We have been story tellers, across all cultures, from the beginning of time. Through stories, we pass down knowledge, values, and beliefs. Great stories, great literature, transform us. They make the invisible, visible, by turning one dimensional words into multi-dimensional tapestries, tapping into fragmented threads of memory, entering our hidden places, broadening our understanding. Words are like the notes of a symphony, building one upon the other, layer upon layer, speaking to the heart, stirring the blood, reverberating through the chest. That feeling, barely contained, reaches a crescendo that erupts, up, out and around us, to teach our minds and touch our souls.
Perhaps that is what happened to God. He was listening to the music of His ministering angels; the sounds of the trumpets blaring, the tambourines clashing, the clamour of symbols, the sweet sound of the strings and the soulful sound of the pipes. Then the archangel, Gabriel, blew his horn up into the infinite, but empty space. And God was so filled with the emotion of the sounds of the symphony that He could no longer contain Himself and there came from Him this sound, like a big bang and with it, the Word of creation.
