Heaven Reaches Down to Earth

There is a thread woven into the hearts of men connecting us together in a rather malevolent way. The glimmers of it appeared in the glint of the fruit as a newly formed hand reaches for forbidden knowledge. Whispered into that celestial mind were notes that have dwelt in the hearts of men since its dawn, “You will be like God.” It is this melody that is the engine for all the suffering, misery, and death in the world. At the moment it was uttered and believed, the foundations of the garden soul were shaken and the world began to turn upside down.

This melody continued into the offspring of man, slowly warping their garden soul into wilderness, drying up the very image it was meant to reflect. Cain, denying the tree that they had left behind, grabbed that jagged stone to slay his brother. Through this denial of life, he wielded the power of death, in order to reform the world into his image. He then left to build a city.

When what was a whisper grew into a shout, echoing throughout the hollowed bodies of those who descended from the first city, the seas rose and conquered all but one, a son of Abel, set adrift upon that ocean current. As the seas rose, so did he, raising him higher and higher until he could reach out and touch the hand of God. Once the land dried, he planted a garden.

Though… not even the roar of the seas could drown the shouts, for his descendants believed themselves to shine like the stars. Seeking to be like God, with bricks and tar, they began building a tower reaching into the heavens. And, as the greatest among them scaled the tower, they found that the music of their song changed. No longer could husband and wife scheme of power, for their song sung of their demise. Earth was not meant to reach up to heaven. So, Babel was no more.

The sons of Babel continued to sing a broken song as the ashes of Babel were formed into the civilizations of old. During this time, many descendants of Abel were born into this world, pointing to a radiant beauty that lay ahead, but the jealousy of Cain wrote the story of their demise as each city rose and fell. One such son, whose claim was to be the least wise in the city, was shown to possess the ancient wisdom of the son of David. His wisdom flowed back into time, connecting to the streams that flowed from the garden, springing forth life in abundance. His questions were his answers and his tongue was his sword. Though, in the end, no matter how sharp his blade, he could not defend himself against the schemes of men, men reaching into heaven and calling down divine judgment. For when they reached up, they gripped the things below and reaped burning coals upon their head at the expense of the one with wisdom. Crito could not convince him to abandon the truth, and so his grave is set beside the foundations of this world. Thus, the wicked melody of those broken words spread through each city, even into Jerusalem, corrupting the hearts of men.

Yet through this broken melody, another rose in its stead, so gentle and low was it, that it appeared alone, yet the shouts of Babel could not consume it. It was the same melody, yet more real as if it was more than a melody, but a chorus. As the roars of Cain raged louder and louder that it may consume this new melody, so the chorus continued, not in volume but in beauty… and the blood of Abel began to sing once more. The melody began to take form, rising and joining in harmony with the gentle rhythm of a garden. It sprang forth into man and flowed like a river, rising higher and higher. It burst forth surrounded by the stars that once ruled the earth and began to irrigate the land. Then, the broken melody confronted it, asking for it to change its tune, but it persisted. It simply bowed and continued in the way of life, arousing the jealousy of the broken melody.

Then, the broken melody turned to those in power and sunk into the hearts of men deeper and deeper, and many began to sing its tune. The music grew and enslaved what was already in chains, and vanquished any garden that still lived within the soul of humanity. Yet, the free melody entered the hearts of twelve and challenged the broken melody. But when the conductor of the broken melody looked upon the song before him, he grew in rage and conspired with one of the twelve. As the broken melody seeped into his heart, it began to conquer his soul, and he lowered his gaze toward silver and gold. And so, while the free chorus made its home in a garden, joined by the birds who sang the ancient song, it was betrayed by the one who used to harmonize with the melody.

One by one, the broken melody enslaved all who heard it, even the twelve, but the chorus stood in defiance. Or, it could be said, that all others stood in defiance of the chorus. It was given one last chance to sing the twisted melody, but it simply bowed and continued in the way of life, even unto death. So, the twisted melody, strengthened by all who sang it, silenced the free melody to the underworld.

But there was no silence below, for the melody had descended into the darkest realm filled with radiant color. As it descended, it reached out to the newly formed hand and grabbed it. And so, the first souls who began to sing again, to truly sing again, were of the underworld. Then, it rose, like an aroma pleasing to the Lord, bringing with it all who began to sing. Grabbing the hand of humanity, it ascended into heaven. Each soul who began to sing the new melody, gained a melody of their own, harmonizing with the first, taking part in a gentle play throughout the story of a garden. Then it descended from above.

As the broken melody relished in its victory, for three days it laughed. Yet on third, it turned its gaze above and there it saw heaven descending. Then, the broken melody was challenged once more. At the precipice of heaven and earth, the two melodies waged war. The broken melody, armed with darkness; the chorus, armed with light. Sometimes, as the battle raged in the hearts of men, the broken melody took over, but when the chorus rose like the moon in the night and fought until the rising of the sun, there the conductor of the chorus revealed himself to all who looked above. Like a steeple of a church, the gaze of humanity was turned toward the heavens once more and the chorus gained victory over the underworld, earth, and heaven. This magnificent chorus joined the 11 and carried itself, carefully woven, through all of those chosen hearts connecting them in a rather benevolent way.

This is the song we now sing, one of a Garden, one of a City, one of a Garden City. It is a thread carefully woven throughout the hearts of the new men, those who decided to turn their gaze above reaching for the forming hand that descended for them. There, at the precipice of heaven and earth, they were joined by the music of the birds, who, like them, sang the ancient song. As each one of us sang the new chorus, we gained our own melody and harmonized with the music that created the world.

  It could be said that the work of Christ is the fulfillment of all things, and typically the way that the world is fulfilled is to turn it upside down. If you’re a seasoned philologist, you would know that He is rather turning the world right side up, for it was turned upside down in the time of the Garden. Instead of the clean being made unclean by the unclean, the unclean is made clean by the clean. All the threads of humanity are made complete in the person of Jesus. He is the fulfillment of Abraham and of Romulus, Abel and Alexander, Plato and Aristotle, the criminal and the judge, the shepherd and the sheep, the law and the prophets, the kings and the gods, the man and the woman, the gardens and the cities, and the heavens and earth. One may even say that He is the “I AM.”