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Gods and Gods
A Collection of Parables by
Zach Selby
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Z a c h S e l b y is a student at Vanderbilt Divinity School as of August2012. Perhaps he will be kicked out soon. He has a BA in Biblical
Studies from Belmont University. He writes jokes on Twitter, reads
books for fun, and is an avid supporter of Esports. He blogs at Gods andGods.
Someday Zach will be gone, as will these stories written by him.
For now, though, enjoy them.
Cover photo credit to Donnie Hedden. His work can be found at
dhedden.com
Gods and Gods. Copyright 2012 Zach Selby. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 978-1-300-12333-0
\_()_/
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For Jacob and James
and everyone who has gone on before
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Tab le o f Con ten t s
I n t r o d u c t i o n 7
T h e H a r d , S t o n e Q u a g m i r e 1 1
T h e Q u i c k G a z e D o w n 3 7
T h e W a y O n w a r d 6 3
C o n c l u s i o n 9 3
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In t roduc t i on The power of parable is easily identifiable in the Christian tradition
through the prevalence of the genre throughout the four gospels. These
perplexing, countercultural stories were often sources of conflict or
confusion for both those who were closest to Jesus and those who
opposed his ministry. Why a parable though? Would it not be more
beneficial to have an expert break into the discussion and let everyone in
on the secret? Is not the clandestine quality of truth in parables a
disconcerting and inefficient means of organizing and educating a group?
Yet despite these qualms about parables, sermons are still created around
parables, exegesis of these stories is a lively field of theology, and
questions of meaning are commonplace in all forms of Christian
community. Parables, it seems, connect on a primal level to the story
telling that defines human identity and is non-duplicable in
straightforward speech. Parables leave the hearer with a sneaking
suspicion that she has not quite gotten it; parables live in the space of
ambiguity that is often disdained in religious life.
Every story we tell about ourselves or our religion is full of this
ambiguity, yet doubt and unknowing in matters of religion seem
antipodal to modern conceptions of religious truth. Parables are able to
cut this need for knowledge along its sinews and tendons to reveal a
traumatic moment of truth that lies under each particular religious
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instance. That is to say, parables are essentially anti-truth by virtue of
failing to really mean anything at all. Instead parables function as a
canvas upon which truth can be painted. This idea of anti-truth leads to
the first structural remark about this work itself; I originally intended for
these parables to be accompanied by commentary of their own. The
commentaries turned out to be cumbersome and esoteric, which was no
doubt influenced by my own writing style. Thus, I have abandoned the
commentaries in favor of replicating a blank slate upon which reflection
and unknowing can occur.
Secondly, these parables are sort of a collection of cheap tricks in
themselves, i.e. the parables have few highly praiseworthy literary
qualities. To counter this lack of rhetorical bravado, I must enlist the
reader to supply the necessary religious and spiritual content to formulate
these parables into something worthwhile. I encourage you to take a slow
pace with these parables and let your mind work on them slowly, while
they slowly and subtly work on you as well.
Furthermore, I must add some citations and clarifications on the
whole of this work. I originally came into contact with the idea of
working with parables as a genre through the work of Peter Rollins
entitled The Orthodox Heretic. This volume is widely available and a key
piece of literature for understanding some of the foundations of pyro-
theology and other ecclesial postmodern Christian theologies.
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Throughout the course of these parables one may encounter
some familiar turns of phrase, ideas, or even entire jokes. A few of these
instances may be accidental coincidences, such as the parable The
Monster in which I found an affinity with a certain Nietzschean
aphorism three months after writing it. Other times, such as in the parable
The Way and The Truth, I borrowed ideas and motifs from established
theologies. In this particular case it is the theology of J.A. DiNoia. In
most cases, I have tried to credit the original author; however I am certain
that there are other affinities I have been unable to cite due to a lack of
explicit knowledge of certain philosopher or theologians work. After all,
carrying out the admonition of Ecclesiastes to its logical conclusion
would lead me into an eternal loop of citations and meta-citations.
The structure of this volume is conflicted, and I admit this from
the outset. Those who are looking for a purely constructive theological
enterprise will be disappointed by the parables, which resist any firm
moral interpretation. Simultaneously, those who are looking for a purely
objective canvas upon which the Christian tradition can be dissected will
be disillusioned by structural prodding towards a various ethical/religious
idea. Ideally, these parables would be a stone for some to step on and
others to trip upon. However, I fear most of the activity will be tripping.
Yet, one must continue onward despite these structural problems. The
purpose of this volume is to create a space where multiple manifestations
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of religious belief can be revealed, especially the few bastions of
objectivity that remain paramount to political, ethical, or social
questions. Furthermore, I must concede that this volume is only written
by one white, Western male who grew up in the Bible Belt. I have only
one perspective and phenomenological disposition to the world, and for
that I am, actually, thankful. I can make no claim that these parables
represent a fruitful spiritual exercise for anyone beside myself; yet,
through these parables my personal religious experience has forever been
changed. I can only hope it will do the same for you.
Finally, I wish to give a brief thanks to all who were involved in
making this work possible. Those who read my work in all of its infantile
stages were integral in the pruning of redundant and non-effective
parables, and yet, despite their best efforts, I have still managed to sneak
in some sub-par work. My teachers and mentors may have thought they
were merely preparing me to pass tests, but in every encounter we had,
they shared thoughts that were truly brilliant and inspiring. My parents
and family have literally provided the material, spiritual, and emotional
means through which my writing was possible. I thank them for being the
best parents and family any child could hope for. Thanks also to my
editor, and better half, Katie Richards who has taken my manuscript and
turned it into something that actually looks like the English language.
Any mistakes contained within are entirely and utterly my own fault.
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T h e H a r d , S t o n e Q u a g m i r eThey do not know what they are doing, but they are doing it.
-Karl Marx, Capital, 1867.
born into this
walking and living through this
dying because of this
muted because of this
- Charles Bukowski, Dinosauria, we,from The Last Night of the Earth Poems, 1992.
Father forgive them; for they know not what they are doing.
- Luke 23:34
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T he K i ng o f H i s P eop l e
There was a violent invasion in the land. The King of this land was
unable to repulse the invaders, and his people were dying of hunger due
to blockades and sieges. The people cried out to the King, Please feed
us! But the King could do nothing to help them. The invaders continued
to push forward and they eventually took control of the capital city. The
King was forced out of his palace, and he had to rule from a rural town
far removed from the population centers. The invaders set up a new
government and began taxing and oppressing the people of the land.
There was widespread poverty and all social freedoms were suspended
under the new government. Then the people cried out to the King,
Please rule us! But the King was unable to retain his rule and enforce
the rights of the people in the Land. Eventually, the invaders decided the
native population was too much of a nuisance, and they began to
slaughter them by the thousands. The invaders were ruthless and killed
all types of people: women, children, and men. And the people cried out
to the King, Please save us! But the King could do nothing to save his
people.
Then the invaders began not only killing but maiming and
dismembering the people of the Land. The people once again started
crying out to King, Please save us! But the King could do nothing to
allow for his people to at least have a dignified death. During the Kings
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time in exile, he met and was endeared to a young peasant boy.
Eventually, the invaders found their way to the small town and started to
search for the King. The King knew that there was a shelter for him to
hide in, but he also knew that if he hid there and the invaders did not find
him, then the whole town would be burned and the people would be
killed. The King sat with the young boy on his lap debating with himself
what he was to do, and the young boy leaned up to the Kings ear and
whispered, Please save us. The King was moved to tears, and knew
exactly what he needed to do. He allowed himself to be captured and
taken to the Capital for a public execution.
