I beheld the thrones being cast down,
and the Ancient of Days did sit,
whose garment was white as snow,
and the hair of His head like the pure wool
Christ is not described here as the Ancient of Years, which would imply age,
but Ancient of Days, which indicates His ageless, timeless, changeless character.
No wrinkles or furrows disfigure His graceful features,
No defects mar His clear discernment,
No weakness in His wondrous will.
His body of glory and countenance of beauty are unwrinkled by years,
His vigorous vitality and virtuous energy are unwearied.
Years and millenniums are absolutely unable to age this ageless One who abides unchanged,
He is The same yesterday, and today, and forever
The march of seasons cannot mar His fairness
Nasty weather doesn’t destroy His freshness,
He has the dew of His youth
The centuries can’t change His beauty or cramp His competence,
He is immune to infirmity and untouched through all infinity.
Pre-eminence belongs to the Ancient of Days by virtue of His priority and precedence,
He has the permanence of immortal perfection.
Christ is the embodiment of the glories of Godhead,
Jesus embraces all the treasures of truth, the loveliness of light and the splendors of sublimity
He never ages, in His lasting heritage.
A myriad of marvels manifest themselves out of His exhaustless storehouse;
yet no diminution of His resource is occasioned.
As we contemplate
His prescient eye
His providential care,
His patient ear
His paternal interest,
His prevalent grace
His prevailing goodness,
These are the profound delights of His abiding attributes
None of these realities grows stale but is just as fresh and full and free as ever.
The emerald throne of His majesty symbolizes the evergreen nature of His amaranthine beauty.
He is as young as the morning, although it be of ancient origin.
He is as youthful as daybreak, a feature which thrilled our earliest ancestors.
He who shielded Abraham
He who sustained Elijah and stayed the plague
He is the Ancient of Days, even the Almighty.
His energy knows nothing of exhaustion
His freshness never faces fatigue.
The brilliance of His brightness never blurs,
The sunlike sheen of His sympathetic face never shadows
The sufficiency of His saving strength never stalls,
His “hand is not shortened, that it cannot save”
We may adopt garnished oratory to attract attention and elaborate with seraphic eloquence
to awaken admiration, but how paltry is our best phraseology compared with one glimpse of
the Ancient of Days.
Show me Your face,
one transient gleam
Of loveliness divine,
And I shall never think or dream
Of other love but Yours.
All lesser lights
shall lessen quite,
All lower glories wane,
The beautiful of earth shall scarce
Seem beautiful again
Adapted from Charles Rolls