COMING HOME; THE CONQUERING SON RETURNED

 

 

After His Resurrection, Jesus descended to the Realm of the Dead, the Underworld. Christ vandalized the gates of Hades. The Saviour confronted satan, and wrested the keys of sin and death from the great usurper.

Thereafter Jesus led all peoples who had been held in the Underworld of the dead, upwards, through newly opened celestial gates into Heaven.

The Son of God Who had so recently been grievously crucified ran up the celestial steps into the Father's Arms. 

The Father had sacrificed His only Son for love of us all in the world; this is the depth of His Love for us.

The Harrowing of the Deep

The earth fell silent -
a wounded hush beneath a darkened sky,
where Love lay broken in a borrowed tomb,
and hope seemed sealed with stone.

But deeper still,
beneath the roots of mountains,
beneath the memory of light;
a tremor stirred in shadowed halls.

Hades, ancient keeper of the dead,
felt its iron gates begin to groan.
Not with the slow decay of ages,
but with the sudden force of Glory.

A light - no, The Light -
tore through the suffocating dark,
not asking entrance,
but claiming it.

The gates were shattered -
not opened, but undone;
their rusted bars bent like reeds
before the Breath of God.

There He stood -
the Crucified, yet unconquered;
Wounds still bright with Mercy,
Eyes burning with eternal dawn.

Satan, the great usurper,
cloaked in borrowed dominion,
rose trembling from his fragile throne.

“What right have You?” he hissed,
voice cracking like a dying flame.

Christ replied, not with thunder,
but with truth that cannot be unmade:
“I am the Beginning and the End.
What you have stolen, I restore.”

Then came the clash: not of swords,
but of authority and surrender.
The ancient lie recoiled before the Living Word.
Death itself forgot its power.

From trembling hands,
the keys fell - 
keys of sin,
keys of death;
wrested free by pierced Hands
that once were nailed in weakness,
now raised in victory.

The darkness broke.

Chains fell like rain.
Graves gave up their silence.
Voices. long buried. rose in wonder.

Adam stirred.
Eve wept.
Prophets lifted their eyes.
Kings bowed low.

“Awake, O sleepers,” He called,
“for your night is over.”

Wonderingly they followed,
a great procession of the redeemed;
led by the Shepherd who had sought them
even into death.

Upward they rose,
through realms once sealed,
through doors never opened,
until Heaven itself stood wide.

The gates of glory, long awaited,
flung open in radiant welcome.
Angels leaned in awe,
as humankind returned home.

And He -
the Son, the Lamb, the Victor:
having emptied death of its dominion,
turned toward the Throne.

Still bearing the marks of love,
still crowned with sacrifice,
He ascended the celestial steps:
not slowly,
but with the urgency of reunion.

Once there,
beyond all telling,
the Father received Him.

Not as one restored,
but as One who had fulfilled all things.

Arms eternal wrapped around the wounded Son,
and in that embrace
was written the measure of Love:

That the Father would give,
and the Son would descend,
and the Spirit would raise - 
all for us.

For every soul once lost,
for every heart still wandering;
this is the depth of Love:

That even the grave is not beyond His reach,
and even death
cannot hold
the ones He has claimed.

Coming Home; the conquering Son returned.

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