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The Shield of Legalism

Posted by rjagilbert on December 11, 2013 at 8:15 PM Comments comments (1)

Part 5 of the "wrong" armor.

 

The Demon Armor I address in this work is based on the Biblical “Armor of God” as listed in Ephesians 6. Most Christians are familiar with this passage and the spiritual trends represented. Few Christians, in reality, adhere to these spiritual traits. One or more of them have been replaced by the cursed armor-pieces I discuss here.

 

The Shield of Legalism

 

The way Paul puts it, a warrior hides behind his shield to avoid the “flaming arrows of the evil one.” The Shield of Legalism is hid behind as well; not as an act of bravery in battle, but as a cowardly justification to do evil.

 

The inscription at the top of this cursed shield dates back to the Garden of Eden, when a certain serpent asked “Did God really say that?” Through the years, it has been re-forged into various assertions.

“Is it not written?”

“Define (adultery, murder, theft, etc.)”

“What is the Hebrew meaning of this word?”

 

Legalism is the fundamental adherence to the wording of scripture without any consideration to the overall meaning of those words. It places importance not on understanding what God said, but on what man wants God to have said.

 

Upon the Shield of Legalism is the same crest that is found on the Helmet of Self Righteousness. “God is on my side,” this crest asserts. When used legalistically, it states: “Thou shalt not…unless God is on your side.” Historically, this has been one of the most abused assertions by men of God. David used this assertion when he moved the tabernacle to his political headquarters in Jerusalem (Moses had commanded that the tabernacle be situated on a hilltop in what later became Samaria). Under the title “A Man after God’s own heart” (translated: “God is on my side”), David set the Biblical standard for breaking the Ten Commandments that is still in use today within the Christian Church.

 

Christians equipped with the Shield of Legalism today are easy to spot in that they often quote one verse of scripture out of context from the rest. Sometimes, an entire book will be written based on one out-of-context scripture. Often these contortions reinforce the false protection offered by the Breastplate of Breakable Promises. Sometimes they are used to conceal the Boots of Ambition. Most often, they enhance the selfish justification within the Helmet of Self-Righteousness.

 

The law, in favor of evil men, is a terrible thing. The law, in favor of good men, is entirely unnecessary. Good men do what they know God wants them to whether or not the law commands it.

 

Scripture—any scripture, be it Koran, Torah, Greek myth, the teachings of Buddha or Confucius, or the writings of Paul—must be understood as the message the writer wanted to convey; not as the message the reader wants to hear. When written word becomes a tool for evil, then it can no longer be the Word of God.

 

The Boots of Ambition

Posted by rjagilbert on December 6, 2013 at 8:10 PM Comments comments (0)

Part 4 of the "wrong armor.

 

The Demon Armor I address in this work is based on the Biblical “Armor of God” as listed in Ephesians 6. Most Christians are familiar with this passage and the spiritual trends represented. Few Christians, in reality, adhere to these spiritual traits. One or more of them have been replaced by the cursed armor-pieces I discuss here.

 

Boots are meant to protect the wearer’s feet from injury as well as to enhance one’s footing. Paul asks the Ephesians to fit their feet with the readiness that comes with the Gospel of Peace. But the Boots of Ambition do not bring peace. They do not allow the wearer “readiness” either.

 

The Boots of Ambition do not allow their wearer’s feet to remain planted. Ambition drives the wearer hither and yon in search of a happiness they will never find. All the while, they leave a path of misery and a negative impression of Christianity that has become one of the primary arguments for Atheism.

 

Boots come in pairs, as do these cursed shoes. On one foot is worn the name of Evangelism. Over the last 2000 years, in Christ’s name, man has crossed the globe and brought the message of salvation to billions of people living in spiritual darkness. In accordance with Christ’s request, the Evangelical movement has helped to heal the sick, feed the hungry, and clothe the poor.

 

However…

 

On the other foot is worn the boot of Exploitation. In Christ’s name, nearly every indigenous people introduced to the Gospel was then introduced to the sword, the shackle, and various other forms of oppression and exploitation.

