The Commissioned Team

The Divine Romance | Literature Excerpt
by Gene Edwards, chapters 2-6

As this writers descriptive view of Father God's initial Creation unfolds, read on...
Chapters 2-6 in Gene Eward's novel 'The Divine Romane'.

 

"... Once more the Lord God bent gently over the sculptured clay. For a moment the face of the Living God and the face carved upon the lifeless clay almost touched.
The Lord God breathed.
Clay nostrils quivered and flare. The wet clay fleshed, stiffened stirred, and began quietly breathing.
Almost pensively the Lord stepped back. The newest of His creations turned His head... and stared for a brief moment at the panorama of celestial beings gathered about. Then, in the most natural gestures, the rouge-tinted mat sat up... turned... and serenly faced his Sculptor.

With that the Lord approached the model. Again their two faces almost touched, while angels whispered their approval.
"Why, why... they are almost like... brothers."
Of all the innumerable creatures fashioned by his poetic hand, there was but one of whom it could be said, "The Lord God was thinking of himself when He created this one."

And, as the angels had surmised, this latest and final creation was male. Not an it, therefore not of the angelic species. Visible, therefore of the material realm, yet a far higher form of life than any other being that dwelt in realms visible.
As the angels stood in wonder at this one, the truth declared itself: This creature would rule the earth... as surely as the Lord God, in whose image he was so obviously created, rules the heavenlies.
Further, it was noted, this creature--unlike animals and invisible angels, but very like God--could love.

And like God, the one called man had no kind after his kind. Man joined his God as one off but two living things that could love--yet who had no "other" upon whom to pour out that love. Of all created beings, man was the only male who had no counterpart.
Truly, man was the image of God.

***

The seventh day was a day of rest for all creation. The highest activity of the day reached no higher than wonderment.
The eighth day dawned. It was the second first day of the week. For the Lord God, this day was to be a day spent in fellowship with his image. It was obvious that they enjoyed one another's ccompany above all others'.
Together the two traversed man's terrestrial domain, wandering across the face of that emerald ball, roaming meadows, valley, hills. Together they drank in earth's beauty and absorbed its windsong.
And as they went, first one, then the other, would declare, "Ah, this is good."
"Yes, and this...", "And this, too, is good."

But as the day progressed, the conduct of the man became disturbingly strange. He would fix his penetrating gaze upon some distant, misty object and then suddenly bound his way toward it, only to find the lion, the leopard, or the eagle. For a moment his discovery caused his face to fall. He would then slowly turn and murmur, in a pathos that could disquiet a seraph, "Two. They are always two."
The deep restlessness of the man intensified. At length this disquietude of man was addressed by his Lord.

"You have seen a goodly portion of all my creation, and you have seen the portion I have given you to rule. Is there anything in all this vast realm which, to your observation, might not be good?"
Slowly, and with the greatest deliberation, man cast his eye over his vast and lush domain. The verdict was incontestable. All is good.

Yet, not all.

There was something amiss deep within the man. Something he could not define... yet it was there, and he strove to identify it. A silent cry arose from within and chilled his being to the core.

He again faced his Creator, fixing a steady gaze upon the blazing fires within the eyes of God. Neither spoke while eyes exchanged, a consortium of emotions--the mutual loneliness, the shared sadness that they alone, among all living things, had touched.
The Lord at last broke the spell of silence.
"Let us see, for a certainty, if all things in My creation are good."

Man, by some spiritual instinct of his inner nature, knew that he was now to call forth all the creatures of earth and name each of them.
The animals came forth, always in pairs, each with his counterpart. The lion pranced before man with his lioness; the proud stallion and the mare; the bull, the cow. Two, always two.

"What is amiss here?" A wild look grew in his eyes as he cried out, "I am Ish! Man! Ruler of this domain. But alone. One, only. Where is my counterpart?"
The last pair of animals passed. Man looked frantically about, then broke into a run across valleys and hills until he came to the precipice of a great mountain and began searching the horizon.
"Are you there?" he called. "Are you there?"

He scoured the whole terrestrial ball, then searched the moon and stars above. Slowly, silently, he made his way back into the valleys and to a waiting and very understanding God. Man again fixed his troubled eyes upon the blazing fire within the eyes of God.
"What is it that is not good?" asked Adam.

