Telos Khronos-An End Times Parable

Telos Khronos

An End Times Parable

Grace Lossev

Telos Khronos – An End Times Parable

By Grace Lossev

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Grace Lossev

Cover Design and Layout by Bryan Donker

Table of Contents

Acknowledgement

Telos Khronos – An End Time Parable

The Shoe Cobbler

The Musician Comes to Town

The Musician’s Followers are Found

at Fault.

The Officials Begin Their Own Music

The Original Music Discovered

Taking the Music to a New World

The Music’s Last Message Played

to the World

The Bitter Disappointment

How it All Started

Battle thru the Ages

The Final Showdown

The Musician Delivers .

Natas Tries One More Time

The New Planet

Excerpts from The Great Controversy

City of Rebellion

Loyal and True

Christianity Becomes Popular

Great Darkness

Morning Star of the Reformation

Huss Defies the Institution

Luther Ushers a New Era in Christianity

Luther Stands Firm for the Bible

Religious Liberty in the USA.

New Light in the New World

Messages of the Three Angels of

Revelation 14

Disappointed

Reaping the Whirlwind

Second Angel: Babylon Fallen

The Mystery Unfolds

The Immutable Law

Important of the Sabbath Commandment

The USA Represented by a Lamblike Beast

Preparing for Trial

Reconciliation Starts with Sin

Conviction

A Look at the Record

Sin Originated with Lucifer

Universal War

Life After Death?

Dead People are Not Conscious

Spirits of the New Age

The United States in Prophecy

The Impending Conflict

The Only Safeguard

The Greatest Test of Loyalty

The Time of Trouble

Delivered!

Total Destruction

Eternal Peace

Acknowledgment

I'd like to thank God for His blessings on this project, bringing many talented and supportive people together to spread His message to the world. 

To my husband, Dmitry Lossev for his encouragement in producing this parable in print even before it was written. And his love, support, and sacrifice to make this book a reality.

To Bryan Donker for his friendship, cover design, assistance with the layout, and for his gift of creativity.

To my parents, David and June, who supported me through each step of the process and recognized the value of the message in this format. I thank them for their love and prayers for me.

To Dorothea Cheek for her enthusiastic support and prayers for the publishing of these timely messages.  

To God's messenger, Ellen White, who wrote the book from which this parable is conceived. 

To all my family and friends who believed and prayed for this project. 

The Shoe Cobbler

Zeke put down the shoe leather on the shelf and wiped his hands shiny with oil. Age wrinkled his brow, wisps of white hair poked from his ears. His overalls showed the stains of shoe polish. From an early age as a young man he found himself the village Shoe Cobbler. His small shop sat along a cobblestone road. The sign, once shiny and new, hung from a wrought iron post. Weather tarnished it over the years. The letters still etched against the beaten wood displaying the words Shoe Cobbler.

The villagers brought their broken bootstraps and all manner of shoes to the simple shop. Zeke knew each person by name and cultivated relationships with them. He inquired about each family how the children were getting along or if the harvest went well that year.The villagers enjoyed visiting ‘Old Zeke’ as they affectionately coined him. As Zeke grew into his twilight years, they often wondered when he would close up his shop. Day after day Zeke opened his shop with a benevolent smile for each person walking through the door. He still had a purpose to open the doors and be a useful service for the village.

In those days, life treated Zeke well. He even whistled as he hammered a sole onto the bottom of a shoe. His leathery hands matched the materials he worked on, but he didn’t mind.

In the evening, the old Cobbler hobbled stiffly along the familiar path to his cottage where his wife stirred the stew in the pot. After a usual greeting to his wife, Zeke headed to a back room and picked up a violin case. He adjusted the bow and tuned the strings. Tightening the white horsehair of the bow, he held the old violin by its’ smooth, wooden neck. Soon a sweet tune appeared filling the tiny cottage. Zeke adjusted the wooden stand he had carved from beech wood that held the tattered pages of his music. This music survived numerous storms, extreme heat and many other circumstances that otherwise would destroy it. The notes hand copied with love on parchment paper. Yellowed and torn edges covered the corners of the music. Zeke tenderly rolled them smooth from time to time just to be able to read the notes.

Soon the sweet melodies fill the air. Zeke’s wife cocked an ear towards the back of the room and smiled. She heard the music many times over the years. She remembered as a young woman how Zeke serenaded her with the very same music.

What’s the name of this tune? she had asked as they courted in the meadows nearby.

It’s from an old source. No one knows where Andele came from and how the music came about. He composed all the music I play.

Indeed, Andele did live so long ago that no one lived to document his compositions. The story is passed down through the ages depicting Andele composing with fury though the course of one week. Each day new variations added to the previous day. In the end a masterpiece remained.

