Worldmaker's Greatest Adventure

Worldmaker sat and surveyed the universe he had made. His gaze roamed over the whole of it: the galaxies slowly turning like wheels, the stars that came into being and blossomed and shone and burst and died, the whole intricate, fascinating, beautiful, teeming, infuriating splendour of it. He saw everything that he had made, and behold, it was very good. His heart filled with delight at the sheer pleasure of his creation, and he laughed aloud, and his laughter gave birth to a thousand thousand new stars.

But then his gaze fell on the one part of his work which was the most beautiful of all, and yet was also the greatest heartache to him. One little planet, the third planet from its sun, which he held in the palm of his hands as he looked deep into it. Of all the worlds that filled deep space, this one alone had rejected him and turned away from its Maker. The inhabitants of this world had chosen to go their own way, they had forsaken the love of the One who made them.

At one time the Maker of Worlds would simply have given it up, like a potter at his wheel, when one of the pots he is turning goes wrong, who crushes the whole lump of clay together and starts over again. He would have destroyed this world, and made it anew. But he already loved it too much. He had suffered too much for it, he had known the stories of its people and that was why he had made them, because he loved stories. How could he give them up and wipe them out? He couldn't. And he sat and gazed long and long, and pondered what he could do.

Then his Son whose name was Word, Worldmaker's beloved Child, came and sat beside his father and gazed with him. And after a while he said, "What is it, Father? Why do you look so long at the dark world, the beautiful world?"

His father answered, "Because it is dark, and beautiful, and the most perfect object of my love in all my creation. And I long to save it, to let its people know how much I love them so that they will turn back to me and live in my goodness and love and delight, and be bright and beautiful as I made them to be."

"But how can that be?" asked the Son. "We have tried over and over to win their cold hard hearts, and they will not listen. How can we bring them back into our love?"

"There is only one way that I know," said the Father. "We must go down into this little world, and change it from inside."

Then the Worldmaker and his Child sat together in silence for a great while, as they pondered what this would mean. And at last the Son said, "Father, let me go. I want to go into the world you have made and bring it back to you." And Worldmaker bowed his head in agreement, and sorrow, and love.

There is only one way to go down and enter into a world you have made. You have to be born there, as any one of the creatures of the world is born. So it was that Worldmaker's Child was born to an ordinary working man, a carpenter and his wife, and laid in a cattle trough full of straw, because there was no room for them in the inn. The greatest and most dangerous adventure in the universe had begun.

Do you want to know how dangerous it was? When the baby was just a few days old, Worldmaker's ancient Enemy tried to kill him. This Enemy hated Worldmaker and all his works; he spent his whole time trying to spoil and frustrate Worldmaker's plans, and bring them to nothing. Now he sent the King's men to slay every baby born in that region, under two years old. But Worldmaker sent an angel to warn the carpenter, and he took his wife and baby and fled from the danger, until that cruel king died and they were able to return to their home.

But that was not the Enemy's last attempt. Over and again, throughout the life of that child, the Enemy tried to have him killed. At last he succeeded, as we shall see. But first there were many tasks to be done and tales to be told, as Worldmaker's Child showed the people how much his Father loved them, and tried to turn them back to him.

At first, of course, the child did not even know that he was Worldmaker's Child. He was only a baby after all. He couldn't speak or walk; he could only cry and depend on his mother for everything he needed. But as the years passed and he grew in strength and knowledge and skill and understanding, he came to know the special thing he had come to do. And just as before, when he had sat by Worldmaker's side and surveyed the dark and beautiful world, he still longed to do it with all his heart, with all the love he shared with his Father.

A woman came to him, broken and bent by illness for 18 years, an illness from Worldmaker's Enemy that kept her a prisoner. And the Son set her free, so that his Father's will might be done.

A young girl of 12 was snatched from her parents and family by cruel death; but he came and spoke to her, and called her back into the land of the living.

A man, plagued by unclean spirits so that nothing could set him free, and he spent his whole life in howling madness and misery, was given back his right mind and his sanity.

Blind people came to him, and he gave them sight. The crippled and lame came to him, and he gave them strength and agility. The deaf came and he gave them sound and music. The wretched and the heartbroken came, and he put a song in their hearts. And to all the simple, ordinary people who came, he told the Story that brought truth and joy into their lives.

And in all of this, he was doing Worldmaker's will, showing the people that his Father still loved them and yearned for them even though they had forgotten him. He still wanted their love and longed for them to return to him. If only he had lived for ever, I suppose every creature in the world would have come to know it, and would have lived in and delighted in Worldmaker's love. But there was one task still to do, and in some ways it was the hardest task of all. For because of the darkness of that beautiful dark world, death was always a horror and a fearful ending for the people who lived there. They saw it, not as a welcome friend and guest, but as an enemy and one to be afraid of. So Worldmaker's Child knew that he too had to face that death and take away its sting. He let himself fall into the hands of Worldmaker's ancient Enemy. The Enemy, of course, couldn't believe his luck. He had the young man arrested, handed over to those who hated him, put on trial and wrongly accused and falsely found guilty. And he had him put to death for a crime of which he wasn't guilty, by nailing him to a cross of wood. He died there, and everyone, his friends as well as his enemies, thought it was the End.

It wasn't the End. How could death be the end for the one and only Worldmaker's Child? He could not be held in the bitter pains of death, but on the third day he rose again and this time he was alive for evermore.

And as he rose back out of that small planet and returned to his father Worldmaker's side, it was as if the small light that the Son had lit in that darkness slowly began to spread and grow as it shone in one person's life after another, and was handed on from one to the next. It's being passed from hand to hand by those who love the Maker of Worlds, and who love the plan he has that goodness and beauty and truth, and purpose and love and blessing, should fill all things, and who love his Son who took on that Greatest Adventure of entering the dark and beautiful world that he loved. The Adventure continues in the story of everyone who wants to share it, and who says Yes to the Worldmaker, the Storyweaver, the great Potter who will never again destroy a world that he has made, but ever and again will go to any lengths at all to bring it back into his love.

This story, though derivative, is © Tony Price, 2002
It was told in St Nicholas Marston at the 43rd Oxford Scout Group service on 13th October 2002