The execution was televised, and all the people of the Land saw
their King before a firing squad. Throughout the Land, there was a loud
cry of sorrow because the King had not been able to save his people.
Once he was dead, there would be no escaping the wrath of the invaders.
Before the King died, he said, Im sorry. Theres nothing that I can do.
Then the King was killed. And the people declared, He couldnt feed us,
rule us, or save us; he was not our King. He was never our King. And
the invaders ruled the entire land.
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T he W el l W i t h i n O ur S i gh t
There has been an ancient ritual that has traditionally been performed at
the point in a young believers life that marks the start of a journey to
find God. Within a well dug long, long ago, there is a source of water just
like any other source of water. The earliest seekers of God began to
anoint those who would seek God beside and after them with this water
in a ritual that involved cupping the hands of each believer, filling these
hands with water, and telling the believer to put their hands to their
forehead to feel the presence of God anoint their search. The young
believers hands were tightly clenched; so that when the hands were put
to their forehead hardly any water touched their forehead, if it touched it
at all.
Over the years, the leaders of these believers began to realize the
pressures and expectations of the ritual, and the expectations of a God-
seeker had started to grow, even to the point of demanding a guarantee of
finding God. So in order to signify their close presence to the heart of
God, the mothers and fathers began leaving space for the water to anoint
the new believers. As the water splashed over the faces of the many
believers, they felt the presence of God stronger than they had at any
point beforehand, but the mothers and fathers could remember the way it
was before. They remembered the waiting and wandering that hardly
guaranteed an encounter with God.
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But the believers would not listen to the ways their elders spoke
fondly of this vacuum of the Divine, the believers wanted to hold their
hands looser and looser until they eventually began submersing the new
believers heads in the water completely. This led to more vivid
hallucinations and visions of God, and all but erased every memory of
the quiet waiting of the mothers and fathers of old. Eventually, this ritual
began to attract the attention of God.
As God looked upon the submerging of these childrens
heads under the water, God pondered aloud, Why do these, my children,
submerge their heads in this contaminated water, when I reside in the
desert all around this well?
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L o v e a n d P e r f e c t io n
A woman once came to her husband and asked, Why do you not love
me? I cook for you, bake for you, clean for you, and take care of you. All
of this I do without complaint. I do nothing but serve you. Why do you
not love me? Her husband replied, Yes, you have done all these things
you list, but you have not born a son to me that I could love with all my
heart. Visit the fertility clinic, and then well see about love. So, the
woman went and procured a prescription for fertility medication that
allowed her to bear a son for her husband. Years passed, and the son
grew strong and smart. One day the woman mustered the courage to ask
her husband the question of why he didnt love her as much as he loved
her son. And the husband replied once again, You have born a son and
you have carried out your duties faithfully, but your skin has become
splotchy and your belly has grown large. Take care of these physical
issues, and then we will speak of love. The woman began a harsh diet
and exercise plan, and she went to buy some beauty products to deal with
the scars of her past.
As she cultivated her beauty and begin to lose the weight she
gained during pregnancy, she noticed that her husband began to pay
much more attention to her. He obsessed over her when she was home,
and he began to worry about what she was doing outside of the home,
even to the point of becoming violently jealous. During one of his fits of
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rage she asked him, Why do you love me? I have changed myself so
much that I am no longer the quaint housewife who fulfills her duties and
parents her children. I have turned myself into something that is not who
I was. I am no longer your wife; I am your dream. He replied, nearing
the verge of tears, That is why I want you, that is why I love you. Ever
since we began this relationship I have been molding you to fulfill all of
my needs. Then as I grew old, my deepest needs would be your
specialties.
The wife thought this over for a minute, trying to decipher her
husbands honesty in this issue. Eventually, she turned away and began
to pack her things. This distressed the husband for his perfect companion
was leaving him despite his affection for her. And he asked her, Why do
you leave even though I have loved you since the beginning? We pledged
our love to one another, through sickness and health until death tears us
apart, and yet you are leaving? She thought nothing of this and
continued to pack her bags, but he insisted, You are defiling this
institution of marriage, you are ridiculing the very fabric of our society.
Once again, she ignored his pleas and continued packing. Finally, he
began to feel anger growing inside of him and told her, You do not love
me, because you have grown thick in your skin and vast in your beauty.
But do not forget where it was that I found you. I raised you up and have
provided for you, but you do not repay me for the goods, only for the
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wrongs. You are the one who will be ashamed by this. The woman
looked up and spoke to the now fuming man. I am not leaving because
you never loved me or because you have not provided for me. You have
done all this and more. Yet since I am perfect, you can no longer love
me.
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M o n k s a n d L u n c h e s
Two monks were sitting on a ledge enjoying lunch and silence together
one afternoon. All of the sudden, the younger monk feels a sharp blow to
his cheek and wakes up a few minutes later to the elder monk standing
over him. The elder monk says, Thank goodness, I thought you were
dead. The elder helps the dazed monk back to his feet and sits him down
on the ledge once again. Once the monk recovers, he reaches for his
lunch to continue to eat his lunch. But he realizes that its all gone. Not
only has he been assaulted, but he has been robbed. Confused, he asks the
elder monk where his lunch was hidden so it would not be stolen. The
elder monk tells the younger that it was he that assaulted and took the
monks lunch. The young, and now bruised, monk laughs heartily at such
a ridiculous claim. He replies, All in gest Father: Youre a monk
Monks dont steal lunches.
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P l an t i ng F l ow er s
There were two brothers who were sitting on a grassy hill that overlooked
the new landfill outside their town. Their town was a quaint suburb with
a few restaurants and a newly incorporated Walmart. However, this
landfill was a true eyesore on the landscape of this picturesque town. The
one brother decided to do something about the landfill. He told his
brother, Watch me. Ill go fix this new landfill. The brother watched
his fellow brother begin the walk to the landfill that laid a distance away
in a valley. Once the brother reached the landfill, he climbed to the very
top of the first pile of trash that had been accumulated and he planted the
most beautiful rose there. It was a luscious red and contrasted with the
eternal brown and black of the discarded plastic, metal, and glass. The
gardener brother thought to himself, What a monument to life and
beauty I have created. Though the waste threatens its existence
constantly, the rose still radiates its beauty across the valley.
The gardener brother finally returned to the top of the grassy hill
to speak with his brother about the rose and its beauty. But before the
gardener could utter a word, his brother spoke up, Do you realize what
youve done? Or what you havent done? The gardener brother
responded, Of course I do; I created beauty amidst the tragedy of the
waste. Nothing more, nothing less. But this was not the case in the
brothers mind, Youve done no such thing. Just because you made the
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landfill beautiful doesnt change the fact that theres a pile of trash under
it all.
And both of the boys wept.
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J i m m y H e n d e r s o n
There was an old man who walked the streets of his city every morning
in order to see the beauty and bustle of life around him. One day, he finds
himself in an unfamiliar part of town, and he encounters a set of identical
twins on the sidewalk. Feeling in a quite lovely state-of-mind, decides to
interrogate the boys about their similarities. The lads play along,
disclosing themselves truly at each point of interest. They were boys
from Tuscaloosa and had been born in the year 2000. Their mother was a
housewife and their father was a lawyer. Both parents had loved the boys
equally and given them a fair share of their attention and devotion.
But then a question was asked of the boys that made the
conversation take a spin towards the absurd. Well, which one of you is
the eldest?
I see not why that matters, my dear sir.
But there has to be something different about you two? Am I
right?
Oh, why would we be different? Weve been treated the same
since the beginning. No one thinks of us as different; were just the boys
who run and play and talk to girls, and shoot marbles.
