Echoes from the Underworld

Transcription of Podcast Episode 75 - Recorded November 2024

NOTE: Art and transcription are computer-generated. For more humanity, check out the recording here.

Greetings and salutations. I hope your day is both tranquil and fulfilling. I am Athanasius, and welcome back to The Podcast of the Boldly Immortal.

It has been a minute. Have I been busy? Perhaps. More accurately, I have been otherwise occupied. Life in the real world has demanded much of me, and the more I engage with it, the more I realize that this is what truly matters:

I have a son. He is a year old. It is hard to put into words what that means. What does it mean to be a father? I believe fatherhood is a special gift given to men so that we may come to know the Father. By experiencing what it means to be a father, we may better understand Him. That is a powerful realization.

In fact, I think this is why the godlessness of our culture is so predictable. The degradation of fatherhood—the hatred of the patriarch—goes hand in hand with godlessness, with hatred of the Almighty Father. And if you hate the Father, you hate the Son. You cannot love the Son and hate the Father, nor hate the Father and love the Son. Our land's separation from Christ and the Father is inevitable when we devalue and degrade fatherhood. Sitting in the seat of a father makes this all the more evident.

My journey of learning what it means to be a father has been profound. Having a son has clarified many things and shifted my priorities. Some things now seem more important than ever before. I no longer want to sit in front of a screen more than necessary. I want to be with my son. I want to do what truly matters for his world, and that is not found online.

There was a time, as a younger man, when I was alone. Some of you listening may be in that place now, feeling like you are wandering the wilderness. I remember those days—my college years, when I had few friends. Part of it was that I simply did not have people around me who made me feel at home. Another part was that my homeschooling experience had shaped my sense of home so deeply that it was difficult for anyone outside my family to evoke that feeling.

Church was home. Not because of familiar faces, but because it was my Father's house. When I entered the Lord’s house, I became one with Christ, one with the Son, a child of the Heavenly Father. That was home, and I could feel it because of the liturgy. Outside of church, nothing carried my Father’s culture. People did not speak the way He does. People did not sing as we always do in my Father’s house. Only in church did I experience that sense of belonging.

I found this to be true in college, in India, in Detroit—each place with its own challenges. The unfamiliarity reminded me of what it means to have brothers. Family does not mean constant agreement, but it does mean that you belong. That is something I did not find anywhere else.

I did not concern myself with church politics. It was enough to be home, to be grateful that I was home, and to encourage others in that same realization. Now that I am older, I see a new battle—one I must fight for my son, for the next generation, so that they may have the home I was blessed to have. That includes my next child, due in May of next year. If you have a chance to visit, I would love to introduce you to the new little one, who, by God’s grace, will be born around that time. Lord knows.

I remember my own father sending me out into the world. He told me to go and do something, to bring honor to the family. At least, that is what it seems in retrospect. He told me to carry myself with honor and do what I was meant to do. That was a lonely time. I entered a foreign land, a wild country. I had an embassy in the church, a place to retreat, but all around me were enemies—or allies who did not yet understand the full scope of the battle. Some of them have since come to understand. Some have become true brothers. One, in particular, has returned to the church after college, and I hope to see him soon.

But that loneliness—that search for brotherhood, for safety, for rest, for righteous warfare—defined those years. I wanted allies, brothers with whom to fight, side by side. I wanted to know I was not alone. And because I was alone, I sought refuge online.

But life online is not living.

The underworld is hollow. We enter these portals—books, screens, games, and media—and suddenly, our minds are cast into other worlds with different rules. Truth itself shifts. A book can construct its own truth, separate from reality. A movie, a game, a television screen—it all leaks from the underworld into reality. This is not darkness in the simple sense, but a different fire that casts its own shadows.

Best to enter the underworld with true light. Best to see with clear eyes.

You are listening to this now—my voice reaches you across the ether, through an invisible plane. This is a mystical transmission, a message cast into the waves of a vast ocean. And that ocean is filled with debris and dark things below the surface. If you have been here, you know.

Beware.

Here there be dragons. Leviathan circles the depths. Watch, and build wisely. You do not know when or if the attack will come. Trust the Lord to keep you safe, but do not venture into the dark waters unguarded.

And yet, here you are. You have found this message. Perhaps this is not mere chance. Perhaps you know me. If so, this is not a message in a bottle but a torch handed directly to you. You are not alone. But I am not the one with you. I am just a voice. If you seek companionship, look to those around you—your neighbors, your brothers in Christ. They need you, and you need them. We must be men together again.

Perhaps, though, you are alone. You go to the Father’s house when you can, but you feel surrounded by blind men. You are weary. You have lost the will to fight because you believe you will not be heard. I have been there. I assure you.

But listen: the war is already won.

The battle you see is the aftermath—the enemy's last gasps. Do not be afraid. Fear belongs to the Lord alone. He has poured out His righteous anger upon Christ, and for you, there is only peace. You do not have to be angry. You do not have to fear. Your Father sees you, and He delights in you.

So, what are you waiting for? Step away from the underworld. Light a fire. Read the words of Jesus. Rest. It is not optional, it is mandated.

The darkness will not be beaten back by swords of the underworld. The only way to fight is with the true light. Take up the breastplate of righteousness, the shield of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.

And remember: the war is over.

You do not need to run. Walk. Slow down. Take in the beauty of life. The enemy is a sore loser, holding out in small pockets of resistance. There is no rush. Take your time. The race you run is not of this world.

So breathe.

I am glad you are here. But I have work to do in reality, and so do you. If you need me, if you seek knowledge or encouragement, reach out. But above all, seek Christ, seek the truth, and stand firm. Be a father. Be a hero. Be a man of God.

Let me shine some clear light before our parting:

"I write to you little children because your sins are forgiven you for His name's sake.
I write to you, fathers, because you have known Him who is from the beginning.
I write to you young men, because you have overcome the wicked one.
I write to you little children because you have known the Father.
I write to you, fathers, because you have known Him who is from the beginning.
I have written to you young men, because you are strong, and the word of God abides in you, and you have overcome the wicked one."

And now, little children, abide in Him.

Amen.