 

Together, the Boots of Ambition bring this message: “Jesus loves you, but you’re working for me.” Time after time, under the guise of service to the Church—and often using scriptural contortions as justification, various arbitrary divisions of humanity have been exploited, discriminated against, and even enslaved. Even when they were not conquered or enslaved, many of the people brought to Christ by early “missionaries” were inducted into the Western world as the under-paid, over-worked laborers that the Christian economy has so thrived upon. Many more were swindled of their land or displaced under “Christian” doctrines such as Manifest Destiny.

 

There is a story, written in 2nd Kings 5, that shows how poorly God views a man’s ambition to prosper—beyond what God gives to sustain—from his service to the Lord. Gehazi was a servant of the prophet Elisha. Elisha healed a wealthy man and asked for no reward. Gehazi thought that such a good deed deserved comparable compensation. After receiving payment from the wealthy man, Gehazi was met by Elisha and cursed for his greed. Perhaps the punishment was so severe because God knew how many more would face Gehazi’s temptation in the thousands of years to come.

 

Let it not be said that the Boots of Ambition only carry us to alien soil to trod on the foreigner and the savage. Many who wear these cursed boots focus their tyranny upon their own families. Dysfunctional Patriarch (or Matriarch) Syndrome is one such example. Using the Biblical passage: “Children obey your parents”, these dysfunctional parents assert totalitarian authority over their offspring—authority that holds its ground deep into the child’s adulthood. Where the goal for most parents is to produce a healthy, competent adult capable of doing the same with their own children, the domestic tyrant only demands an obedient automaton. This exploitative experience with Christianity often results in the child’s eventual rebellious separation not only from their family but from the Church as well.

The Helmet of Self Righteousness

Posted by rjagilbert on December 3, 2013 at 8:00 PM Comments comments (0)

Part 3 of the "wrong" armor series.

 

The Demon Armor I address in this work is based on the Biblical “Armor of God” as listed in Ephesians 6. Most Christians are familiar with this passage and the spiritual trends represented. Few Christians, in reality, adhere to these spiritual traits. One or more of them have been replaced by the cursed armor-pieces I discuss here.

 

The Helmet of Self-Righteousness

 

Here’s where we start to see some real differences between Christians who wear Paul’s Armor of God and those who don the Demon Armor. At least, those who do not wear the Helmet of Self-Righteousness see the differences. Those who do wear this cursed helmet see nothing much of anything.

 

The Helmet of Self-Righteousness is a bucket, inverted over the wearer’s head down to the shoulders, without any openings through which to see. Some who wear it may claim that there is indeed something to see within; the well-polished interior allows its wearer to see themselves—which is the only thing they want to see. This polished surface reflects to the viewer the message of perfection; there is no fault revealed in this mirror.

 

The purpose of a helmet is to protect its wearer’s most vital region, the head, while still allowing functional visibility of the world beyond. This cursed helmet tells its wearer that there is nothing worth seeing beyond themselves. A self-oriented nature is the primary manifestation of this cursed implement.

 

At first, self-righteousness manifests as an oblivious attitude toward the surrounding world and people. The wearer feels that, if it’s not about them, it’s not important enough to pay attention to. Then, when battle comes, the wearer cannot identify his target. In blind desperation, he strikes out at anything and everything within range.

 

The full helmet and visor, which concealed the faces of men in medieval battle, necessitated the advent of a crest upon each warrior’s shield and helmet. The purpose of this crest was to identify each combatant to his allies. Such a crest is found upon the Helmet of Self-Righteousness (also on the Shield of Legalism, discussed later). This crest is the assertion that “God is on my side”, seemingly identifying the Self-Righteous as one whose cause is authorized and anointed by God on high. History is full of individuals who performed or commanded crimes against humanity under this assertion that “God was on their side.”

