Crossing KCU

In the early days of the war many of us were confused, lost, and just trying as hard as we could to survive the storm that was raining down on us. We would huddle together in groups, seeking comfort in conversations that were meant to dull us against the sharp edge of reality. We would light fires in the woods to warm ourselves against the cold that came not from the weather, but from feelings and emotions that bit at us like ice on the inside. At times we each would sit for hours by ourselves, alone with thoughts as heavy and effective as iron chains shackling us to an existence we did not understand. The war came upon us quickly and unexpectedly. It brought with it a terrible sense of despair, hopelessness, and depression. As the world grew dark around us, we retreated from the conflict and sought for any means which might help us to hold on to whatever small amount of light we still carried inside. What we did not know then, is that the war was only new to us, that this was an ancient war, and that we were only just becoming aware of a conflict that had raged for thousands of years beyond our comprehension.

In those days, when the war was still new to us, we talked of it often. We were still trying to understand, and in our pursuit of information and knowledge we searched everywhere. We scoured through the accumulated knowledge of centuries, sifting through the recorded thoughts of our ancestors, seeking any wisdom that might provide us with answers. Eventually, through one of the more ancient texts, we began finding those answers. And somehow, in those early times of struggle and survival we were able to discover that the war had two fronts. The first front was on the inside of us.

At some point far in the past, a terrible curse had been placed upon our first ancestors. They had trespassed somehow, and in their detestable act, they had incurred a disease, an illness. And this illness had been passed from generation to generation, permeating the entire heritage of mankind until finally reaching us. It brought with it an emptiness that seemed to well up within our bodies like a pit in which all hope and happiness were swallowed and lost. We reacted to this instinctively, attempting to fill up the emptiness with anything we could. But nothing worked, nothing lasted, and the more we tried, the deeper the pit would become. At times, in our ignorance and in our hunger to be filled, we would turn on each other, tearing away pieces of ourselves in an attempt to find the cure that continually eluded our grasp. Some of us did not make it through those days. Some were irretrievably lost. Others escaped those times with scars that ran deep within them. No one made it through unharmed. This was the war that we fought on the inside, against ourselves, and though it was a war that we had inherited from our ancestors, we made it our own. But this was only one side of the war. There was another front on the outside, waged against us by creatures that we could not have imagined in our worst nightmares.

These creatures would watch us, at first attempting to only keep us imprisoned within the cycle of hunger and emptiness that our own bodies produced. We were already slaves to our own dark natures, and these creatures had little to do but make sure we were kept that way. They were the invisible wardens, working against us unseen and without our knowledge at first. In those early days there were some who became aware of these creatures and stood against them in pride, ignorance, and without understanding. They were cut down swiftly and left as warnings to the rest of us. In the end, it was our fear that kept us in the prisons we had made. It was our fear as well that empowered these forces that were aligned against us, for they fed off of it as much as they fed off of us.

In our darkest days of despair, there were only a few of us who had the will to keep going, and with all our strength we began seeking for someone to rescue us from the hopeless cycle of routine and decay that was overtaking our lives. We sought for a leader who could guide us on a new path, who could make sense out of the chaos and confusion, who could heal our wounds, and teach us how to fight these creatures that enslaved us within our own bodies. We knew that without help from elsewhere, we had no chance left to escape the death that awaited us.

And in our greatest time of need, a hero came to us. Many of us knew his name, and had heard of his existence. We had been told stories about him from a young age, how he had walked the earth long ago, how there was no one else like him before or since. It was said that he was immune to the illness which infected us all, and that he had fought against the creatures. It was said that he had a power that mankind had never witnessed, and that he had defeated the forces of darkness. But the stories also said that something terrible had happened to him. He had been betrayed it was told, first by a close friend, and then by his own people. It was a people not unlike us that had eventually killed him, a people enslaved by fear, and unable to accept the freedom that this hero had gained for them. They were afraid of his power, but because he loved them, he allowed them to kill him. His war was not against them, or us, but had been waged against the illness and the dark creatures on our behalf, and having achieved his victory, he died.

It was this man who came to us in our need, in our time, in these days of war in which we live. He came to us out of the stories we had been read as children, out of a time that had passed long before our ancestors were ever born. He came to us in our dreams and spoke to each of us as we sat alone in the darkness of the prisons we had made for ourselves. He walked through the walls we had built in our hearts to protect us from the pain of loss and betrayal, and without fear or anger, without doubt or condemnation, he set us free. He had died once, he told us… but he had come back from death. He showed us that he alone was master and lord of all creation. The stories we heard about him were true. He had defeated the creatures enslaving us. Even more, he gave us food that filled our emptiness and brought life to our dying souls. He came to us as a friend, but we knew him as our king. We knew him as God.

In time he taught us how to fight the war that we had been born into. He cured us of the disease and the curse upon our bodies. He filled us with a love so powerful that it destroyed our fear. Eventually, we stood against the creatures which had held us captive for so long, and because we bore his mark upon our souls, they fled from us. He rescued us, and he made us who we are. Because of him, the story of our own lives has been given meaning and purpose. Our stories have become extensions of his story… the story of history.

The story that I tell here, is simply the story which he wrote into my life. Still, it is only a small piece of that story. The war still rages. At times we feel in our bodies the sting of the illness which we once bore, the effects which it wrought upon us, and the scars which we will always carry with us. At times, we forget what has transpired before us, and what has happened to us, and our thoughts become dark. In these moments of vulnerability, we turn to our master, and find in him, in his very blood, a reminder of the cure which has freed us. And the dark creatures do not surrender. They do not give up. They continue to wage war against us, and against those who are still enslaved to fear and ignorance.

The creatures are clever foes. They work their schemes against us night and day, without ceasing. There is no end to the deception they spin around us like the webs of giant spiders. Like a flood they spew their lies forth in an attempt to sweep away the truth which they fear above all things. At times, they even deceive those of our own number, enticing them back into the darkness with illusions of light.

But still we fight, engaged on every side. Against a million lies, we have one truth. Against a million hates, we have one love. Amidst a million deaths, we have one life. Among a million paths, we have one way forward. In a world that follows a million lords, we have one Christ to lead us.

This is how he found me, and what happened when I started following him.