A man of light and flesh

I saw a broken world hanging in the broken cosmos, like a broken ornament on a broken tree. It had cracked, and all the meaning had leaked out of it, and it had grown old. There was nothing new under the sun, and the sun gave forth dead light. The world was full of dead bones, a skeleton people. All was vanity and chasing after the wind, and even if one caught the wind he would find that he had not caught it at all: it had escaped his grasp and mocked him as he tried in vain to breathe under the dead sun.

Then the Lord saw that the people were dead for lack of meaning. He saw that they stumbled around in the dark, clicking and clacking in their never-ending chase of the wind. And he said “Who will go for us, and who will make these dead bones live?”

And many spoke, and many were sent, but it was no good: None could be found who were not skeletons. There was no one living to be found among the whole world.

And then, when silence had fallen in heaven, the Lord answered out of the whirlwind and said, “Here I am: send me.”

And the veil, which had been over the earth for so long that it had been forgotten, was torn, and the Lord opened the floodgates of heaven, and the people dwelling in darkness saw a living light. And the angels sang and the heavens danced in honor of the God who did what no god had done before. The light came into the darkness and became flesh, and the darkness understood neither the light nor the flesh, for nothing like this had ever happened before.

The light was a child, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger, and the manger and the whole world sagged under his weight. The baby breathed, and there was a freshness in the dead air. Then the babe laughed, and it seemed to those listening that no one had ever laughed before.

The child grew up, and a man of light and flesh walked the dead earth, leaving meaning in his wake. Some were afraid of him, and others followed him, and both did so because they realized that there had never been a man like this before. And those following him began to change: their bones ceased to rattle, and gradually they, too, had flesh. And they realized that they could breathe, and that their new lungs would hold the air. They ate and were filled, they drank and their thirst was quenched, the sun warmed their skin and the green grass tickled their feet. And they ceased to chase the wind and began to live, as no one had done since Adam walked the garden.