 

The world is a frustrating place to those who’d like to ignore it; they cannot avoid its frequent and random imposition into their lives. Self Righteousness not only ignores, but denies the existence of inconvenient truths. When truth rears its head despite all efforts to avoid it, the self-righteous must invent myths of blame to explain what they dare not acknowledge.

 

God is true. In fact, most religions assert that God is real. He is not a manifestation of our creativity as are such statues of Baal and Zeus that were once worshipped as false gods. Nor is God a concept, such as Law or Money, that only exists where two or more agree that it is. God is real, and He is also omnipresent. If that is indeed the case, then all that is real is God. The Self-Righteous deny their own experience—their own relationship with reality—if it does not agree with the myths and scriptures that they have accepted into their little bucket-helm of a world. The result is a denial of reality.

 

If denial of God is the sin that separates us from Him, then denial of Reality is the very same deadliest of sins.

 

The Breastplate of Breakable Promises

Posted by rjagilbert on December 1, 2013 at 7:55 PM Comments comments (0)

Part 2 of the "wrong" armor series.

 

The Demon Armor I address in this work is based on the Biblical “Armor of God” as listed in Ephesians 6. Most Christians are familiar with this passage and the spiritual trends represented. Few Christians, in reality, adhere to these spiritual traits. One or more of them have been replaced by the cursed armor-pieces I discuss here.

 

The Breastplate of Breakable Promises

 

Remember the beginning of Star Wars, Episode IV “A New Hope”? Within the first few minutes, we are given our first, intimidating impression of the Imperial Storm Trooper. Clad from head to foot in white plate-armor, these evil warriors looked invincible. They burst through a smoke-filled doorway, weapons blasting, and lay siege to the Rebel soldiers. Then a well-aimed shot from a rebel’s pistol penetrates that imposing white armor and the first Storm Trooper falls.

 

“Okay,” we observe, “the Rebels must be equipped with powerful, top-of-the-line blaster pistols in order to penetrate that heavy armor.” But by the end of Episode VI, we have seen Storm Troopers dispatched by rocks and sticks wielded by teddy bears.

 

What good is armor that can’t defend its wearer from sticks and stones? It’s useless!

 

After the advent of gunpowder and muskets to medieval warfare, no breastplate would be worn into battle until it was “proofed” by withstanding a musket ball. Most warriors would not think of putting their trust—let alone their bodies—in armor that has proven itself useless. We would not wear into battle a glass breastplate expected to shatter on the first blow. We would not encumber ourselves with a hot, heavy vest that does nothing to keep the sharp arrows, blades, and bullets of adversity from our vital organs. Yet as Christians, we put our faith in promises—disguised as doctrines and scriptural contortions—that are just as worthless.

 

Many of the breakable promises found within the Bible are actually found in the 67th book: Implications. Bible readers will find that it does not come after Revelations, but in between the lines of many passages throughout the Bible. A few years ago, a book was written about one verse of the Bible that told how God had blessed one individual. The selling point of this book was not what the author wrote—that God wanted to bless our ministry—but what was implied—that God wanted to materially bless us.

 

Preachers have tickled congregational ears for centuries. Human nature has allowed it to continue virtually un-checked because people want to believe what they want to be true—no matter how ridiculous the lie. Modern culture has dubbed this message of health, wealth, sunshine and blessings the “prosperity gospel”. C.S.Lewis lamented that his generation treated God as a “heavenly grandfather”; a deity full of love and blessings, willing to spoil us by giving us anything we demand of him, and ever looking the other way when we misbehave. Much of the popularity of Christianity in this modern era may be largely credited to these false promises of happiness, material blessings, and inconsequential misbehavior.

 

What happens when we discover that these promises are not real? What happens when a soldier discovers that his armor won’t stop a spear? Often, it’s too late. The damage is done. With the breastplate compromised, the vitals punctured, the blow is usually fatal—not to the body, but to the faith.

 

A Christian is promised so many things. When some of the promises are proven false, why believe the rest? As the saying goes, “…Fool me twice, shame on me.” When the promises of eternal life and a reward for righteousness are blended in with the promises of a big house, fast money, and instant gratification, all lose credibility.

