The Deeper Magic—Part I

The Crimson Foundation of All

At the center of all reality is the Lamb slain. From before the foundations of the world, and even now  in the midst of the Throne, stands the Crucified and resurrected God-Man,  whose goings forth are from of old (Mic. 5:2; Rev. 5:6, 13:8). The bedrock of all things is the sacrificial love of God—the wounded and radiant mercy that has delivered us from the domain of darkness and brought us into the Kingdom of the Son of His love (Col. 1:13-14).

The Slain Lamb Himself — without blemish or spot, foreknown before the foundation of the world — is the first and last Word (1 Pet. 1:19-20). The beginning and the end of all is He Himself: the blazing glory of infinite, self-giving Love of Father, Son and Spirit, from before He hung the stars in their place. It is the primordial love older than sin and death and every accusing voice, the love with which He filled all creation with singing proclamation—the tidings of stars and flowers and trees bearing witness to the eternal Good beneath all things.

The deeper magic, as C.S. Lewis spoke of, is that ancient river beneath the surface of this world now held under the  dominion of sin and death—beneath this world’s system of accusation and condemnation. Yes, we are guilty, every one. Fallen short of the glory and deserving of death. And still, beneath the weight of this fallen order, a better Word remains. Older than accusation. Older than the Fall itself. Something runs deeper than the dominion of sin and death. Something written in holy decree before even the world was. Something that rumbles with age-old assurance beneath the accusing voice that rises day and night before the Throne of God.

The blood of the Lamb speaks a better word (Heb. 12:24). Beneath the incessant cold voice of accusation that reverberates through this fallen world, swells the living voice of the Beloved Son—like the sound of many waters.

As the Father has loved Me, so I have loved you. Abide in my love (Jn. 15:9).

This is the better Word. It is the crimson strand of redemption woven into the ages past, before the mountains were brought forth. It is the Redeemer who was and is and is to come. It is Mercy older than the stars. It is grace—older than the serpent’s first hiss in the garden—stronger than the sin that drove us east of Eden, given us in Christ Jesus before the beginning of time (2 Tim. 1:9, 10).

All things hold together in Him (Col. 1:15-20). Ultimate reality is not man at the center, nor evil having the final word. Ultimate reality is a Person: the Lamb Slain from before the foundations of the world. If the fabric of all things could be pulled apart and revealed, our eyes would behold and gaze upon holy, ancient chords of lovingkindness and self-giving, covenantal love.

And He has not left Himself without witness, even in a world marred by shadow and flooded with accusation.

When Samwise looked up from the ash and ruin of Mordor and saw a single star trembling above the shadows, he knew that the darkness was only a small and passing thing. All at once, a breath of hope filled his weary lungs as he saw that there was still light and high beauty beyond the reach of the Shadow. The heavens themselves bore witness that darkness is not ultimate. Beyond all the darkness that has entered this fallen world stands an older and everlasting Goodness no shadow can possess or extinguish.

And this is what lies at the heart of all: God is not merely righteous, but His righteousness burns with self-giving love. Redemption is not the suspension of justice, but the unveiling of God Himself—the One whose holy justice is revealed through self-sacrificing mercy.

The Holy One does not turn a blind eye toward evil, nor does He abandon the guilty to the darkness that has laid hold of them. Neither is He indifferent to the wounds evil leaves behind, but rises to defend the vulnerable, and will one day set all things right. In Christ, He enters the depths of ruin Himself, bearing righteous judgment in His own body on the tree.

The Ancient Redeemer is Mercy Himself. Grace Himself. And our glorious future is not attained righteousness but imputed radiance, culminating in eternal union with the Beloved who loved us first. It is not moral superiority but blood-bought splendor. Justice and mercy meet together in Him without contradiction, as eternal Truth stoops to redeem His own.

The white witch of Narnia and Javert of Les Miserables were not entirely wrong. They recognized real guilt, the record of debt that stands against us all. We know something of them and their cold logic from the inside. We are prone to forget the Deeper Magic itself. We lose sight of the crux of it all: the tender heart of the One who formed us for Himself.

The Stone Table, broken beneath the weight of sacrificial love, revealed the deeper and more ancient foundation beneath all things: the crimson-stained Crossbeam of divine Love anchoring the foundations of the world from before its beginning.

The Lamb slain before the foundations would take the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands into His own pierced hands and nail it to the Cross (Col. 2:13-15). He is the Holy One who gave Himself in our place—both for the guilty bread thief and the prosecutor of justice. The Ancient Aslan looked death itself in the eye and in Himself paid the price with His innocent blood. And death began working backwards.

There remains a foundation of mercy beneath the seemingly unbreakable sentence of death hanging over the guilty. This bedrock does not ignore the righteous demands the law requires, nor diminish the blazing holiness of God. The serpent seeks to wrench holy justice from the heart of mercy through the lie that mercy and justice stand opposed to one another.

But the Cross of Christ reveals what has always been true. There the righteous demands of God are neither hidden nor passed over, but fulfilled through a mystery deeper than the wisdom of men—divine self-giving. There, in the shame and scandal of crucifixion, the Innocent One entered the place of the condemned. Bearing that judgment Himself, Christ draws all who turn and believe in Him beyond condemnation and into the shelter of His everlasting love.

Accusation lost its final claim there upon that Mount, as crimson blood streamed from Emmanuel’s veins. The powers of darkness were disarmed. Death itself began working backwards as His royal blood answered the holy fire of justice and opened the way toward the restoration of all things.

The deepest truth of all is the Lamb—the One who loved us and gave Himself for us— the risen One who even now lives and will come again.

And it is to this burning center and crimson foundation that He has scattered witnesses all through the darkness of this present evil age: signs of His goodness all around—in the created order and in the jars of clay bearing His image—lighting the path and pointing us past the shadows, to Himself, and to that long-desired Day of His appearing, when at last He will make all things right.