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Now getting a bit flustered at their obvious jokes, the man asked
them their names, hoping to sort through the madness. But they replied,
Jimmy. Always have been, always will be Hopefully, at least. The
man walked off fuming at the disrespect of the boys, but as one can see
clearly Jimmy Henderson was left standing there as perplexed as he ever
had been. I just cant see why I would be born before or after myself. I
am only one; arent I?
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T h e D a y o f A t o n e m e n tAfter the bull had been slaughtered, lots were cast to see which of the
goats presented would bear the sins of the people away from the land of
Israel. This process went on without any hiccups or significant
occurrences, but all the while, another, perhaps more important, decision
was being made. The priests must choose a man to accompany this goat
out to the nether regions of the desert; lest, the terribly symbolic return of
the sinful goat, by happenstance, occur.
A man was chosen who was virtually blameless: a peasant
farmer who had little to his name but a life of provision for his family,
piety towards his God, and peace with his neighbor. This man made the
journey with the goat far out into the wasteland of the desert, searching,
or waiting, for the fateful Azazel to appear and devour the sins. The man
knew little of what this encounter would entail, but the tales of Azazel he
had been told as a child were more than enough to awaken a deep fear
inside of him.
Azazel appeared with no fanfare and with no hesitation. He came
to the man, devoured the goat, and spoke kindly with the man. Azazel
was pleased with the mans haste to return his homeland and his great
poise and resilience towards Azazel, even if the man was trembling on
the inside. As the two began to part ways, the man to his home and
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family, and Azazel, perhaps, to his home and family, the man could not
help but ask a question of the beast.
Who are you? But sin itself personified?
I am Azazel. I am not, but in the minds of you and your people.
I do not get rid of sin, but I feast on goats. It is only your people that have
made me out to destroy and obliterate what happens amongst you. I was
not created, nor do I exist, but for your people. Though, I do not really
exist for you either, the pure in heart? You can see me, but I matter not,
and you can see the goat being devoured though you know it is not I who
do it.
Then who do I see, and who devours the goat?
Alas, everyone devours the goat. And here in the desert you see
everyone.
And the man went away trembling; for he knew that he and his people
were doomed.
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T h e T a l k a t i v e M o n k
There once was a monk who took a vow of silence as he entered his
monastery. Eventually, he left his monastery in order to pursue a life
amongst all of Gods children. So, he moved to the city, and he sat in the
city center. He talked at everyone who came by, spreading his message to
any ears that would listen. He talked, and he talked, and he talked.
One day, the old abbot of the monastery came to visit him in the
city. The abbot wanted to check up on his progress and ensure that he
was following the vow he had taken in becoming a monk. So the abbot
observed the monk from far away, and he saw him speaking with
everyone as they walked by. The abbot became infuriated and moved to
confront the monk in his disobedience to the vow. But the young monk
saw the abbot across the city center, and, as the abbot drew near, he
began to plead his defense.
He said, Dearest abbot, I know what you must think of my
conversation, but let me tell you that since I came to the city I have seen
what true silence is. Even though my words are loud and my
conversation incessant, I have not communicated with any individual
since I arrived here. In fact, I have not moved from this street corner. I
have not prayed. I have not worked. I have not listened to anyone. I
merely fill the void with words so that my communication will be
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drowned out. You see, old abbot, my words are but a mist that merely
reflects the silence they mask, but my actions, my actions can never be
silenced.
And the abbot went away, pleased with the diligence of his
young monk.
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T h e R i c h e s i n T h e R o c k
There was a man who came across a giant rock one day. He thought to
himself, Surely this giant rock cannot be completely rock the whole way
through. So, he began to chip away the outside layers. After mining
through a sizeable portion of the rocks outer layers, he began to wonder
what riches he would find inside. His mind wandered to images of a giant
gold nugget or of rare gems, but he knew that he must keep mining to
reach his riches.
After a long time of taking layer after layer off this rock, he
finally reached a central core. The rock had been rock all the way
through. But, relentlessly, he continued on his quest to find riches. He
began to take off the final layer of the rock, hoping to find something of
worth. However, when he took the final layer off of the rock he realized
there was nothing. Not only was there no more rock to speak of, but he
had found nothing. He went away saddened at the lack of gold or gems or
riches.
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T h e L o v e B e f o r e L o v e
A scientist and an artist fell in love. They both spent every waking
moment taking care of each other and devoting themselves to the others
needs. They showed understanding and compassion to the other, and they
rarely displayed petty anger or juvenile jealousy. Then, on one
completely ordinary day, the artist professed his love for the scientist.
The scientist was shocked at this profession of love. Although he
knew that he loved the artist back, he could not bring himself to say those
words. His mind raced of the implications of making the love official. He
wondered about what society would say, about what his parents would
think, about how long the artist would love him back. He said to the
artist, But what will they think? How could we live in such a hostile
world? If only we could become invisible to the rest of the world
With those words, the scientist returned to his thoughts, hoping to
discover a solution.
The artist sat for a while, looking at the blank expression on his
lovers face. He sat for a day, then a week, then a month. But after a year,
the artist left. He went back to his studio, and he started painting again.
He painted at a furious pace without leaving his studio once. After years
of painting, he came back the place where he had left the scientist hoping
to see that he had moved on with his life too. However, the scientist was
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still there, thinking, weighing, and deciding. Then the artist was hit with a
pain in his heart. He realized that he was no better than the scientist.
While the scientist stood still to figure out his love, the artist worked
furiously to figure out his love, or his lack of love. And after all of it, the
artist went away. He went out into the world, to love again.
The scientist was paralyzed in thought, but he saw the artist
leave. He knew what it would mean to love the artist, and he was
prepared to declare his love to his lover. But when he went to the artists
loft, he was not there. When he went to the artists studio, he was not
there. When he went to the artists favorite caf, he was not there. It was
as if the scientists love had made the artist invisible. Truly, the artist had
become invisible.
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U n t o C a e s a r W h a t i s C a e s a r sJesus was teaching in the Temple, and he said to those gathered there,
You have heard it said, Give unto Caesar what is Caesars and unto
God what is Gods, but you have given unto Caesar what is Gods and
unto God what is Caesars. But now, I say to you, Give unto Caesar
what is Gods and unto God give what is Gods.
The people listening to him were perplexed, and they asked him,
But Lord, what do we do with what is Caesars? Do we give it to God or
Caesar? Jesus stood up with this question and began to leave the
Temple. He said as he was leaving though, Do not worry about what
money or power to give to Caesar or to God, neither have need of either.
Rather, give to those who need it: What is Caesars give unto everyone.
And with that, everyone stood and left the temple.
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J o h n W a y n e
A new land was discovered far away with vast untapped resources and
the promise of new life. All of the great powers of the old world sent
colonists to it, but these colonists were unable to survive. That is until
one day, when a man in black appeared and began to show them how to
farm properly in the new climate. This man grew in popularity and was
loved by all of the colonists. However, with their newfound skill in
farming and surviving, the colonists began to rebel against their colonial
masters.
Those still loyal to the Old World sent messages back describing
how the man in black had come from the forests into the colonies and
shown them how to farm and survive. So, the Old World powers assumed
this man was the cause of the rebellion. They sent an Old World hero to
kill this revolutionary and restore order to the colonies. After many
months at sea, the hero arrived on the shores of the colonies. He was
welcomed with open arms by the colonists, as they thought he was there
to maintain law and order among the growing population. But he asked to
see the man in black. The colonists brought him to the man in blacks
house and took him inside.