The story goes that as Andele spoke, notes appeared on the pages as if everything had its proper order. On the first day, a bass line appeared laying the foundation. On the second day, a bass tenor part complimented the bass line. On the third day, an alto tenor part followed. On the fourth and fifth day, harmonic alto parts joined along. On the sixth day, a mezzo-soprano part arose. On the seventh day brought a climax with a beautiful solo soprano part, a crowning memorial and highlight of the music.

Zeke reached a particularly high note with gusto. He usually played this solo part although at times he tinkered on the alto parts because those tunes had a richer tone. Even played on its own, the alto part sounded quite melodic. The best blend occurs when a full orchestra and choir produces a rendition much like the classic Hallelujah chorus.

Zeke also enjoyed when his son Dan visited from a neighboring town. Dan would bring his cello and played along with his father. Late into the evening the duo would pour their souls into the music. Dan often would improvise the melody lifting his cadenzas high on the fingerboard of his cello.

Where did you hear this cadenza? Zeke questioned his son.

It’s here in my head and heart, Dan replied, Andele put it there.

Among the Townspeople a select few looked deeper into Dan’s music. On the surface, it appeared like a frightening rendition of Andele’s composition. But upon closer inspection, they found a beautiful message. Dan’s pieces revealed a future for the Townspeople. His variations of Andele’s movements revealed different eras in history. At the final climax Andele returns to the village himself to receive his people back to the Kingdom of the Sky.

Way in the past, to preserve the music, various people copied each line by hand in a painstaking manner to pass down the copies to each succeeding generation. The power in the music drew people to the composer. But as the years passed on, people lost interest in the music. Many earnest musicians tried to revive it. They posted announcements of a Grand Concert at the town hall. When the concert began, few people filled the plush red seats. The Townspeople engrossed themselves in cricket games and gambling at the horse races.

The Musician Comes to Town

The music lay abandoned deep in the corners of the closets. For a time, it seemed the music would be lost forever. One day a certain Musician came into town and took out his instrument. He stood in the town square and started to play the music that sounded so familiar.

That’s Andele’s second movement, an old man remarked as he squinted his eyes and cocked an ear toward the stage.

No. You are mistaken, the town Official replied as he straightened his collar and looked uncomfortable.

I should go home and pull out my music, the old man hung his head low.

This Musician doesn’t know what he is playing, the Official’s eyes narrowed, he doesn’t belong here.

As he looked around, several people nodded their agreement. Gaining more confidence the Official came to the edge of the stage and shouted, Leave this town! You don’t belong here!

The Musician lowered his violin, I come to remind you of Andele’s wonderful composition, he spoke to the Official, see how even the children keep still and listen in peace.

Nonsense! yelled the Official, you are destroying our peace! You don’t belong here! Get out!

More people joined in the shouting, voicing their own opinions. One of the men picked up a clump of dirt and hurled it in the Musician’s direction. He deftly avoided the crumbling object. With the sad look, the Musician headed out from the town.

A few of the people followed the Musician. Zeke followed too.

Master, they asked as they caught up to him, we believe in your music. May we copy it down? As the Musician began to play again, they carefully transcribed the music outside the town limits.

I’m going back to join Andele, he told them.

How do you know Andele? the people questioned.

We come from the same place. And someday we will come back and take you all there. The people looked incredulous.

Stay true to the music, he replied and disappeared in the distance.

The people held their sheet music and looked at each other in amazement.

We must tell the others! their eyes sparkled.

As evening came to the town, the Officials collected their torches. A mob gathered in the center square.

We will quiet the Musician once and for all. He is claiming he comes from the same place as Andele and is spreading lies about himself. He scolds us for living the way we do. He needs to be stopped! The Official felt himself getting red in the face. The other Officials nodded showing their agreement.

Let us bring him to the outskirts of town and hang him! they yelled their approval.

Hang him! Hang the Musician! they found one of the Townspeople who copied the music and ordered him to let them know where the Musician went. They gave the person a treasure chest of gold to coerce the villager.

He looked at his music with a wistful look but then his eyes grew large at the treasure chest spilling over with gold coins.

I will show you the Musician, he motioned with his hand. And the Officials eagerly went forth with their torches burning in the distance. The Musician saw them coming and did not fight them as they tied him up. It is as if he already knew what they planned to do. Some of the Townspeople sobbed as they saw the Musician led to a hill outside the town where a gallows stood waiting for him. He meekly put his head in the noose and the Officials rang out a cry of victory as the trapdoor swung open. The Townspeople looked on in horror. Those who copied down the music ran swiftly away from the scene. They could be the next targets - the Followers of the Musician. As they caught sight of their village in the distance, big columns of smoke filled the air.

Our homes! they screamed as they rushed back towards the inferno. That day many homes were destroyed to the foundation. The villagers salvaged but just a few belongings. One of these villagers was Zeke, who came running into town with the other Followers of the Musician. To his relief he found his instrument intact with his beloved music he painstakingly copied from the Musician himself. Flames licked the edges of the music but he could still read the notes. Zeke preserved the music that he plays in that warm little cottage