 

There is the famous tale of the boy who cried wolf. It can be equally told as the boy who cried blessings. All day long, the boy deceived the villagers with promises of fortune, glory, and pleasure; promises he failed to keep. At the end of the day, if the boy came to the villagers with a promise of eternity, why would they believe him?

The Belt of Bigger Purpose

Posted by rjagilbert on December 1, 2013 at 7:50 PM Comments comments (0)

The Demon Armor I address in this work is based on the Biblical “Armor of God” as listed in Ephesians 6. Most Christians are familiar with this passage and the spiritual trends represented. Few Christians, in reality, adhere to these spiritual traits. One or more of them have been replaced by the cursed armor-pieces I discuss here...

 

The Belt of Bigger Purpose

 

The belt is situated just under the breastplate, and is designed to protect the wearer’s lower vital organs and upper legs. In the English translation of Paul’s words to the Ephesians the passage expresses that the wearer’s “loins” are “girdled”, envisioning the well-protected regions beneath the bulky girdles of sixteenth-century armor.

 

But the belt of bigger purpose does not protect much of anything.

 

Here is a belt with but one notch. There is one size that it fits, and that is big. Bigger than you. In fact, everyone who tries on this belt will find that it is implicitly designed for somebody “bigger”. Not bigger in belly, but in purpose.

 

The Bible was written for paupers and kings, slaves and wealthy merchants, refugees and warriors. But modern Christianity does not sell well when addressed to paupers, slaves, and fugitives. We like to think of ourselves among the kings and successful people of this world. We want to believe that God has planned our lives to fit that “bigger” notch.

 

There is no notch on the Belt of Bigger Purpose for humble servants.

 

This principle of “bigger” has been put to use, with great success, by the industry of higher education. A careful search of most college textbooks will find that their implied messages of success are far less realistic than what college students can and should expect. When an example is given of an individual’s pay rate or lifestyle, it is usually far more inflated above par than what the student will encounter in real life. The intention of the author (and the professors who buy the books) is to lead their students to believe that their tuition and time spent in education is a wise investment towards a future of financial success and a higher standard of living.

 

This is another breakable promise: the gospel of upward mobility. But the damage done here does not usually kill us. It maims us to the point of ineffectiveness in the purpose God does have for our lives. Most of us may make some amount of difference through our loins—that is, through our children or our contribution to posterity. Many of us have the opportunity to make a difference through the menial “leg-work” of the Christian church—the hours of thankless service and unrecognized acts of kindness that used to be what it meant to be a Christian.

 

When we wear this cursed belt, we ignore our loins and our legs, hoping that God has something “bigger” planned for us to do in service to Him. We invest our time, money, and minds in chasing after that “bigger” notch. Often, when attempting to fit into this belt, we wind up missing out on the entire battle. Even when engaged in the battle, this cursed belt guarantees our defeat.

 

The Belt of Bigger Purpose wears so loosely around the waist that the enemy is able to grip it and pull the wearer in any direction. As a result, it is impossible for the wearer to stand his or her ground and remain engaged in the battle. The promise of “bigger opportunity” is far more effective against the church than intimidation or despair. To desert one’s position in search of more glorious combat is the same as to desert in retreat. To abandon the battle is to give the enemy victory.

Why I Wrote "Men of Renown"

Posted by rjagilbert on April 1, 2013 at 11:55 PM Comments comments (0)

When I was a kid, my dad brought home an old book titled “Lost Mines and Treasures of the Pacific Northwest”. This well researched book holds an extensive collection of legends about lost riches in Washington, Oregon, and Idaho. Dad ignored some of the more famous legends, such as the discovery of Crater Lake by an expedition searching for a lost cabin mine, the shipwrecked galleon buried beneath the sands of Nehalem Spit, and the famous Blue Bucket mine of Eastern Oregon. Instead he focused on all the strange legends that took place in our particular neck of the woods. On Saturdays, he’d load us kids into the car, pack some picnic food, a map, and his favorite travelling music, and we’d drive off into the wilderness to see these exotic locations described in the book.

