other day. There was morning and there was evening: the second day.
Night passes and begins to ebb away. A slow blue burns the edge of the horizon, burning itself into a watery light which creeps farther and farther heavenward, ascending as only the Light can ascend! At the same moment, watery tears yet fall from the cheeks of those precious few who loved the Light which left them two days hence. Will they be left alone in darkness? Darkness still within them, darkness all around--O, will the Sun also rise?
Unknown to them, the earth again moved--this time, but a single great boulder, a stone which stood before the shadowy cave. A hundred men who doubted the Light (but also doubted Death enough to stand as guards against the imperishable Light) look in awe for a moment and are struck down. They lie as though dead.
It is the breaking of the Dawn! Light passes among them, and among many more, thousands upon thousands more, Light passes among you and I...the Light burns on, loves on, restores on, proclaims on, satisfies on, sears on, frightens on, rages on! The Light remains and darkness cannot overwhelm Him! O God! What Light!
It was morning and it is forever morning: the Third Day.
Comments