"I believe you know. Man, it is not good for you to be alone."
For a long time, the young man and a God not old shared in their spirits what no words, mortal or divine, could ever express.
"You are my image. Male. Alone. And it is not good for you to be thus," said the Lord very quietly.

Man searched out the face of God for a long time before he replied.
"I am, as you are. Alone!"

***

Unmindful of path or hour, the man began to wander... without purpose or direction. The unbearable ache within his heart throbbed on. His senses revealed to him the harsh truth.
"I am more alone than if I were the only living creature in all realms." Time unmeasured passed. At last, worn and forlorn, he wandered back to his Creator.
"You are true, as truth you are," spoke the man as he approached a God whom he now better understood.

"But is there no deed, not act, of God or man that might bring forth... my Ishah? Even for one brief moment, to see, to touch--something... someone... like unto me? May I not, even for an hour, have my lioness?"

The Lord heaved a deep sigh as one about to begin a great and arduous task.
"Man, there is a principle written within the depths of My being that cannot be rescinded."
"I am one, not two. Indivisible is My life. And you, man, are a reflection of my essence. Therefore, one also are you. As I am alone, so are you alone. As indivisible am I, so indivisible are you. More than one you cannot be. To change that is to violate the reflection of Me, which reflection you are."

Upon hearing this inexorable verdict, a flawless man, standing in the midst of a flawless universe, began to weep. For the first time creation witnessed the exquisite agony of tears of sorrow.
Man raised his face and, speaking between sobs, said, "You are very much like me, are you not?"

"No, not at all," came the Lord's gentle reply.
"You, man, are very much like Me."
As the full meaning of these words slipped into his soul, the man dropped to his knees, his unspeakable sorrow finding expression only in uncontrollable sobs.
At last the man grew still, lifted his face of blended tears and pain to his Maker, and spoke again, in words of grim finality.
"There is, then, no way. As you are, so I am destined ever to be."
An overwhelming heart of love and a life lived out in solitude now found a hesitant voice and measured words:
'Perhaps, my image, perhaps there is a way, but only one.'

The Creator reached down to the soil and plucked forth a seed. For an endless moment, the man watched his Lord stare silently and sadly at the seed. Slowly the Lord God held out the seed for the man to see. 

"Here is yet another principle, buried deep within My nature. This principle, therefore, is found also, in the very fiber and bloodstream of the universe. Even in you, man. 'Tis a law of my nature, not known to my creation, yet this principle lives also within this small, terrestrial seed. Like us, this simple seed is alone. And--like us--it must forever abide... alone."

"Forever?... my Lord, my God... alone... forever?"
"Yes, man... forever... unless..."
"unless what?" cried the man at this faint hint of hope.
"Tell me! Unless what!"
"Unless..." the Lord paused.
"In the name of pity, unless what!"
The answer came quietly and evenly. 
"Unless, per chance, the seed should fall into the ground and there cease its existence." 

With that, the Lord dropped the seed into the earth.
Man rused to the site of the burial andd exclaimed, "But I cannot fall into the ground and cease to exist?" He paused, lowered his voice and added, "That is... well... I cannot, can I?"

The Lord turned and, gazing into some far distant age, murmured, "Perhaps--perhaps one day such a thing might come to pass."

"But," interrupted the still-agitated man, "what would be the good of it?" He stared again at the moist sod. "For what gain would it be if I should disappear forever into the earth? Then, should my counterpart appear, my counterpart would be alone."

"Have you not observered, man--and I believe you have--that eventually the seed rises again. It rises from the captivity of its earthen chamber. And, having risen, the seed is no more one seed. And no longer alone. The seed is many.
"Yet I tell you a mystery. The seed is still... one."

The man stood almost motionless, fixing his eyes first on the earth and then on the face of God. Slowly, but with rising expectation, he replied,
'All I have heard I do not fully see. Your thoughts are beyond those bestowed on me. Your sight is not mine to own. Nor angels nor archangels, I presume, have ever known this thought. But this I declare, make me a seed! Place me now, this hour, into that dirt from which I sprang. out from your finger or out from my heart bring forth to me now my counterpart.'

These words seemed to end, for the Creator, some eternal vigilance of waiting.
"You, my very image, are willing to fall, like this singular seed, into the earth that you might thereby end your journey of solitude? you are willing to do this to gain a life from your life? You could fall into the earth and cease to exist in order to become as this seed--many. You are willing to do this to have a counterpart?"
The man turned to face his God and exclaimed in a voice of unequivocal certainty.
"I am! I am!"