 

Dad was also a leader in our church’s youth program for boys. Dad’s nine-seat VW van was no stranger to church outings and adventures, and it became only natural for our friends to join us on these Saturday outings as well. The kids might not have cared much about the old legends of treasure, but we sure had some fun at the swimming holes, rafting the rivers, hiking to the tops of mountains, and camping in the woods.

 

Dad’s ambition wasn’t always absent from these adventures. One year, Dad obtained a mining claim in one of the canyons deep in gold country, and though I don’t think we ever got a single scoop of panning out of the dirt, I still remember the adventures we had (and the colorful hermits who had staked their claims up and down the canyons). Once we were confronted by one of these hermits with a shotgun who decided we had parked our van too close to his claim (That adventure was in winter, and I don’t remember any kids from church being along for the danger). There were several times when we found old, abandoned mine shafts and went inside—never too deep, of course, but Dad wanted to see what was inside. I know, several times, I felt like our lives were in danger, but looking back, I am the man I am today because I have faced danger and Dad did not encourage me to run.

 

Sometimes I wonder if Dad was faking his lust for gold only to get us boys interested in the adventure. Sometimes I wonder if his real goal was to raise his boys into young men—men who were not afraid of a little hiking, of a dark cave, of a frigid swimming-hole with a natural waterslide, or of some class 4 river rapids. Last year I made contact with one of those old friends who had accompanied my Dad on some of our adventures. He still remembered some of the jokes we made up from the back, bench-seat of the old van. When that friend reconnected with another of the boys a few months ago, he mentioned my name. Instantly my Dad was brought up, and the two of them reminisced about our adventures together.

 

Dad is older now, and he gets around a little slower, but he still enjoys going on adventures with his son and his grandchildren. Of course, I try to avoid the dangerous stuff, but sometimes I wonder if that is wrong. Sometimes we bring other kids along, and oftentimes Dad is not with us. He has his own ambitions again that get in the way, and I understand that. He’s trying to start his own business, and he’s still involved in politics and lobbying for his social issues, and he has friends and relationships around the world that he needs to maintain. He still wants to change the world, though; I think a lot of men have that drive. Sometimes he feels discouraged in his efforts. Sometimes he suffers a setback and wonders if he is wasting his time. Sometimes he measures his success and realizes how small it really is in this big world. I just wish he knew how big an impact he has made in the lives of a bunch of boys who followed him into the wilderness on those Saturdays so many years ago. What he passed on to those boys now lives on in the next generation of men, and stands to pass on to the boys of the future for generations to come. That right there is the biggest difference a man can make in this world.

 

The story of Men of Renown is a reflection of Dad’s ambition. Like most men, Saph wants to feel significant. In a world full of celebrities whose lives are documented with songs, statues, and honorable titles, a man can feel awfully insignificant with his own, humble endeavors. Yet, this story is not about the songs and statues of Atlantis—none of which have survived the test of time. This story is about the man who made a real difference in that age—the man whose name is still spoken today. That man was not proud or ambitious. His heart was focused on the future—on preserving life and passing down his legacy for generations to come. There’s a powerful story there. And I hope that this story inspires its readers to follow in that man’s footsteps, as I have been inspired to follow my Dad in his.

 

He Who Fears the Vampyre Hunter

Posted by rjagilbert on February 20, 2013 at 9:25 PM Comments comments (0)

He who fears the Vampyre Hunter

Sees naught in the mirror's pane.

He who opposes the cross and the clove

Hungers for blood in the living vein.

Many petition in favor of night

Though few remain at dawn.

Those who join them in banning the light...

Will miss it when it is gone.

The Slave and his Master

Posted by rjagilbert on January 13, 2013 at 12:40 AM Comments comments (4)

The man was an Anglo, with the fairest of golden hair and the bluest of eyes. To Rome, he was only a barbarian, captured and taken far from his homeland to be sold as a lowly slave within the ancient Roman Empire.

