The Word and the Warrior

Disclaimer:

This may not be for everyone, but for those with an open mind, this story is a faith-based interpretation of Scripture, written in a narrative style. It is not presented as historical non-fiction, but as a creative retelling meant to explore spiritual themes through storytelling.

The Word and the Warrior

The heavens split open. A blast of the trumpet shook the earth, rolling like thunder across oceans and mountains. The dead stirred in their graves. The living fell to their knees. Then came the voice. Not the voice of a servant, not a cry from another being, but the voice of the archangel. The great prince. Michael. And the world trembled because they recognized the name behind that sound. Jesus Christ, the Lord Himself.

John had written it long before this moment. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” He was with God in the beginning, and through Him all things were made. The Word was no distant echo, no second-hand messenger. He was the eternal Son of the Father. Heaven had known Him as Michael, the commander, the archangel, the great prince.

It was His footsteps that Adam and Eve heard in Eden. “And they heard the sound of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day.” The Father remained enthroned, Spirit unseen, but the Son walked in the garden, His presence filling the air with the weight of heaven. He was the visible Lord who moved among His creation, the bridge between the throne of God and the dust of man.

Centuries passed, and He appeared again outside Jericho. Joshua lifted his eyes and saw a warrior with a drawn sword in His hand. The figure’s presence burned like fire. Joshua tightened his grip on his own blade.

“Are you for us,” Joshua demanded, “or for our adversaries?”

“Neither,” the man answered. His voice cut through the air like a blade. “As commander of the army of the LORD, I have now come.”

Joshua dropped to the ground, face in the dirt. He knew he was not standing before a common soldier. He bowed low, trembling. “What does my lord say to his servant?”

The commander’s eyes burned with the same authority that sat on the throne of heaven. “Remove your sandals from your feet. The place where you stand is holy.”

Michael. The Son. The commander of heaven’s hosts, sanctifying the ground by His presence.

And once more, He spoke from fire. Moses drew near a bush that burned but was not consumed. “Moses, Moses,” the voice called.

“Here I am,” Moses answered.

“Do not come near,” the voice thundered. “Take your sandals off your feet, for the place on which you are standing is holy ground. I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob.”

Moses hid his face, afraid to look upon God. Yet it was the Angel of the LORD, Michael, the Son, bearing the Name, speaking as YHWH, accepting worship, commanding holy ground.

Others saw Him and trembled. Gideon built an altar after fire consumed his offering at the Angel’s touch. Manoah, father of Samson, cried out, “We shall surely die, for we have seen God.” For they knew the Angel of the LORD was not a servant. He was God’s Son, appearing before His time.

The adversary saw Him too. Satan accused Joshua the high priest, but the Angel of the LORD turned and declared, “The LORD rebuke you, O Satan. The LORD, who has chosen Jerusalem, rebuke you.” Centuries later, Jude would describe Michael the archangel contending with the devil over the body of Moses, saying, “The Lord rebuke you.” The same words. The same authority. The same voice.

Daniel’s visions named Him openly. “Michael, one of the chief princes, came to help me.” “Michael, your prince.” “Michael, the great prince who stands over your people.” No created angel bore such titles. Only the Son could. Michael was Israel’s defender, heaven’s prince, the commander of armies.

Then came the greatest moment of all. The Word became flesh. The commander of heaven, the Angel of the LORD, the great prince, stepped into the womb of Mary and was born Jesus of Nazareth. Michael became Jesus. The Son took on humanity, yet He remained what He had always been.

On earth, He spoke as He always had. He commanded unclean spirits, and they shrieked as they fled. He calmed storms with a word, and the sea obeyed. His disciples returned wide-eyed, saying, “Lord, even the demons are subject to us in your name.” They did not yet understand. The name itself was the eternal authority of the archangel, the Son, the Word of God.

Paul wrote that the Lord Jesus will destroy the lawless one “with the breath of his mouth.” The same voice that rebuked Satan, the same breath that commanded armies, would one day slay with a word. The voice of the archangel was His own.

John’s Revelation showed it clearly. First, he saw Michael and his angels fighting the dragon and casting him down. Late, he saw a rider on a white horse. “Faithful and True,” called “the Word of God.” He rode at the head of the armies of heaven, crowned King of kings and Lord of lords. Michael and the rider were not two leaders. They were one. The great prince revealed as Jesus Christ.

And so the story closes as it began. The trumpet sounds. The heavens split. The voice of the archangel shakes creation. And that voice belongs to no other. It belongs to Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Word who walked in Eden, the commander who faced Joshua, the Angel of the LORD who spoke from the bush, the great prince who defended Israel, the Savior born of Mary. Michael, who became flesh. Jesus, who is Lord. The same, yesterday, today, and forever.

Author’s Note

Tags used: support, humanity, how-to, family, advice

I wrote this story and used these tags because it offers support to those seeking strength in faith, speaks to our shared humanity, serves as a how-to for reading Scripture with an open mind, reflects the family we share as children of God, and gives advice for anyone searching for truth.