The Lord God lifted first his eyes, then his hand toward the heavenly realms. The celestial response was immediate.
The heavenly host bolted forth into realms visible. A wild, joyous, and expectant throng they were, encircling their Creator and his highest creation. Soon the two were surrounded with angelic light and praise. In the midst of this celestial demonstration the Lord raised His hand again and roared forth a most thunderous and uninhibited declaration.
"For man," He shouted. "For man, I shall now build a counterpart. Kind after his kind!"

The praise vanished. Stunned, the angelic host stood silent. These were words they did not fully understand. What God has suggested, they knew full well, was quite impossible.

"This is the eighth day, is it not?" inquired the angels of one another.
"Indeed, it is the eighth day, not the sixth."
"And our Lord declared creation and all creating to have ended on the sixth day, did He not?"
"Can a male bear a child?" came an angelic whisper as yet another probed his inmost being for revelation.

How can the image of God be two, when God is one? was the unanswered, unspoken question, burning in the spirits of all the angels.
The Lord turned to face the red-tinted creature standing beside Him, that He might answer for them these unanswerable questions.
"You are of the earth. From this very soil I brought you forth, but not from this soil shall I bring your counterpart."

The Lord paused. Every angel leaned forward. 
"No, not from the soil... but from here!"

Every eye, human and angelic, followed the finger of God. A muffled gasp arose from each and all. The Lord's finger was now, quite clearly, pointing to the man's side.
"Your counterpart is, even now, hidden in you!" declared the Lord.

"Counterpart shall be not only for you, but of you and by you--of your life, of your substance. Counterpart will be your being. She shall be you, extended! Bone of your bone. Flesh of your flesh. Being of your being. Essence of your essence."

"Oh!" exclaimed one of the angels as he tilted slightly to whisper to another.
"Then it is not creation at all. It is a building matter, of sorts."
"but what of God's oneness?" asked a still-curious angel.
"How should I know?" came the befuddled reply. 

"We have been here only since the foundation of the ages and the beginning of time and eternity... not before!"

The whispering faded. The Lord was staring at man. Slowly He raised His hand and passed it over the face of men.
Again the angels gasped.

Man slipped to the ground and lay very still. Indeed, too still.
"Has the inward portion... ceased to exist?"
"I believe not, he still glows."
"But how can anything be so... so still?"
"Let us trust, even in this strange sight, that all things in God's creation are still good."

Now if one thrusts his hand into water, he shall surely bring forth water. And, perchance, if one thrusts his hand into the earth, he shall surely bring forth earth. It follows, then, that should the Living God thrust His hand into the side of man, He would surely bring forth humanity. And this very thing He, drawing of the mans own being was now separated from man, yet that portion was still of man.

Angels stood dumbstruck, watching man cease to be one, and yet remaining one.
"You see," said the Lord softly, "there is something... someone... hidden in Adam."
The Lord brought forth from the man's side a bone--a softly glowing bone--and held it up for all to see.
"The man is no longer one. He is divided, yet both parts are... still that man," declared the Lord.
"Never could I have conceived that such a thing could be," spoke one of the angels to himself. 

"Truly, there are many wonders to be found in the ways of God."
The Lord God now turned to face the angelic host.
"From this bone, taken from the inward parts of man, I shall build his mate."
"He..." The Lord's voice trembled. Every angel tensed, a few instinctively reaching for their swords.
"Man... shall now have one beside him. One of his very substance, his being... extended. I shall now build flesh from his flesh. Bone from his bone. Thus shall he gain a counterpart. A counterpart who is oneness. A counterpart upon whom he may pour out... his love."

As one, the angels bowed their faces to the earth. Some small revelation of the unfolding drama had made its way into their spirits. They stood again and began to sing softly as Creator now became Builder.
Soon the singing gave way to silence, for the scene before them enthralled their whole being.

***

"Behold, no inconsistency is here," said one of the angels, resuming his quiet inquiry.
"In our realm, in the invisibles, there are no counterparts. But here in man's realm--in the visible world--all things have counterparts. So it is a natural thing for man also to have a counterpart." The angel rose to his full height, as one about to bring to conclusion a great mystery.
"It is a matter of visible or not visible. Though man is the image of God, he is visible. And God is invisible. Therein lies the difference! Invisible, spiritual... no mate. Visible, physical... a mate." 

