In the common tongue of this Last Age, myth is not only defined as untrue, truth itself has become a myth. The Prince of Babel, Baalzebul, is the Lord and Father of Lies; thus, the hearts of the dead over which he rules only speak the language of death and lies. To my fellow sojourners, we should not be confused in our mourning, as though we were caught unawares, for, having shunned and despised Truth Himself, these Lost Lands will continue to sink deeper into the Wailing Waters.
Nevertheless, the tongue of the dead is the same as their prince’s rule—shadows cannot exist without the light, illusions without reality, lies without the truth. The dead cannot give birth to life, for their god is a thief who cannot give, only steal; cannot bring life, only kill; cannot create, only destroy. How can the enemy—who can only twist, mar, poison, and pervert—overcome the beauty, wonder, mystery, truth, goodness, and glory of I AM? He cannot even silence the echoes of I AM constantly sung throughout these Lost Lands. O, if the dead could hear, their stone hearts shall begin to beat! Can you hear the same song in the groans and cries of the Wailing Waters? The same song leading the Kingdom’s armies on their march to restore these Lost Lands to the True Sovereign? The same song that brought forth reality and set all the universes in motion? The Song of songs, the Song of I AM.
To speak in the language of the dead, “You know something is genuine and valuable because of the countless counterfeits and fakes.” This is the economy of Babel, but the tragic irony of the dead is they are blind to what is truly genuine and truly valuable. In their hardheartedness they continue to reject the Supreme Treasure even as they pine for Him, searching among imitation after imitation when they have thrown away Truth for lies. Yet the most blatant lies hold no allure; they chase after quarter-truths, half-truths, and almost-truths, but never the Truth. Such are the dead who abhor life while lusting after immortality without letting go of their death. Deep in the aching void of their hearts they cannot escape the indelible marks of the unchangeable reality that none exists in all the worlds that was not made by I AM. The void in their souls testifies against them as it raises its outcry with the Wailing Waters. Not even their darkness, their blindness, and their death can let them escape from the True Sovereign.
In the World Above we know Truth, for He is our King, but as sojourners beneath the Wailing Waters, the remnants of the Unseen Veil continue to shroud the lands of our hearts. Even with our new hearts, as newborns, infants, and children learning to speak the words of Life—words our old minds and hearts lacked the capacity to perceive much less comprehend—we often fall back to using the tongue of the dead. An old warrior, whose verses are still read generations after he went home ahead of us to await the King’s wedding feast, fought to redeem myth and offer it as his wedding gift to our King. Many others joined or followed him in his quest, and we shall look at the ballads and epics written by these veteran mourners someday, but today I shall sing this line that many of us in the King’s Armies have forgotten: Myths are not wholly untrue, for Truth Himself is mythical.
“The heart of Christianity is a myth which is also a fact. The old myth of the dying god, without ceasing to be myth, comes down from the heaven of legend and imagination to the earth of history. [. . .] We pass from a Balder or an Osiris, dying nobody knows when or where, to a historical person crucified (it is all in order) under Pontius Pilate. By becoming fact it does not cease to be myth: that is the miracle. [. . .] If God chooses to be mythopoeic—and is not the sky itself a myth—shall we refuse to be mythopathic? For this is the marriage of heaven and earth: perfect myth and perfect fact: claiming not only our love and our obedience, but also our wonder and delight, addressed to the savage, the child, and the poet in each one of us no less than to the moralist, the scholar, and the philosopher.”(C.S. Lewis, Myth Became Fact)
This old warrior believed that the myths of these Lost Lands (genuine myths and not how the common tongue of this Last Age has equated myth with falsehood) were all foreshadows of the True Myth those of the Kingdom know personally and by heart. The Most Genuine will naturally have the most imitations. I will not attempt to rewrite these verses that an old master has so eloquently spoken. Instead, I shall venture onward from the road he and others have blazed across these mountains to conquer the vast plains that lie before us. This endeavor is neither new nor mine; I am following in the footsteps of Great Bards among the Ancient Ones, specifically in the traditions of the Elder Scribes, many of which have been lost to us of the Younger Scribes even though the Songs of the Word have always been with us.
The Songs of the Word give us all the broad strokes and the fine details of the Song of songs that we need to know apart from the secret things of I AM that He has hidden for our good and out of His love and delight for us. Guided as Truth sings to us from His Word, with His Spirit working in our songs, we search for the echoes of I AM throughout these lands to set them free from the Prince of Babel and all the powers under his rule, that these lands may once more raise up their voices to join ours in singing the Song of songs. These echoes ring loudest in the heart of the myths of these Lost Lands. We shall be infiltrating the field of study that the scholars of Babel call comparative mythology, using the relatively novel historical and comparative approach, but we shall be doing so from beyond the Veil as we continue the battles fought by our forefathers recorded in the polemics of the Elder Scribes. My fellow sojourners, remember that our fight is not against the dead, but against the false gods that hold them captive. The battle is not ours, but I AM’s.
82 God has taken his place in the divine council;Psalm 82:1-8
in the midst of the gods he holds judgment:
2 “How long will you judge unjustly
and show partiality to the wicked? Selah
3 Give justice to the weak and the fatherless;
maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute.
4 Rescue the weak and the needy;
deliver them from the hand of the wicked.”
5 They have neither knowledge nor understanding,
they walk about in darkness;
all the foundations of the earth are shaken.
6 I said, “You are gods,
sons of the Most High, all of you;
7 nevertheless, like men you shall die,
and fall like any prince.”
8 Arise, O God, judge the earth;
for you shall inherit all the nations!
|| 日本語 詩篇 82:1-8 || 한국어 시편 82:1-8 ||
|| 繁體中文 詩篇 82:1-8 || 简体中文 诗篇 82:1-8 ||
|| Tagalog Awit 82:1-8 ||