Like many, for years I had been running around searching to solve a spiritually weighty problem with man-made answers. Unfortunately, the resolution to a plot’s major climax is impossible to achieve without the playwright revealing it for the joy of all characters and a “happy ending.” Thus, if the characters, as it were, take matters into their own hands and begin manipulation of the intended development, things get messy. They would need direction from the playwright to prove their creation and intended identity; without this, they forget everything. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Like characters that have gone astray, we search amongst others to determine the intricacies of the play, how everything fits together, our interactions, and the beauty of what is possible in the story. We even deviate and take on more individuality as we grow and make plans of what we want our character to look like, what we want to do, and how we want to act. But this is all still inside a play, isn’t it? We forgot we were created by a writer. There is no possibility to truly know the roles of each character and the depth of his sorrow, ambition, and existence if we do not know the writer’s intent. The playwright would need to write himself in and tell us.
We characters in this great story took our lives into our own hands and claimed to know something better and more advanced than the original intended script had said. We began to act out of a desire for pleasure, feeling limited by lines we had to follow. As a result, death and destruction entered the perfectly written storyline, and the characters alive at once have varied greatly over millennia. All the while, the playwright watched as the play unfolded, continuing to write parts that would reveal to the rest within the play his initial intentions, but many had been so deceived that they would not follow. Sometimes the playwright became so angry at his story that he deleted characters from it in waves. And finally, after much patience with the parts that had been altered and all his guidance and interjection, he did write himself into the story.
This act of submission, the splice of the playwright into the play, actually happened. God the father is the creator who sends us the exact imprint of himself, his son Jesus.
He began his life like all new characters—as a child. He grew in knowledge and got to know the systems and cultures of the times, and began to speak about himself, the very character of the playwright. He said he was the only one that knew the whole truth and point of the story and that he had been written in by the author himself. Some believed and followed him, and others called him a liar and a fool. Others still denied the fact that they were in a play at all, having gone through so many generations of apparent self-sufficiency. The playwright-character did not go along with the ways of all the rest, and he confronted those that had distorted his story to their own destruction. His character was despised, and they esteemed him not. In a shocking climax, this single protagonist (that had replaced all we thought to be protagonists), was killed by the other characters for his bold and exclusive claims. But the playwright looked no further than his own character to absorb the wrath necessary to punish their ignorance and abandonment of him and his story. Justice and grace were embodied in a moment’s time, and the characters that accepted these were forgiven and counted free. The playwright, written into the plot, actually resurrected from death to appear before many characters before the playwright once again pulled him from the story to be with him again.
Oh, how knowledge is relative until we put it in perspective! I am a character in a massive divine story, and if you are reading this, you are a character too. Have you met the playwright and did you know he wants you to live out his storyline for your life? And each time you disobey his words, you step aside from the ideal existence? The playwright exists, even now, in ultimately joy, and his plan for your character is to be with you and have you devoted to him, not others. To do this you have to acknowledge your role as a character in a play who is opposed to him without his impartation. The question is which plotline you will act out—the one of the playwright who designed your character and knows best, or your own of self-sufficiency and denial of the truth.
Look unto him the playwright who, despite our wandering, gives us a play to enjoy and an eternity with him when it ends.