"Still," wondered the audience of one that stood beside him,
"Still, if  the image can have a mate, why then cannot God--the original--have a mate? And besides, man is not just of the physical realm. He is partly of the spiritual. He is not wholly like the animals, you know. He glows!"

The whispered conversation ended abruptly. 

As the Lord worked, the form of the new being was becoming discernable. Suddenly one of the archangels--the angel of light--moved through the throng and approached the Lord. A murmer of astonishment rose from the heavenly host. That anyone would intrude upon their Lord at such a moment was quite... unangelic!
"Might I form in words what each of us has asked within our spirits?"
"You may," replied the Lord.
"You are fashioning for man a counterpart. Will you also create for yourself a counterpart?"

Consternation broke out in angelic ranks. Never had such conduct been seen, nor a question so inappropriate been conceived. And, surely, never had such a question ever been asked.

The Lord's answer was unnervingly calm.

"Creation is ended. How can I create, when creation is over? No, by the immutability of my own nature, and the sureness of my word, the matter of creating is forever ended."

There was a finality in this declaration that ended all questions.
The archangel relaxed, but all the other angels tensed.
"No," came the Lord's voice, again so calm, so quiet that angels strained to hear.
"Neither man nor... I..." He paused.
"Neither man, no any other, shall have a couterpart from out of this creation. Creating has ended. Furthermore, you may mark this hour the last counterpart this creation will ever see."

He now turned to address the archangel face to face.
"It would necessitate a whole new creation, and therefore the end of this one, to perform so grand a deed. Nor could I ever have a created counterpart. kind after my kind, would, necessarily, have to be uncreated--would it not--for I am uncreated. Nonetheless..."
The conversation ended. The Lord returned to his work. The archangel, his curiosity somewhat assuaged, returned to his appointed place above the angels, and beside the throne.

Now, more intently than ever, the Builder returned to fashioning the shimmering, glowing form that had been, only moments before, but the rib of a man. Quite abruptly and unexpectedly, he stopped. So perfect was his stillness it chilled the heavenly host. Slowly, at first imperceptibly, the light within the Lord began to brighten. And it grew brighter yet as revelation within him intensified. Angelic alarm broke out as this growing light began to envelop first the angels, then the earth, then the galaxy. Upward, outward the light soared until its brightness has swallowed up all visible creation.

There was no question. Not since the moment when God first conceived of creating has the brightness of revelation known such brilliance.
Still higher--and brighter--the light asscended, pouring into the heavenly places, filling every crevice of the invisible realms. The length and breadth of creation was now swallowed up in the glory of the light of God as he considered this matter of... a counterpart!

The angels crumbled in terror before such a brightness. Their own spirits, now immersed in God, began to touch the thought of God. They were drowning in bursts of spiralling revelation.
Slowly the revelation subsided, giving angels a moment to wonder what ultimate thought had coursed through God's being. What masterpiece might now fall from his hand? At last they could pierce the light and see again the face of God. Upon that face was etched exaltation and joy.

Whispered one angel as he staggared to his appointed place, "He has contemplated man's counterpart. He has seen her in the eye of his mind. But somewhere beyond that sight, methinks, He has glimpsed a higher, far greater revelation. but what?"
"'Tis mystery, hidden in unapproachable light," rejoined another.
Now it was with trembling hands that the Builder did build, and mold, and fashion, and mold again. And while that being he fashioned took on its final form, awed and dumbfounded angels fell once more to their knees at the sight of the wonder before them.

One angel, most irreverently, cried aloud the thoughts of all: "He is not making another Ish. This one is alike, yet different. As the lioness is to the lion, so is this out-of-man. But never, never," cried the wayward angel, "was lion or lionness so beautiful as this."

Another angel broke the confines of restraint.
"Nor was even man so beautiful as this!" he exclaimed.
With that, the vaults of heaven broke open, and in one full-throated shout, all heavenly beings proclaimed:

'Never was nor e'er shall be as beautiful as thing as she. All hosts in heaven's court, all creatures on earthen sod, it matters not the tribe nor race, one sight alone can be more beautiful than she. It is the face of God.' ​