The words had shaken Heaven.  The heart of every creature and angel in the Kingdom was rocked to its foundation.  We stood before the Almighty on His throne, awestruck, not only by His glory, but by what He announced.  Our Mighty King had called us before Him to announce His plan.  True, our Maker has many plans; many amazing, mind-bending plans.  The universe was one of them and we still marvel at it.  But this, He said, was The Plan.  It was to be unlike any other, and it would never be equaled.  Nothing could be greater than what He had to show us.  And we, He said, were to be a part of it.  We would be the heralds and stewards of His great cosmic venture.  With us, His plan would unfold in all its majesty and glory.  And so we gathered, more than eager to hear His plans; joyful and delighted to start the work He had planned. 

The King was beautiful.  No…the King was Beauty.  I write in vain to describe Him to you.  No words can express it.  Every contour of His face, every hair, every glance, and every smile- all of Him is perfection personified.  As He sat on the throne, we could do nothing but bow before Him.  He deserved it.  He deserves all things and to bow is the least of all.  But we gave what we could and He seemed very pleased.  Glory flowed from Him, like light from the sun.  It was more than our bodies, though spirit they be, could withstand.  Had He not strengthened us with His might, His glory would have burnt us up.  And as we waited for Him to speak, praises to His glory welled up in our throats and burst forth from our mouths.  When you are with Him, you will understand.  Praising the Maker is more natural and more necessary than breathing.  And His temple, His throne room, was filled with praise and exaltation and worship.  The atmosphere was electric.  We could almost bear it no longer, how great the joy was!  And then He stood.  And there was a quiet.  He was to speak to us and we would not dare to risk losing a single word from His lips.  To do so would be tragedy unimaginable.

            And so it was that He began to speak.  With the wisdom of eternity, He laid forth His plan.  His words meshed perfectly together, each sentence a masterpiece.  Every bit of what He said was perfectly thought out, flawless in its design. And yet, the more He spoke, the more we could not comprehend.  This plan was not like His others.  This plan…it was…it was impossible.  It was nothing like anything He had ever done before.  The cosmos, the incomprehensible vastness of space, the infinite smallness of the atomic world, the complexities of all of His creation- nothing came close to what He was proposing.  We could not speak.  We dared not speak.  Were we not seeing Him saying it, we would have doubted these words.

The idea was beyond comprehension.  The Son leaving His throne?  It made no sense.  What could possibly lead Him to such an action?  Our King, our Master, Our Holy one, removing Himself from the throne.  And for what?  To visit the darkness; to live amongst the rebellious race of humans.  I could not see why He loved them.  They were, and I say this without hate or malice but objectively, wretched and horrible.  They joyfully broke each statute our Father put forward.  They spit in His face.  They, in their infinite capacity for ignorance, placed themselves above the Almighty one, in pride and arrogance.  Our Father daily reached down to them, longed deeply to spend time with them, and they would not even think to take His hand.  Albeit, there were some who turned their eyes to Him and those He rejoiced in and built up in glory, but they were the exception, and even they would break His statutes from time to time.  They were utterly imperfect.

            And yet, when I began to think of my Father and this wretched race, I could not help but notice.  He loved them.  He loved them with love incorruptible.  Oh, the tears He would shed when they would rebel and blaspheme Him.  I knew not that such sorrow was even possible.  He loved them far more than even us, His host; His devoted servants.  He yearned to be with these little creatures.  He desired more than anything to be with them.  Yet He could let none of them into His Kingdom.  They stank of sin.  Sin was on them and in them and of them.  Sin, that vile mess, that utter perversion created by the enemy.  Our Father could not stand it.  He hated it.  And His beloved humans wallowed in it like contented pigs.  It cut to His heart, this separation.  And this plan, He said, could bring them to Him.  “My beloved,” He said, “Can be with me, in my arms.”  He stated that last fact with enthusiasm indescribable.  His face lit up.  His smile grew wide and full.  The light and glory surrounding Him grew more intense and magnified. They were worth more to Him than Heaven and earth; the universe and all the riches in it.  To compare His love toward us with His love toward them would be to compare a sapling to an oak.    To be with these humans, He would give up anything. 

