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Jonathan Samuel Jackson

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Authors Summary

Jonathan Jackson a multi-faceted artist who creates meaningful pieces of art through music, film, and the written word.

He is a five-time EMMY® Award-winning actor and an accompliced Musician.

He began his professional career as an actor at the age of eleven. He has been writing poetry, screenplays and fiction for over twenty years. His first book of Poems was published in 2012 titled, "Book of Solace and Madness". He second book, a non-fiction prose was published in 2015 titled, "The Mystery of Art". Jonathan's most recent book is an epic poem entitled, "The Harrowing of Hell" which envisions Christ's Decent in Hades.

Title

"The Harrowing of Hell"

The Harrowing of Hell
By J.S. Jackson (excerpt)
I
Into the darkness the Wounded-Light descended; the Immortal Heart of Heaven, traversed deeper and deeper into the realm of
the Absent-Light. His hallowed hands were still raw from the
rust and steel His fallen Image-Bearers had viciously wielded
against Him.
The glorious and ever-radiant Victor of Heaven walked
through the blackness of the earthen walls—His ghostly feet,
aching from the punctured nail-wounds inflicted upon the
Middle-Sphere—His brow was swollen and tender from the
mocking thorns, which had been cruelly pressed into His sacred
flesh on the fateful mountain called The Skull.
The Lord of flesh and spirit moved speedily, through the
rancid mud and glowing flames; with each step, His mortal-robe
was rapidly healing itself, transforming into the armor of
immortality. The Everlasting Flame, Who had spoken the worlds
into existence through a shared vision of harmonious bliss and
simple utterance of what was, began to breathe with
imperishable lungs. His scarlet bloodstream was now flowing
with more force than the oceans of the earth. But, the Light of the
World was still wrapt in darkness, for His eyes could see only
the shadows of the flames.
The Lion of Heaven stopped suddenly, His oracle-lungs
burning from the poisoned air of solitude and want. He, who
had healed the blind, could see only shadows. He, who had
fashioned the celestial choirs with voice and song, could hear
only silence and the rhythm of His own breathing. The Maker of
Eyes stared into the blackness, as if to somehow bend it to His
Sovereign will. The darkness obeyed Him.
The shadows began to scurry and flee like the sounder of
swine, which ran into the raging mouth of the sea, during His
earthly life. It was still dim, but the Master of the Elements could
now perceive beyond a mere dream-like instinct, where He was
and where His steps were leading Him.
Beyond the walls, the Sea-Calmer began to hear the faintest
sounds of wailing souls. The desperate voices rose within His
unblemished mind like smoke before a sacred temple. Then,
behind the wailing voices, He began to hear most clearly, the
vile, malignant cheers and boasts of demons. “The Lord is dead!
The Lord is dead! Crucified, how sweet! The Lord is dead! The
Lord is dead! Make haste to the feast! Make haste!” The
bloodthirsty chants continued to rage and fuse with the screams
and cries of Adam’s Children—a most horrifying demonic
symphony of corrupted jubilance.
The Savior’s stomach turned within Him and His eyes began
to moisten. He reached out His hand and began to burn an
ancient utterance into the walls of Hell, ‘I have led captivity
captive.’ The burning hand of the Almighty slowly fell to His
waist side. Behind the fiery words the shape of a door mystically
appeared. The Son of Paradise blinked in astonishment; the
Souls of the Righteous were on the other side! With the passionof-heaven, the Son of God lifted His right arm to enter the
unknown realm; but the faintest whisper arose within, “Find the
Patriarch. You must find the Patriarch.” The Healer of Humanity
removed His hand in obedience and the cryptic-door faded from
sight; all that remained were the words He had burned into the
walls of perdition.
The Virgin's Son gracefully raised His eyes toward the
winding caverns before Him. The Christ of Nazareth longed to
save every soul, but in wisdom, He knew that many would not
come with Him, because their hearts were poisoned with the
wine of delusion and the mead of pride; conceit was their god
and master, the fountain in which they bathed.
Suddenly, the feet, which trodden the bloody path to Calvary