The man in black was working on new projects and designs for
increasing the farming production of the colonies to deal with the
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growing population, when he looked up to see this Old World hero
standing in his doorway. He knew nothing of the folklore of the Old
World, so he assumed the hero was a new colonist. The two discussed the
new plans for farming and for the expansion of trade, and they enjoyed
dinner together. But after that, the hero took the man in black out to the
public meeting hall where everyone gathered for evening prayers. Then,
in front of all the colonists, the hero shot the man in black in the back of
the head. Calmly, he told all of the colonists that law and order had been
reestablished.
The room was deathly quiet, until one small voice cried out from
the back, But how are we going to eat?
Within months, all of the colonists died. And the hero returned
home.
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T h e P o t a n d T h e K e t t l eTwo monks that were known for their greatness in generosity and
humility were brought together at an ecumenical council of all the
Church leaders across the world. The conference was designed to codify
the Churchs wisdom into a single body of literature that could be
disseminated to the masses. However, there was another aspect of the
conference that was slightly more lighthearted. The church leaders were
also gathering to pay homage to these two wise and hospitable men that
so embodied the Christian tradition and ethical mission.
The night of the gathering the two monks met each other outside
of the meeting hall, and were discussing matters that were only
appropriate for monks. They were talking about their ascetic disciplines
and their habits of hospitality and generosity. Each of the two monks was
astounded at the extent to which the other completely embodied Christs
love. Each of them loved the rest of creation fiercely, and they did
everything they could to ease the unnecessary suffering of humanity.
Finally, one monk said to the other, Im sure that, due to your strict
codes of hospitality and your love for others and God, you will be
awarded with the highest honor tonight. Im glad that I was able to spend
this time with you, and I know that it will benefit me greatly as I go out
into the world again.
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The other monk was enraged at this accusation, How dare you
call me hospitable and generous! What gives you the right to say what I
am? In fact, I would say that you are just as hospitable as I am. What
makes you so special that you feel justified to describe me exactlyas you
are?
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The Qu ick Gaze Down Suppose that what you fear
could be trapped,
and held in Paris.
Then you would have
the courage to go
everywhere in the world.
All the directions of the compassopen to you,
except the degrees east or west
of true north
that lead to Paris.
Still, you wouldn't dare
put your toessmack dab on the city limit line.
You're not really willing
to stand on a mountainside
miles away,
and watch the Paris lights
come up at night.
Just to be on the safe side,
you decide to stay completely
out of France.But then danger
seems too close
even to those boundaries,
and you feel
the timid part of you
covering the whole globe again.
You need the kind of friend
who learns yoursecret and says,
"See Paris first.
-M. Truman Cooper!
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T h e M o n s t e r 1In a civilization far away, there was a fable told to all children when they
turned five years old. It was a fable of a terrifying monster, one that is all-
powerful and completely merciless. He rips apart his enemies with his
might, and he feasts on all of their flesh with his fellow monsters. There
were varied reactions to this fable. Some children were unable to sleep at
night; others were too scared to go out in the jungle anymore. But one
child decided to do something about the monster. He decided he would
train and become as strong as he possibly could. So, he trained for years
and years; he became the pride of the civilization.
Then he declared he was going out to hunt the monster. He
wanted to find it, and he wanted to kill it so that the people could live
their lives in free from the monsters terror. The members of the
civilization gave him ample supplies for the months long journey, and he
made his way into the jungle. Along the way, he came upon many beasts,
and he killed all of them. However, none of them were powerful enough
to have been the monster of his childhood. He fought with all the beasts
in the jungle until there were no more. He searched for years and years
for the mythic monster but there was no sign of it anywhere. As he spent
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more time in the jungle, he began to feel himself losing a bit of his
mental strength. He had trained his brain to remain calm and stay focused
on his mission, but his lust for combat was overriding his calm and
confident self.
He still moves about the jungle destroying trees and insects with
his axe. They say he kills for pure enjoyment and that no one could
possibly subdue him. Some say he can hear a person approaching from a
mile away. Warriors have ventured out to meet him in battle, but they
have never returned alive. Today, in that same civilization, the people
still tell the fable of the strong monster out in the jungle, only that
monster now has a name.
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T he F i de l i t y o f T he F ac t o r y
There were two factory workers who were walking to work one morning.
They were speaking of menial things: election returns, basketball results,
the college football rankings. This walk had been a ritual for almost
twenty years. But today, as they walked they saw something peculiar
about their factory. There was a giant banner hanging over the front
entryway. It read, in giant, carnival-like letters, Sorry, Weve Closed
The Factory. Go Home. Well Contact You Soon.
The two men hung their heads as they read this terrible news,
and walked solemnly back to their houses.
A couple of months pass, when one of the men hears about a
new plant opening in town. He goes to see what job opportunities are
available, and he finds that there are still many jobs to be filled. He fills
out an application and grabs an extra to take to his long-time colleague.
He comes to his fellow factory worker with the application to tell him the
great news, but the other man does not share in the excitement at all. His
friend tells him that he can finally get back on his feet, and start
providing for his family again. Fate has smiled once again on their blue-
collar lives, and he cannot miss this opportunity.
My wife left me when she found out I had lost my job. She took
the kids, and I havent seen or heard from them in weeks, the man
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replied. He continued, I have no need for getting back on my feet.
Theres plenty of beer in the fridge and money in my bank account now
that I dont have five mouths to feed.
The mans friend felt a great sorrow for this loss and told his
fellow worker, I cant imagine what youre going through. Then he
left, for his friend had asked to be left alone to die.
However, the man came back to try again to get his friend to come
back to work at the factory. He remembered his friends fathers stern
and hard-working nature. He asked his fellow worker, Dont you think
your Father would be proud to see you come back to work? Especially
now that you do not need the money? The man retorted, My Father
died a couple of days after we were laid off He was mowing the lawn,
and he dropped dead of a heart attack. I have no way to gain his approval
from beyond the grave. Plus, I wont need his approval when I am
beyond the grave. Now go, leave me alone to sit here in my grave. This
chair is where I shall rest forever.
His friend left, deeply distraught at the emotional state of his
fellow worker, but nevertheless determined to convince him to come
back to work with him. As he lay in bed that night, he thought of the past
they had shared. They had seen the birth of each others children, high
school graduations, baptisms, weddings, and funerals They had been
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through it all together. He could not imagine going to work without this
man.
So, the next day the man went back to his friend and asked him
for a third time if he would come back to work. He said, My friend,
weve been through it all together. Weve worked across from each other
for years, but we lived side by side for years too. If you wont come back
to work for money or approval, come back to work with me, your
friend.
The pleading of his friend struck a new chord in the bitter mans
heart. He thought in silence for a long while. Finally, he said to his
friend, For you, and only for you, will I come back to work.
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T h e W a y a n d T h e T r u t h 2
Jesus said to his disciples, Do not let your hearts be troubled. You
believe in God; believe also in me. My Fathers house has many rooms;
if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare
a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back
and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know
the way to the place where I am going.
Thomas said to him, Lord, we dont know where you are going,
so how can we know the way?
Jesus answered, I am the way and the truth and the life. No one
comes to the Dharma except through me.
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Y ou l l S t ay U n t i l T he J ob s D oneThere were two men who walked into a convenience store wearing ski
masks and carrying handguns. It was one of those stores at the end of
town no one visits after 10:30. So, the men walked in and pointed their
guns at the cashier. There wasnt another human being in sight, and there
was no way the police could arrive in less than a half hour. One of the
men grew anxious about what he was doing, and he decided that robbing
this convenience store was wholly immoral. He decided he couldnt be a
part of whatever was going on here. So, he tried to leave. But his friend
told him that he couldnt leave. It would be a great disgrace to your
father to leave a task unfinished, he said.