And that is exactly what He proposed.  His one and only Son, part of Himself, would leave the throne of light to go down to the world.  He would humble Himself, wrap His glorious body in the fragile form of a human baby, be born to a sinner, and grow up amongst them.  Each and every handicap that horrid flesh inflicted upon humans, our Lord would endure. That desire to sin, the pains of hunger and thirst and the demands of sleep the Almighty Son, the God of all things, would allow Himself to be subject to. The enemy would be free to torment Him, to scorn Him, and to rebuke Him.  And all of this would culminate in sacrifice.  Our Lord explained it in exact detail.  The humans were stained in sin and only blood could wash that stain away.  It is true that until the great Plan, the humans would use lambs and sheep for such blood sacrifice.  But this blood wasn’t enough.  The blood must come, the Highest of the High said, from the purest of lambs.  His Son, the sinless One, must die.  His blood would have to be spilt for the humans to come to Him.  He would go to die and through a glorious resurrection, He would bring life and forgiveness to the sinful race of man.

We were stunned.  Such things could not be.  The Son, our Beloved One, leaving His Kingdom.  He had all.  The universe, the vastness of everything, was His.  He shone with glory and His Kingdom never ended.  He was crowned in riches and our praises greeted Him always.  The world was filled with pain and death.  It was rife with evil and sin.  His own people hated Him there.  He would receive no glory.  He would receive no riches.  His kingdom, according to His plan, would be a lowly carpenter’s shop in Nazareth, and even then the shop would not be His own.  His Kingdom in Heaven is enough to break the minds of even the strongest of human men, so great is its majesty, and He would leave it for that rank world of darkness. 

The throne room stood silent.  The silence was that of wonder and of morbid incomprehension.  Yet what the Lord wanted, we would by no means shun.  Though we could not understand it, His plan would be our joy to fulfill.  The Divine One looked over us all.  And then He turned to the mighty throne at His right hand.  And there stood our Beloved.  The Son.  Both Son of God and God Himself.  His crown burned hotter than the sun and His robes were whiter than snow.  He was perfect in every way.  The Son looked up into the eyes of the Father.  The love was unmistakable.  Tears shone in both their eyes.  And though we could sense sadness in these tears, there was mingled triumph and happiness as well.  The Good Work, the Divine Plan, was beginning.  The Father leaned down and embraced His Son.  Kissing Him, He said “Go, My Son.  Go do that Good Work which Your Father has charged You with.”  And the Father once again sat on His throne.

The Son held His Father’s gaze for a moment longer then raised His hands to His head.  Heaven held its breath as the Son of God removed His awesome crown and set it on the throne at the right hand of the Father.  He pulled off His pure white robe and folded it at the feet of His throne.  And turning, He looked over us, His loving servants.  And then He began to walk.  Slowly, step by step He walked through the throngs of His angels.  He looked not to the left or to the right.  He was as One possessed by determination.  His eyes did not depart from the path He chose to take. 

He left the throne room and resolutely strode through His Kingdom.  He passed the magnificent buildings and shining landscapes.  The streets of pure gold did not attract His attention.  We followed every step of the way.  Our hearts were heavy.  The Son was leaving.  Our Beautiful One was removing Himself from us.  We wanted so much to wail and to lament and yet could do nothing but praise Him.  He deserved our praise above all things.  His plan, though we could not understand it, was mighty and wonderful nonetheless.  And so our praises followed Him as His feet trod resolutely over the divine soil.

And then it came.  The gates of Heaven loomed before Him.  Intricately made, beautiful and full of splendor those gates were, crafted by the Master Craftsman Himself.  As the Son, the Savior of the world, walked forward, these gates became the last vestiges of His Kingdom.  These hallowed gates were the last of His Kingdom He would see until His triumphant return.  He flinched not as the gates sprang open and He stepped outside.  All that greeted Him was the darkness.  All that was visible was the blackness of the sinful world ahead.  Presently we stopped at the gates.  We could go no further.  It was not our journey to take.  And so He continued on his path alone.  Sorrow and wonder filled our hearts as the blackness began to envelope Him.  Our praises continued as the inky blackness surrounded and obscured His image.  And soon, He was gone.  His journey to earth was begun and we were left at the gates, awestruck, amazed, heartbroken. Yet presently, as we turned to go back into the Kingdom, we heard the voice of the Holy Son say, as if to the milling earth below, “I am coming to you, my beloved ones….I am coming.”