 

There came to the marketplace that day a wealthy nobleman of Rome, who saw the pitiful wretch upon the auction block and felt the spirit of goodness stir within his heart. Right then and there he purchased the prisoner, though the price was quite high. Even as the bill of sale was being signed, the auctioneer spoke cruelly into the poor man’s ear, “You are a slave, and all of Rome knows it. There is no other life for you but to do as your master tells you.”

 

Hearing the merchant’s sneering words, the master turned to his purchase and spoke gently. “Climb into my wagon.” When the slave obeyed, the master clambered up beside him and drove them both home.

 

The first thing the noble Roman did upon arriving at his estate was to call for a great platter of food. Seating the newly purchased slave at his table in front of the meal, the master told him, “Eat, and grow strong.” The Anglo sighed with despair at his plight, but followed his new master’s command.

 

Then the master led the man to the bath house. “I want you to be clean,” he said kindly to the slave. “See my son here? I want you to look as handsome as he.” The slave followed his master’s orders, and soon looked as civilized as the rest of the household.

 

Seeing progress made, the master took his new slave into the library. He brought in his most learned of servants and instructed the slave, “I want you to learn. Listen to my friend, so that you may know as much of his teachings as you can.” Still hanging his head, the slave did as his master said.

 

As time passed, the slave grew strong, healthy, handsome, and educated. His master instructed him in all manners of administrating the vast estate around them. But the slave remained sad, with his head downcast in all that he did.

 

“What is it that saddens you, my friend?” the master asked.

 

“I am a slave,” the man said with despair. “There is no life for me but to do as my master tells me.”

 

Hearing the auctioneer’s words that for so long had caused the poor man’s sorrow, the master spoke. “Go,” he ordered. “Walk in the sun. Be happy and free. Find love and marry. I have taught you how to live well, and all I ask is that you keep to those teachings. Do not return to the life that brought you to me: the life of the slave.” As an afterthought, he added, “If any question the freedom by which you live, you must tell them that you are following your master’s orders, for they will not understand the freedom I have given you.”

 

Confused—yet emancipated—the Anglo set out to explore the world beyond his former master’s estate. But as soon as he ventured beyond the nobleman’s protection, the world set itself upon him with their harsh and cruel laws. The people of Rome saw only the man’s golden hair and bright, blue eyes, and they knew him only as a slave.

 

“You are only a slave!” They told him. “You cannot be free.”

 

“I am only following my master’s orders,” he insisted. Knowing who his master was, they at first let him go on his way. But soon more Romans found him, and again they tried to take him captive. “I am only following my master’s orders,” the freeman pleaded. But they did not know his master, nor his master’s wishes. They seized the man and carried him back to the marketplace to be sold again into slavery.

 

As the poor prisoner was set again upon the auction block, who should appear but his master? “Do you know me?” the nobleman asked the auctioneer. The answer was no. “Do you know this?” the master suddenly produced the old bill of sale with which he had first bought the captive so many years ago.

 

“I do,” the auctioneer bowed low. “It is the law of property, and it deeds this man to you. Take him away.”

 

With that, the master led the slave again from the marketplace. When they at last returned to the estate, the Anglo was again cleaned, dressed, and fed. Then the master spoke again to him. “I want you to be free as much as you do,” he said. “But the world does not know my freedom. I think of you as my child, but the world only knows you as my slave. My laws are not the world’s laws, and the world’s understanding is not my own.”

 

Then the master took the bill of sale out again, and set it in a prominent place upon his mantle for all to see. “When the world looks upon this, it sees proof that you are my slave. But when you look upon it, I want you to see that you are free. For as long as you belong to me, you are truly free. Someday I pray that the world will see you as I see you, but for now they will only know your freedom by the price I paid for you.”

 

A Sentimental Christmas Song

Posted by rjagilbert on December 21, 2012 at 12:00 AM Comments comments (0)

(Sung to the (over-used) tune of Canon in D.)