The man struggled with the options for a moment in his brain.
He decided that it was more immoral to leave a task unfinished than it
was to rob this poor man with no intentions of hurting him. So, they
finished the job, got the money, and fled the scene. About an hour later as
they were driving back to their apartment, the cops showed up and the
duo was arrested. They both sat in their respective cells awaiting the
questioning and conviction that was surely to come. During the interview
of the man who tried to leave, he was asked how he felt about his crime
and what they did to the poor kid who works for nothing more than
minimum wage.
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He replied, Oh, I feel awful, just awful, about it. I never would
have hurt him. In fact, I thought the whole act was immoral, but my
friend was there and I couldnt leave the task unfinished, you know?
The officer was stunned at this answer, and he asked, Why couldnt you
have left it undone? It was wrong to do what you did, and even more so
to finish it after you knew it was wrong. But the now practically
convicted man replied, Ah, but you never knew my father! He was
adamant that I should never leave unfinished any task I set myself to. If I
had left, I would have disgraced my Fathers legacy.
The officer began to understand as he had always been fearful of
his own fathers great strength and power over him, and he asked the
man, I see. Was your Father a criminal like you? I had a Father who led
our family with strict morals and an iron resolve. But I see your father
wasnt one to hold the same sterling morals or to preserve and promote
honor and pride. He must have been one who looks out for his own even
if theyre criminal scum, like you.
The man replied, No sir, he was in the military.
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T h e M a n F r o m K a l a m a z o o
There once was a man from Kalamazoo. This man studied hard in school,
performed well on all of his tests, and finally made it into a prestigious
private school in New York City. When arrived at University, full of
expectations of wonder at exploring life outside of Michigan, he was
shocked at the resemblance of people in New York City to those in
Michigan. Nevertheless, he continued to study hard, perform well in
school, and got accepted to an even more prestigious school in England.
When he arrived at Oxford, he thought that he certainly had
escaped from the dilapidated gene pool in America and would finally
find the interesting, savage people he had always dreamed of meeting. As
he walked around campus chatting with the other intellectuals, fighting
anger as he realized they are no different from him, he hypothesized that
his problem must stem from the type of people with whom he was
associating.
So, he took to the streets to meet with the beggars, the
prostitutes, the clergymen, the middle class, the imbeciles, the foreign,
and the rich. As he interacted with these people, his hopes of finding
diversity were crushed. (Except for his brief interaction with the rich, that
left him thinking, I know there is something different about them, I just
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cannot quite put my finger on it.) So, the man set out to travel to the
most remote regions of the world.
He set sail to the island known as Madagascar where he
encountered people that come from blended Arabic, Asian, Indonesian,
French, and Creole backgrounds. As he read about Majunga during his
time on the ship, his anticipation and excitement grew. He said to
himself, Finally, a people that I can meet who arent like me. Someone
who I can learn from, and someone whom I can teach. When, he landed
in the Port of Majunga, and he stepped out in to the city air, he
exclaimed, This air is the same air I breathed when I was born in
Kalamazoo, when I lived with the intellectuals in New York City, when I
stayed with the homeless in Oxford. And now I breathe it in among my
brethren in Majunga. Where is there diversity? I declare in all the hearts
of mankind there is none. No, not a single one of us is different.
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T h e N e x t D a y o f A t o n e m e n t
After the bull had been slaughtered, lots were cast to see which
of the goats presented would bear the sins of the people away from the
land of Israel. This process went on without any hiccups or significant
occurrences, but all the while, another, perhaps more important, decision
was being made. The priests must choose a man to accompany this goat
out to the nether regions of the desert; lest, the terribly symbolic return of
the sinful goat, by happenstance, occur.
This year, on account of the mishaps and false teachings spread
by the righteous peasant, the priests chose a man who was of low
standing, sinful, and corrupt to accompany the goat into the desert. This
man was a tax collector who charged far over the required taxes in order
to live lavishly and in pleasure. The man ventured with the goat into the
desert having no fear of Azazel or the dangers of the desert, for he took a
company of Roman soldiers with him. So, the caravan set out awaiting
the arrival of Azazel, when one of them in their midst declared the search
was useless and Azazel was nothing more than a fairytale. Slowly, the
men all left and the tax collector was left alone. Azazel appeared once
again quietly and confidently, and the tax collector barely noticed his
approach until the beast was upon him. The goat was devoured at once,
and Azazel spoke to the man plainly.
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I am Azazel. I am the one who destroys sin and is the terror of
the desert.
The tax collector was still unafraid and turned to leave muttering,
You are nothing but a hallucination. The desert heat has withered me,
and I am close to fainting and dying. I must return home immediately.
Why should you return? You have no home, no family, no
friends. You are but a prestigious man of the worst type: A man with
excess of power, but a shortage of friends. No, because of your
corruption and sin, you will be devoured along with the goat.
The tax collector was shocked, But you have eaten my sins in
the goat along with all the sins of my people. I must leave to pursue my
life back home. Perhaps we will meet again at a much later date.
You fear me not, but I have all power over you and your people.
God himself has given you over to me, and I will do with you as I
please. And Azazel devoured the man.
When the tax collector never returned, many people muttered
amongst themselves, He has gone mad, or He continued on to Rome,
or He must be hiding amongst us. But they never came to know what
had become of the man who bore their sins to the desert.
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T he L as t M an
There were billions of men and women who walked the Earth. Thousands
of civilizations and languages could be observed upon its surface. But
one day, it all changed, and there was only one man left. This man
walked the Earth, living on the natural fruits and searching for anyone
else that was left. He wandered and wandered. Finally, one day, a traveler
came upon him on the road. The man looked up and saw the face of pure
evil; he saw the face of the devil.
The Devil told him, Youre the only one who is left. Why do
you keep searching? There is no one left to complete you.
The man continued walking. And the Devil came back with more
insults. They left you behind. They knew you were not worthy of going
where they are. You are the only one left, because you were the worst
one of them all.
Yet the man continued walking. The Devil continued with his
tirade: I should just kill you now to be over with it all. I could put this
world out of its misery.
The Devil began following the man to add to his misery.
Eventually, the man stopped at an abandoned house and picked up a doll.
It was not charred and seemed alien against its background of splintered
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black wood and grey dust. He held the doll up to show the devil, and,
then, he gave it to the Devil. The Devil stood there completely
confounded. The man walked on, never to be bothered by the Devil
again.
The Devil returned to his home with the doll in hand. He was
still in awe of what the man had done to him. He tried to understand what
the man had been saying with the doll, but he could come up with no
hidden message. Instead, he began to think that the man was mad. The
walking and wandering had made him insane, and the doll was just the
culmination of this madness. But the Devil could not forget the look in
the mans eyes.
Then the Devil heard a knock on his door. It was a small girl.
She had to come to ask for her doll back.
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T h e T w o W o m e n
Two women sat across from each other, reading from an ancient book.
The two women poured their souls into the book and knew the book
inside and out. In fact, they had completely memorized the book. This
was one of their weekly meetings to discuss their new readings,
interpretations, and the questions that arose in their minds. This week
though, they heard a knock on their door, and the first woman went to
open it. When she opened the door, she was floored by the overwhelming
presence that rushed into the room. It was Jesus of Nazareth in the flesh.
He told them, Dear Sisters, I have come to ask if I could join in
your reading of the Bible; I have seen true community amongst you, and
the word says, Wherever two or more are gathered in my name, I will be
there also. The women were shocked that Jesus would appear at their
study and wish to study the Bible with them, but they both welcomed him
in with open arms.
