Red Letter Days: The Coronation

Let’s set the scene, shall we?

Obviously, there’s a throne. It was crafted at great length and with infinite care by the best of the warrior poets, gilded and gleaming and fairly bursting with anticipation as it waits to be occupied.

Drapes—two or three stories tall, stitched of crimson velvet and moonlight—tower up the walls like pillars of glory. Stately marble that radiates from within forms the arches that stretch so impossibly high only to meet, kiss, and plunge down again on the other side.

Thousands of snowy candles cast an ethereal glow throughout the cathedral. (You can tell they burn with sheer pleasure by how the smoke curls in gently clapping tendrils.) There’s a hazy, golden quality to the light, as though it were fond of every guest in attendance and vaguely trying to flirt.

Heads of state chatter happily in sumptuous splendor, decked out in a dizzying array of textures in all the colors of the rainbow. Traditional dignitaries mingle with angelic hosts of the highest rank and embodied stars plucked from the farthest reaches of the cosmos, while a mystifyingly unidentifiable aquatic creature jokes with two ambassadors of storm clouds with thunder in their wings.

You can almost taste the excitement as the afternoon sun streams through the windows in rivulets of spontaneous hymns. Massive doors swing open, and the trumpets, bright and regal, pluck up their courage and point everyone’s attention to…


This King of wonder, holy and fresh from the fight. He’s literally older than dirt, but He’s also the youngest One present. His eyes have beheld excruciating sorrow and exquisite adventure, both quite recently. They’re now filled with fierce joy.

At dawn this morning, the new King rose, gave His mane a hearty toss, and let the pointless grave clothes fall where they may. As He emerged from the tomb, a grin split His face, rumbling into a deep laugh that shook the world wide awake to its core. Hearing that laugh was the invitation.

Coronation Day!

The whole of creation has been longing for this event since the enemy—whose murderous plans have just received a death blow—first invaded. The triumphant Hero is the only worthy Sovereign, and He is here to claim His throne. Let us crown Him King over and over and over again.

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