The Grand Destruction of a Man (The Villain)

    I have always had a weakness for the fantastic. Perhaps this is why I have always enjoyed video games. Or, quite possibly, my fondness for these same games instilled in me a lust for adventure. That is, adventure in a fantastical sense—none of the petty, erroneously named “adventure” into the pleasures that this world has to offer, as many a teenager so often chases upon embarking on his archetypal bildungsroman journey of “self-discovery.” Rather, a journey into the mythical, a realm in which man’s limited power pales in comparison to a dragon’s flame, a banshee’s shriek, a kraken’s grip. Not the least of these, of course, is that incorruptibly corrupt embodiment of all that is evil. This behemoth which threatens the way of life, or even the very life of the denizens of this world might at first seem an insurmountable villain. Yet a great hero would rise up to conquer over it; with a heavy swing of the sword evil is vanquished and put to an end.

    Yet instead, creation, from the very beginning, was made subject to the dominion of man. And man, far from a hero, had no greater villain than himself. Out of his own heart has always come the darkest of evils, and I am no exception. More than that, I am the foremost of sinners—I would challenge any one of you to show me a man or woman who has done worse than I have—a criminal on all accounts, no crime left undone. Our generation raised to “see the good in everyone,” I am certain that some would object to this, thinking that in doing so somehow this apparent problem with my self-esteem might right itself, and tell me that I am “not a bad person.”

    However, this is not an issue of self-esteem—it is simply an observation. I do not have an unhealthily-low self-esteem. In fact, if I were to have my way in my flesh, I would consider myself the best person in this room, in the county, in the country, in the world, even. According to my flesh, my opinion is worth more than that of millions of others, my immediate pleasure above all else, my works in every respect wholesome. It is only when I begin to separate myself from my feelings and begin to truly consider the facts that I realize that I am absolutely despicable, worthy only of immediate judgment, and if only that were painful and tortuous. I am an idolatrous blasphemer, a murderous liar, an adulterous thief. Who can stand against me and contend for my dishonor? Who should take my place in the court of Leviathan, the king of the proud?

    Thankfully for my sake, the God that should justly condemn me to eternal, conscious torment is also in the business of redemption. In spite of everything working against it, the Lord sent His Spirit after me to convict me. Raised a postmodern universalist, with no hope of learning of the truth of the Gospel because I actively strove against the authority of His word, an outsider might think the combination of my heretical philosophy and my dogmatic pride was of a damnable sort, but the Lord Almighty deemed it otherwise. Through His Holy Spirit, He struck me down through conviction, eviscerating my pride. I held so tightly to my postmodernism, to my theistic evolutionism. But my Lord said “I am the way, the truth, and the life,” excluding all others that claimed to speak the truth. My Lord declared that there was no death before sin, and demolished my belief in naturalistic evolution. Suddenly, after sixteen years of life understanding the world as I been raised by my parents and the public education system, my world began to fall apart around me. Everything was brought into question. What was true? The Bible was absolutely irreconcilable with my conception of reality—I had to find where to begin to find truth.

    I was led to the foot of the cross where my Lord Jesus hung mutilated. There was no other place to go. Everywhere else I looked, some unreliable and unfounded speculation failed me. But this, the death of Jesus, was indisputable as a historic fact. Even agnostics and atheists admitted that Christ was crucified. However, plenty of people have died, and crucifixion, although rare, occurred more than once. What made this man before me different? On the surface, this death wasn’t miraculous. Perhaps it was the reason why he hung before me. He claimed to be the I AM of Israel and so was crucified by Pilate because of the uproar against Him. Plenty of people have claimed to be God or talk to God, though. It was what happened after He died that made Him different. He rose from the dead after three days. He proved His deity at His demonstration of power over death. Yet it was not simply a demonstration of His might—rather, at the cross He took the punishment for the sin of all those that would believe in Him. I fell to my knees beneath Him and wept, for I knew that it was I who deserved to be on that cross, that punishment mine but taken by Him, the absolute opposite of me—the man who knew no sin. But my sobs were interrupted by a sudden “It is finished,” and my Lord stepped down from that Cross, and brought me from my knees to my feet. Holding me by the shoulders, He declared to me “I have taken upon myself your sin and punishment. I have paid for you by my blood. In my righteousness, you are free from sin, so go and sin no more, my Son.”