Jesus sat down, and began to ask the women which part of the
Scriptures they were reading. But suddenly, the first woman jumped up
from her seat and ran from the house, never to be seen again. Jesus asked
the second woman if he had done something wrong, said something
offensive, but the second woman was still in shock of his presence and
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could not even muster a single word. She sat there at the feet of Jesus for
eternity, not ever being able to say a single word.
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T he F ac t o r y S ky l i ne
Two boys sat looking beyond their towns landfill at the plumes of smoke
and smog rising from the newly developed industrial sector of town. Due
to the high amount of pollution, the annual rainfall in that area had
dropped dramatically, and the whole region was severely affected by the
drought. One of the boys had gone off to University after high school and
had studied meteorology. His brother had stayed behind to become a
gardener. Both boys had wonderful careers, and were home for the
holidays to see their parents. As they sat looking up at the plumes of
smoke, the meteorologist brother noticed them forming into shapes that
resembled clouds. He recalled his training though and was not fooled into
apparent hope for rainfall. His brother though grew excited and
exclaimed, There it is brother! Rain is on the horizon!
His brother retorted, Those are just smoke plumes, nothing but
smog and pollution. Theyre not rain at all. Both brothers sat there silent
for a few moments, when the meteorologist brother looked up at the sky
again. He had felt a drop of water touch his face, but he was sure that it
was not rain. But, he looked up, and he saw that there wererain clouds up
there. He could see, through a break in the smog, that large storm clouds
were covering the sky, but none of the water could get through. It was all
being absorbed and carried off by the dense smog. The meteorologist
brother said, I know how to fix the drought. He ran off to tell the
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factories to stop producing for just a moment, so that the rains would fall.
But, when he came back dismayed by their continued production, his
brother told him, I was just playing with you. I was dropping water on
your face while you were sleeping. I thought, if anyone would, you
would know that the smog had completely killed the rain.
And with that the boys went home. And the meteorologist wept.
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T h e V o i c e
There were two women who lived together. They loved each other very
much and had spent their whole lives faithful to one another. But over the
years, they had slowly grown apart. The smarter woman had gotten a
wonderful job at a prestigious university, and the more domestic woman
had stayed home to tend to their adopted children. One night, the two of
them got into a fight. The one who stayed home finally voiced her
opinions about all of the late nights and long hours and piles and piles of
books that littered her house. The fight gradually escalated until both
women were nearing hysteria. Finally, the smarter one asked, Ive
provided everything you could have possibly needed your entire life!
What more could you possibly want from me? Ive paid all the bills,
bought all the food, paid for all the doctors appointments! What else
could I possibly do?
With that the smarter one had thought she had won the argument.
But the domestic woman muttered, Thats the whole point isnt it! I
didnt want your money! I wanted you! I wanted you to be there to listen.
I wanted you to be there to hear my voice! Instead, I just got a few hugs
and kisses along the way and a whole bunch of threats veiled in
suggestion.
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To the children, this seemed very sad. It seemed like their
parents were fighting so much that they would never be friends again.
But it wasnt sad. When the morning came, both women rolled over and
looked each other in the eye and said, I hear you. Why dont we go
make some breakfast?
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S t eps o f t he W ol f
In the wild, there is one predator feared not for its size or strength but for
its stealth and precision. The wolf knows what it is and knows that it
cannot outrun and overpower all of its prey, but the wolf also knows that
none of its prey can outthink or outmaneuver the wolf. In the beginning
of the reign of the wolves as the most fearsome of hunters, there was one
Wolf that was the greatest of all the wolves in the land. This perfected its
hunting technique with every venture into the wild; it made additions and
refinements and augmentations with every kill. During its most prized
hunt, it caught a wild elk off guard that was able to feed the whole pack
for months.
As the Wolf thought about how he had captured this elk, for he
wanted to codify the hunting technique for future hunts, he remembered
that he had accidentally given away his position to the elk early in the
stalk. The Wolf figured that the elk must have noticed this misstep and
maintained a position of where the wolf should have been. But the Wolf
was able to sneak around and catch the wild elk off guard. The Wolf told
his fellow wolves of this technique, so that they would all be able to feast
for the rest of their lives.
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Many of the wolves followed in this great Wolfs footsteps, and
many of the wolves had great success. They all deliberately gave away
their positions in order to achieve a great element of surprise.
However, one day the great Elk came to the wolves camp and
asked to speak with the great Wolf. The camp buzzed with anticipation at
what the great Elk and Wolf were talking about. Perhaps the elk had
become too weak to continue being massacred by the wolves, and they
were willing to offer some sort of treaty that included a provision of meat
for the wolves. But as the great Elk came away from the meeting and left
the wolves, the great Wolf appeared disheartened, for during the meeting
the great Elk had asked if the great Wolf had seen the elder elk, which,
though a grand elk, was senile and ill and had a propensity for wandering
off into the territory of the wolves. The great Wolf remembered his
famous kill and remembered the way in which that elk had not struggled
nor has his flesh tasted fresh and virile. He realized the elder elk was the
victim of his most famous hunt and that his strategy for killing elk was a
cheap farce. From that moment on, he forbade any wolf to use his
technique. The wolves suffered a great deal from all this, and the pack
eventually came to the brink of starvation.
The great Wolf eventually died from this starvation, and the
wolves discussed plans for the future. Since the abolishment of the
hunting techniques, there had been no great hunters that had risen up in
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the pack. However, one of the wolves suggested that without going back
to the old ways of hunting there would be no way any of them would
survive. So, a decision was made to return to the old techniques, and the
wolves never starved again.
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S c h o o l F o r G e a r sThere once was a giant industrial machine. It consisted of smaller
machines, pulleys, and motors, but the most important part of the
machine was the gears. The gears whirred and churned to keep all of the
parts moving in unison, and without the gears the entire apparatus would
have come screeching to a halt. So, when the original gears began to age
and rust and lose the ability to keep the machine moving, they decided
they needed to teach a younger generation of gears to keep the system
moving. Keeping the machine running though would take a great deal of
training and expertise in the intricacies of the mechanics of the system.
See, the older gears had taken an entire lifetime to perfect the system, and
the new replacement gears would get no such luxury.
So, they began a school for gears. In this school, the gears were
taught to turn and churn and rotate in the exact manner needed to keep
the system running smoothly. They appointed teachers and leaders to
convey to the young gears how important it was to keep the machine
running.
The young gears loved learning about everything their
predecessors had done. They absorbed the knowledge fully and without
hesitation, and eventually the day came whenever the first installment of
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changing gears would take place. It was a tumultuous day filled with
excitement and nervousness. Every time a new gear would take the place
of an old one, the entire machine watched closely to see how it would
function. For the most part the switch ran without obstacles and without a
great deal of interruption in the daily function of the machine.
However, there was one small aspect of the young gears life that
could not be foreseen by the older gears. One day the younger gears
decided to abstain from turning, churning, and whirring. They decided
that no longer could they stand to be a part of this machine; so, they
stopped. It was a tragedy for the older gears to see. Their entire system
was crumbling before their eyes, but there it was, a cessation of
productivity, the ultimate evil in the world of the gears. Why would one
ever want to stop turning? and How dare they disrespect the tradition
of all traditions! were commonly heard during this time of great
confusion.
But softly the young gears could be heard talking amongst
themselves. And they were all only saying, Why?
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T h e W a y O n w a r dHere, then, is the first rule of acting: assume that the success of your
undertakings depends entirely on you, and in no way on God; but,
nonetheless, set to work as if God alone will do everything, and you
yourself do nothing.