moved beneath Him. The walls were narrow and the caverns
were short and various. Each seemed to end only seconds after
they had begun, blurring His surroundings like a whirling
vision. Torches lined the sharp and jagged walls and the
Shepherd of Souls was constantly being thrown in and out of
darkness—but His revelatory countenance was fixed and strong.
The voices grew nearer, the heat increased, and the heart
within the Wisdom of Heaven beat faster and faster. Lower and
lower, the King of Angels descended into the pit of corruption.
In the distance, the Everlasting Warrior, Who had suffered
death for all, saw the shape of three demons, He knew them all
by name; what they used to look like before the war in heaven,
what their fate could have been, had they chosen to remain true
to the light.
“Balsius, Draylon, Fiendeo!” The three demons turned in
absolute fear at the sound of His voice and immediately fell to
their knees, shaking. The Son of The Most High peered down
and with only a thought, bound them to their place. “Balsius…”
the Lord spoke; the ancient demon was trembling
uncontrollably, “take Me to the Feasting Hall,” He said in a
terrifying whisper.
Balsius fearfully rose to his feet and began to walk down one
of the cavernous hallways. The Lord of Light whispered to
Himself in an unknown tongue, the demon Balsius continued to
contort in agony with every sacred syllable. The chaotic revelry
was coming closer and closer as the Prince of Peace broadened
His shoulders, ready for the eternal moment.
Suddenly, the narrow, torch-lit cave opened up to a vast and
burning gulf. Layer upon layer of descending dungeons and
fiery caverns came into view. The sounds of demonic rapture
and the bemoaning souls of men reverberated before the Ruler
of Spirits and the King of Psalms.
The fallen-mutilated-angel shook quietly next to Him, “Go
back to your cave, cursed one,” The Light spoke with measured
prudence. Balsius scurried away in tormented relief. The
Champion of Realms walked into the heat of the Absent-Light
and peered down, across the ravine, observing the plight of
those who had chosen darkness over light, hatred over love,
revenge over mercy, lust over fidelity and self over the Ancient
of Days. Compassion rushed through His sacred-bloodstream,
just below the surface of His transient-skin, protecting His
phantom-frame like a holy shield.
Six levels below Him, across the great chasm, The Prince of
Heaven could see Lucifer, the once-splendid, radiant and
magnificent Light-Bearer, seated on a flaming throne of
decadence and murder. His appearance was powerful and
gloriously adorned with innumerable corrupted attributes of
The Most High. Satan was feasting on the souls of the dead,
raising his dark, golden cup high into the air, toasting with his
various miserable devils.
The eyes of Christ shifted to the myriad chambers around and
below Him, of shackled souls; self-gods locked in the unseen
shadows of their own loathing. Each one, He knew by name; the
Spirit, Who was raising Him from the dead, imparted this
knowledge upon every glance. He saw their creation, their
longings, their fears and sins—He saw their hopes and He heard
their prayers inside of His mind, since time immemorial. His
eyes filled with tears, as He looked upon each of them.
Then, the Second Adam gracefully lifted His robe off and
gently laid it on the burning ground beside Him. The Son of Man
stood naked, overlooking the pit of utter corruption and
hopelessness. As He did this, a dazzling celestial light began to
emanate from His spirit-form.
The heads of demons from the lowest to the highest order
began to turn at the alien-sight. The eyes of men and women,
lost in the blindness of rage and remorse opened and began to
stare; transfixed and almost wounded by the foreign vision.
The Evil One, himself, peered across the divide in abject
horror, dropping his golden cup of triumph onto the ashes
beneath him.
The revelry ceased. The wailing subsided, little by little until
there was absolute silence in the halls of perdition. Every demon
fell to his knees, trembling in terror. The spirit-bodies of Adam’s
children, fell prostrate in fearful reverence. Satan could not
move; the authority of the Eternal One had bound all of his
supernatural faculties.
Then, in the presence of the Hordes of Hell, before the throne
of Satan and his assemblies, to the fallen beloved, The Mercy of
Heaven spoke, His voice echoing over the darkness:
“The Eternal Lamb of God, was crucified—and is raised from
