The Tale of the Radiant Web
The Tale of the Radiant Web
Once upon a time there was the Great Weaver, also called the Dreamer. He could not keep His happiness to Himself, so He decided to weave it in a wondrous way. His web was not made of gold or silk, but of pure joy and love.
At His side was a companion: the Master Weaver-Man. From the very beginning He was part of this great work. In His human hands, desires took on form and substance, and together they dreamed how the threads should intertwine, how each knot should connect, so that all might belong together. And as they worked, they sang. The Holy Song came alive within the fabric, giving melody to every thread. It was the web's radiance, its heartbeat, its mysterious music. Because of the Holy Song, the threads did not merely hold—they lived, they resounded, they overflowed with joy.
This web was creation itself. Life flowed in every strand, melody rang from every knot, and all who were part of the web knew they were safe. Around the web danced flashing lights, like a wondrous firework. It was a celebration.
But among the lights, some looked down with envy. "This was never our idea," they muttered. So deep did they sink into self-pity that their glow burned out. They began to fall, like ashes from a fire. Yet these ashes were no ordinary dust: filled with anger, their hatred still gave them power to burn. Wherever they landed, knots loosened, the pattern vanished, the web smoked and tore. More and more threads snapped, and instead of music, only painful creaking was heard.
The Great Dreamer began to weep—the innocent Child-Spirit grieved to see what had become of His work. Then the Master Weaver rose and said:
"Now I must leave you, but I will return. The web—only I can mend it."
By then the Envious were falling like burning rain, scorching everything. Yet the Master stepped into the fiery storm to repair the web. His human hands worked divine wonders, for He was both Man and God. Where there was a wound, His healing touch gave new strength. Where threads had snapped, He rewove the connection.
The Master was burned almost completely, yet He restored the fabric.
The Master was burned almost completely, yet He restored the fabric. Then the Dreamer slowly, but gloriously, began a new Song. And the Holy Song rose swiftly, flowing into the wounded Master. And behold! His wounds began to shine, brighter than the earlier fireworks and flashing lights. The Holy Song filled not only Him but also the fabric in His hands, until the web once again gleamed with light and resounded with music. The melody returned, the flow began anew, and the whole web came to life again.
It was not exactly the same as in the beginning—for the threads remembered the wounding—yet it was perhaps stronger, for the love that rewove it proved more enduring than anything else.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
He was with God in the beginning.
Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.
In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it."
— John 1:1–5
And whoever lives in this web knows: they are never alone. Every thread binds them to another, and at the center of each strand pulses the melody of the Holy Spirit. They can always count on the Dreamer, the Song, and the Master.