- Hevenesi, Hungarian Jesuit, 1705.
When I, as a human being, experience myself as cut off from God, atthat very moment of the utmost abjection, I am absolutely close to God,
since I find myself in the position of the abandoned Christ.
- Slavoj Zizek, On Belief, 2001.
But father, what
--Yes, the What. Right. Get it. This is it.
- Dave Eggers, What is the What, 2006.
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P r i s on F o r G ea r s
Needless to say, the older gears were appalled at this act of defiance and
decided they must act to rectify the situation. So, a plan was made to
construct a place for all the gears that didnt whir, churn, and spin to
spend the rest of their days in solitude. This place struck fear into the
hearts of the younger gears, and it worked at restoring order in some of
the gears. But there were some who were not afraid of the place of
imprisonment. So, those gears continued to not spin.
Because of the defiant gears, the older gears instituted a new
system of getting the younger gears to spin. So, they started teaching the
younger gears that it was their duty to their elders to continue on their
traditions. They said, The only way of life imaginable is the way of life
we gears have lived for years. This scared some of the younger gears
into thinking that if they failed to whir, then they would fall into oblivion
and never be able to enjoy the comforts of their elder gears. But, there
were some gears that were not afraid. They did not believe the older
gears whenever they said there was no way of life outside of the machine.
So, the elder gears, in a final attempt to restore full production,
tried their most underhanded tactic yet. Instead of attacking the younger
gears defiance from the outside, they slowly infiltrated the circles of
trust of the gears and began disseminating the message that their really
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was no battle to be fought and no battle to be won, because not spinning
is just another form of the machines production. The older gears said,
Whether or not you spin, the machine lives on and the machine still
produces. You might as well live comfortably and only concede on a few
points of principle. The younger gears slowly began to agree with the
message the elder gears had snuck into their ideas, and one by one, they
went back to churning, whirring, and spinning.
Yet, there was one group of young gears that had heard the
message and did not believe it still. They realized that they, the young
gears, were the ones who controlled the machine and what it produced.
The realized that the comforts were something they could produce if they
wanted to, but they also realized that they could form their own machine
and work in their own way, creating their own things. They snuck their
way deep into the heart of the machine and hollowed out a space for
themselves to create and spin in freedom. They wanted to understand
why they spun and then choose if they wanted to spin or not. To this day,
those gears still live in the heart of the machine. And to this day, they are
still churning the same way they did, even before the great revolution of
gears.
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H e a v e n a n d E a r t h 3
A group of religious leaders were called to a summit to discuss the
possibility of a single religion showcasing its soteriological superiority
over the others. The great leaders of Islam, Christianity, Judaism,
Animism, Deism, Atheism, Buddhism, Hinduism, and all of the others
assembled to discuss this possibility. Each religious group argued for its
obvious superiority, and the debate began to become heated and
passionate. But before violence could break out, a courier rushed into the
great hall to deliver an urgent message. I have some Good News and
some Bad News, he said, trying to catch his breath. The Good News is
Jesus is coming back The Christians let out a cry of joy and
celebrated with their brethren as their claims had just been validated, but
the courier continued: The Bad News is hes going to Salt Lake City.
Embarrassed, the Christians lamented their arrogance and returned to
their seats as commotion broke out amongst the assembly. Many of those
assembled left to go try to reconcile with God. Slowly, a wise holy man,
who had not up to this point said a word, stood to his feet and said,
Finally now that all these trite discussions have been settled we can all
get to business with the weighty matters.
!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!H!C0'!I%A'!1-')'&/!(&!/0()!1*-*:,'!()!*//-(:9/'4!/%!=,*&!D%&')!$-%+!0()!:%%A!.$/-'
0)1,%23'45"'6"7"89':)#'$;'.
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T h e G a m e
There is an ancient game that has been played for generations and
generations. Certain strategies have evolved, fallen out of fashion, and
resurged with the turning of each age, but the basic rules remain the
same. A young boy was learning to play the game with his father and
mother when he realized that something was going terribly wrong. He
had learned all of the strategies and was exceptionally bright for a boy of
his age, yet he had never won a single game. He always lost to his Father
or Mother, and they always seemed to lose to someone else. The cycle
went on and on. The boy decided to trace the chain of wins and losses all
the way up to the top. He found that the wisest man in the world had
beaten almost everyone in the game. The young boy went to him to see if
he had ever lost.
When the young boy got to the wise mans house, he was greeted
with open arms. In traditional hospitality, the wise man offered the boy a
chance to play the game and have a bite to eat. The boy accepted, hoping
to learn from the strategies of the old man. However, the boy was
shocked within a few minutes of starting the game. The wise man was
awful at the game. The young boy had only made a few moves and was
already very far ahead. He was on the verge of winning when the wise
man said to him, You have learned the game now my child. The wisest
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are dumb. And the dumbest are wise. Now that you have won, you will
lose. You will always lose. You will always lose.
The young boy was confused at the words that came out of the
wise mans mouth. So he decided to play the wise man once more to try
to gain some insight into the nature of the game. This time the young boy
was once again shocked within minutes of starting the game, as he had
fallen far behind and was on the verge of losing. The wise man told him
the same thing once again. But the boy was still confused. The two kept
on playing long into the night. Sometimes the boy would strike a victory,
and other times the wise man would defeat the boy. But as the two of
them began to grow weary and sleepy from their hours of playing, the
young boy and wise man started to forget to keep count of who won and
who lost. They had played hundreds of games, but they had not a record
of who was winning or losing. As the two fell asleep, the scorecard fell
out of the young boys hand. As it fell to the floor of the wise mans
house, it appeared as though the card was completely blank.
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I n M y N a m e
Jesus was addressing the twelve disciples, In the final days you will say
to me: Lord, we prophesized in your name, we drove out demons in your
name, we healed the sick in your name. But I will reply to you, Away
from mefor I never knew you. When did you feed the hungry, clothe
the poor, or heal the sick? And then you will say to me, We did this for
you Lord and in your name for all of those around you. We fed the
hungry, clothed the poor, and healed the sick in the name of the Christ.
Still though, Jesus sent the twelve disciples away for they had
failed to realize what he meant by feeding, clothing, and healing.
Jesus turned to the beggar beside him and said, They never
realized that it is not about doing for the sick and poor in my name. To
enter the kingdom of God, my son, one must give up my namein order to
work formyname.
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T h e S a m u r a i
A great Samurai teacher was instructing his pupils in the arts of war.
There were many exceptional pupils, but there was one that stood above
all the rest. In front of the entire group of young men, the teacher asked
this pupil, What is the purpose of your sword? The pupil responded
quickly, To draw it out. The teacher was impressed with this answer, a
mature answer from such a young man, and he asked another question of
the pupil: What does one do when the sword is drawn? The pupil was
slower to respond this time, but he finally managed to gather his thoughts
into words and exclaimed, Work to sheathe it once more. All were
amazed at the wit displayed by the young man, and his teacher
commended him.
After the days training was finished though, the pupil went to
his teacher to ask a question. What must be done in order to sheathe my
sword? Is not a sword only to be put back after it has struck? The
teacher contemplated his answer, and he asked the pupil to come back
tomorrow. For days and days after this the student continued to ask the
question, and his teacher deferred the answer. Eventually, the student was
old enough to leave the teachers care. During his final day of training,
the teacher asked him once more, What is the purpose of your sword?
And the student responded, To draw it out. Then the teacher asked,
What does one do when the sword is drawn? The student suddenly
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remembered the answer he had seen in the Samurai master; this time, the
student did not reply. The samurai left the student standing there until
nightfall, and finally the master returned and said, My student, you have
understood what one must do to sheathe the sword. You must only
sheathe your sword.