the dead, in accordance with the imperishable Word-of-the Almighty! I, the Everlasting Lamb of God, have taken away the sins of the world!
I, the Lion of the Tribe of Judah have devoured
the lies of your ruler! I, even I, the Alpha and the Omega, the
Beginning and the End, have reconciled the sons of Adam and
the Daughters of Eve to My Heavenly Father! This fallen and
cursed angel that you serve...” the Apocalyptic Prophet pointed
directly at Satan from across the divide, who was fuming, but
still unable to speak, “...this Father of Lies and Ruler of Chaos,
has no power over you any longer! Look with your eyes and see
how he has not the strength to speak or the will to fight! He is
powerless against My Gospel of Grace! Come pagans! Come
heathens! Come barbarians and brutes! Come sinners and fallen
ones! All who yearned for Me in blindness, come and see with
your own eyes the consummation of your desire and the
fulfillment of your ignorant faith! Those who worshipped myths
and legends, bowing before idols of superstition and stone, come
and receive the blessed wine of Truth and Redemption! Come
sons of mercy! Come daughters of grace! I AM the Salvation of
your soul! Come drunkards, swindlers and thieves! Come
wayward children of My Father and inherit the kingdom, which
has been prepared for you from the foundation of the world!
Cast off the shackles of wickedness and despair; receive the
wisdom of the Father of Lights! Abandon yourselves and run
into the Land of the Living! All sins have been forgiven! I have
overcome the world! I have led captivity captive! I have crushed
the serpent’s head! I have swallowed up death! Come and drink!
Come to the heavenly banquet! I offer you My Body and My
Blood as your amnesty and incorruptible joy! This, is your
immortal-hour of redemption!”
Silence hung over the deep; dancing flames whispered to one
another without apprehension, mimicking the curse of Babel.
Every soul beheld the Man. The Bright and Morning Star clothed
Himself again with the humble robe of a Nazarene. The Legions
of Tophet and Fiends of Gehenna were silent, enveloped in the
terror, which only fallen angels possess the knowledge of.
The Cross-Bearer looked down, beyond the Feasting Hall to
the east of Him, spotting the River of Acheron flowing and
burning with anguish. He looked again at the Enemy of Love,
who was seething upon his wretched throne. The Word of God
raised His mighty right hand and gently touched His lips,
releasing the Serpent from his silence; even upon this hour, the
Master of Heaven would not violate the freedom of man to
choose his eternal-fate.
Satan let out a roar more thunderous than any the earth, or
her creatures, had ever heard. The hordes of demons awoke
from their trance, repositioning themselves for defense. The
Ruler of Hell called for his scepter and began to advance to
another post. One of his generals, who was still standing in
shock, spoke, “What shall we do now, master?” Satan turned
around inflamed, “What we always do… LIE!!!”
His face trembled with madness and rage. The demon
responded, “But what do we do about…” the fiend could not
bear to speak the Lord’s Name, “…about Him?” he whispered.
Satan thundered back, “He won’t force the humans to believe. It
doesn’t matter what the truth is. It matters what they believe!
Listen to your father, all of us were unjustly banished from the
Celestial Realm, and now, we will banish the Nazarene from our
kingdom. We will spew the most glorious venom the
Underworld has ever seen and send this feeble Christ back to
His oppressive Father with despair and turmoil over the vanity
of His crucifixion!”
The demonic horde regained an inkling of maniacal
confidence and began to march into the dense shadowy-halls,
following their Deplorable Ruler.
The Christ of Paradise moved quickly; time was not alive in
this realm in the mortal-sense; but urgency was. He was to take
His Gospel to all the aching souls of abandoned faith—one by
one, in mystical glory. He was to speak below the incessant din
of distortion and lies, touching the space of holiness bound
within the lost and wayward descendants of Adam. He was to
look them in the eye, and offer the miracle of reconciliation and
boundless-grace. He carried within Him the weight of His
Eternal Father’s intention; all was to be accomplished, before the
rising of the earth-sun on the third day of the transient-age.

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