 

I remember the magic

Interspersed with the tragic

When I wore my heart on my sleeve.

In the days when I believed.

Now I’m left with an empty feeling

From a wound that has long been healing.

Once again it’s

Torn end to end by a

Sentimental Christmas song.

 

 

Take me back to when days were good.

I would go if I only could re-

Turn to my mother,

Bring another,

Memory I can’t get back to.

See the children in blanket sleepers

Christmas Eve as they close their peepers.

Warm in bed it runs through my head a

Sentimental Christmas song.

 

Take me away to where sleigh bells jingle

Snow in the air making my heart tingle.

Sing we merry, in a very

Sentimental Christmas song.

Take me away to when life was better

Cozy and warm like a Christmas sweater.

Safe and happy, in a sappy

Sentimental Christmas song.

 

Lying bare in a world gone cold.

Feeling hollow, alone and old.

What have I become, what have I done?

Running from the meaning.

Doubt and sorrow are all I see now

Not the packages beneath my tree now.

Feeling numb

Singing a humbug

Sentimental Christmas song.

 

Take me away to where sleigh bells jingle

Snow in the air making my heart tingle.

Sing we merry, in a very

Sentimental Christmas song.

Sing me a song full of love and caring

Teaching the lesson of hope and sharing

Unrealistic, socialistic,

Sentimental Christmas song.

 

Like the tree after Christmas day

All the splendor is stripped away.

Oh my world was, so fantastic

Then it all went Ecclesiastic.

At the end of my joyful living

Did I gain from my senseless giving?

All that’s left behind in my mind is a

Sentimental Christmas song.

 

Take me away to where sleigh bells jingle

Snow in the air making my heart tingle.

Sing we merry, in a very

Sentimental Christmas song.

Sing, bring the joy, keep the presents selling

Never the story of Christmas telling.

All we need is, to believe in a

Sentimental Christmas song.

The Tale of Monkey and Tiger

Posted by rjagilbert on December 4, 2012 at 12:25 AM Comments comments (0)

On their way to a great festival at the far side of the jungle, Monkey and Tiger found their path blocked by the low-hanging branches of a great tree. Monkey stooped low and quickly scurried beneath the obstruction, but Tiger would not. Tiger was king of the jungle, and he did not stoop. So out came his claws and he went to work. He clawed and he pushed and he broke the low branch in half so that he could continue unhindered along the path.

 

Soon Monkey and Tiger came to a huge boulder lying directly in their way. Monkey quickly stepped off the trail and clambered around the obstruction, but Tiger would not. Tiger was king of the jungle, and nothing would make him change his course. So he went to work. He bunched his muscles and strained his back and pushed as hard as he could. At last, the great boulder was rolled out of the way and the two were able to continue on their way.

 

After a while, the travelers came to the bottom of a great cliff. The trail ended abruptly at the bottom, and they could see that it continued again from the top high above. Monkey quickly scrambled on his hands and knees up the rocky cliffside, but Tiger would not follow. Tiger was king of the jungle, and he did not climb. He growled fiercely at the cliff, dug his claws deep into the dirt, and set to work pulling the trail down to meet him on the ground. But despite all his efforts, Tiger could not move the cliff out of his way. He heaved and he tugged and he clawed. He grunted and strained, but the cliff remained above him, and the trail did not move.

 

“Let’s go, Tiger,” called Monkey from the top of the cliff. “The festival begins at sunset. We will be late if we don’t hurry.”

 

Tiger called back, “Then I must stop the sun from setting!”

 

Monkey shook his head, “That is foolishness, Tiger. Just climb up here and we will be on our way.”

 

“I will not,” Tiger roared. “You must run ahead and tell the festival to wait for me.”

 

With that, Monkey ran ahead to the festival. Try as he might, he could not convince the others to wait for Tiger to finish moving the cliff. The festival began at sunset, and Tiger missed out.

 

The moral of this story? Sometimes the easiest solution is to change yourself.


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