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T he B es t N i gh t o f O ur L i ves
Sometime, usually around the middle of May, there is a gathering of
individual students from high schools all around the nation. They gather
together with the sole purpose of dancing the night away, and looking as
fancy as possible while doing it. The girls get their hair cut and curled,
and all the boys buy color-coordinated tuxedos. Some students drink and
dance all night long, and others tend to keep to themselves and their
friends with conversation and jokes. For many students, this will be
termed the greatest night of their lives. For others, there will be an
existential crisis that results from not getting a date or being left by a
date. But, there will be one student who does none of these things.
He will tell his parents he does not wish to attend or partake. He
will tell them that he does not want to buy a tuxedo or ask someone to
this dance. He will tell them he would have much more fun doing
something else the entire night. He will convince his mother to be his
date for the night, and they will go to the Indian casino thirty minutes
outside of town. They will be sitting at the blackjack table when his
mother asks him if he regrets not going to prom. She will ask him if he
thinks he missed out on the pageantry and parties. She will ask him if he
did not want to go because he was afraid he could not get a date (To
which she will quickly add, in all motherly capacities, Youre such a
handsome boy and any girl would be lucky to get to date you.). And he
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will look at her and say that this has been the greatest night of his life. He
will say he did not care about the boutonnires and bouquets; he will say
that his friends will see him tomorrow and that he will find a girl
someday. He will tell her that he could not imagine a better night, despite
having lost his money. When his mother gets a perplexed look on her
face and asks him how that is possible, he will respond, Because it is
tonight, and we are alive.
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dogma and our sister was trying to avoid her reality. See, my child, I
have come to be all things to all people, but I have not come to bring
peace, but rather, a sword.
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T h e F i n a l D a y o f A t o n e m e n t
After the bull had been slaughtered, lots were cast to see which of the
goats presented would bear the sins of the people away from the land of
Israel. This process went on without any hiccups or significant
occurrences, but all the while, another, perhaps more important, decision
was being made. The priests must choose a man to accompany this goat
out to the nether regions of the desert; lest, the terribly symbolic return of
the sinful goat, by happenstance, occur.
Despite poor choices for a guide for the goat into the desert the
past two years, the priests still had high hopes for this years chosen man,
for he was the high priest himself. The priest was not worried about his
journey to the wilderness for he had spent much time in study of the
Torah and was a man of upstanding ethics and thoughts. He looked
forward to meeting this fabled creature and had hopes of gaining great
wisdom and strength from the meeting.
When he went with the goat into the desert, he walked along
reciting psalms of repentance and thanksgiving for the sins of his people
and the graciousness of Gods covenant with them. Azazel appeared next
to the old man and walked along with him as the old man quoted the
Torah under his breath. Slowly, the old man spoke as he heard the
creatures footsteps alongside him.
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Im pleased to see you again, old friend. Its been many years.
How does the time pass with you?
Ive been pleased by the years and my time in the desert. The
men you have sent to me have been most interesting as of late. The
peasant and the tax-collector both learned much from our visit.
Here is the goat, my friend. Take it and know that the covenant
remains intact. As long as you will have our sin, we will grant you respite
here in the desert.
Azazel took the goat and devoured it. Then, he turned to walk
away. But the priest needed to say one last thing.
When the tax-collector came to you, he was not afraid, but the
righteous farmer we sent to you was terrified of your presence. What do
you make of this?
I make no claims out here in the desert except that we see things
as they truly are. Every man has no time for deception and plenty of time
to look about. Even you, yourself, can see clearly out here.
The priest looked up from the ground to gaze upon the face of
the beast that devours sin and is granted refuge in the desert, and, behold,
it was none other than the face of God. And the priest walked away
trembling for he and his people were doomed.
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T he I n s a t i ab l e S adnes s
A young boy was born into a family who lived in the slums of LosAngeles. His family was loving and supportive, but it was sometimes
difficult to put food on the table. The boy did well in school, but he was
unable to go to college. He had to settle for a minimum wage job, and he
worked backbreaking labor for the rest of his life. But around the time he
was twenty years old, he met the most beautiful girl he could have
imagined. Shortly afterwards, he asked her to marry him, and she,
luckily, said, Yes. They had a happy family and many kids, but they
suffered from the same lacks that the boy has lived through as a child.
Despite this, he worked hard, and he loved his life.
The boy grew up, and he grew old. He grew feeble and sick. One
day, he died. Now, the boy had not been overtly religious, but he had
lived a good life and he showed love as often as possible. So when, to his
surprise, he entered into heaven, he was overjoyed. But soon, his joy
turned to fear when he looked down to earth and saw that his lovely wife
and children were on the other side of an infinite chasm. He began to cry,
not just for his separation from his loved ones but also for the hard life he
knew they would have to live without him.
Eventually, God heard the crying of this boy and God called for
him to be brought into the throne room of God. The boy was put on
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Gods lap, and God began to wipe all the tears away, just as the boys
mother used to do. However, despite all the promises and demonstrations
of good, beauty, and light, the boys sadness could not be overcome. God
tried everything. God orchestrated a dance in the boys honor, displayed
all the secrets of the Universe to the boy, and allowed him to reside in the
immediate presence of God. Yet nothing could calm the boys sadness.
God was beginning to become very anxious about this boys situation,
and God felt that there was nothing left to do. But then, God came up
with an ingenious idea. God pulled the boy aside and whispered in his
ear, My child, I know I cannot stop your tears nor is being in my
presence enough, but I know of one who I think could help you. Here,
take this key and leave the pearly gates this night. No one will know you
have gone, and in the morning you can come back to heaven if you wish,
but if not, heaven will be waiting for you whenever you want to come
home.
Suddenly, the boy was no longer sad. He did as God had said,
and from that day on no one in Heaven heard from him again. But when
God thought back on the incident, his face grew bright for the insatiable
sadness had been overcome, and the boy was truly happy.
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T h e D e a t h o f a B o d y g u a r d
Traveling along a long and lonely road, there was a caravan of traders.
This road was treacherous, filled with dangers, and constantly patrolled
by bandits. So, the traders brought along with them three bodyguards to
keep watch over them while they slept. These bodyguards were of the
finest quality. They were strong men who had been trained in all arts of
war and were loyal and zealous.
But in the night, the bodyguards heard the sounds of many men
gathering around their camp. As they peered out into the darkness, they
could only make out dark figures, but they knew there were more men in
the dark than they could repel. Fearing for their lives, the bodyguards ran
and abandoned the camp and the traders. Upon hearing the commotion of
the guards departing, the bandits pursued them, thinking they held the
treasures they so badly desired.
In the morning, the traders awoke and noticed the missing
bodyguards. Outraged, they began to curse the names of the men and
vowed to embarrass and expose them upon their return home. The traders
finished their journey with ease, and began to return home. They traveled
day and night for fear of the dangers that surrounded them, but they never
once heard or saw the bandits. Just miles from the security of their home
city, the traders came across a dead body strewn carelessly to the side of
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the road, stabbed and marked with typical bandit brutality. Upon
searching the body, they realized that this man was their bodyguard. And
they exclaimed, Oh! What have we done? How could we have thought
that this loyal guard abandoned us to our deaths? Is it not apparent that he
had abandoned us for our life?
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T h e H e r e t i c a n d t h e S a i n t
There were two men who lived together in a hermitage far away from the
cities of the world. Both men were revered and known by almost all
Christians, but for different reasons. The Saint was known for his ascetic
l