FIELDS OF GOLD - A PARABLE
And he spoke a parable unto them saying:
There once was a young boy who was beloved by his family. They loved him, but they thought he was a little weak and wouldn’t thrive or survive unless they took care of him. They loved the boy so much they built him a little house with windows that faced a meadow under the open sky. He could see the sky, but he was not allowed to go outside. His family swept the house often. They cooked his meals and made sure he did all the things little boys normally do, except for one thing. He just could not leave the house. Anyone passing by could look in the window and see the boy inside. If they looked closely, they would even see that he was sad. He himself knew something was making him sad, but he did not know what to do.
Then one day, the clock chimed the hour. The boy jumped up, opened the door and ran outside the house. He could hear the cries of his family as he ran, but he could not stop. He went out into the meadow and slowed down in wonder, then came to a stop. The sunlight felt warm on his skin, and a gentle breeze whispered against his ear. As he began to breathe deeply of the fresh air, he turned his face up to the sky. As he looked up, a golden wafer floated slowly down toward him, gleaming in the sunlight. As it softly fluttered toward him, he could tell that it was bread. Golden bread. It was weightless and weighty at the same time.
The boy had no idea what this bread would taste like, but he knew without a question that it had to be good for eating. He braced his feet and stood eagerly, with his mouth open, as the wafer of golden bread landed on his tongue. It was sweet, yet salty, and made all his taste buds come alive. The boy ate and as he swallowed, he felt strength flooding through his limbs. He ran back into the house to tell his family of this incredible food, but the best of his words couldn’t explain to them how this bread tasted, and how it made him feel.
As he further digested the golden bread, the boy’s body became alert and his mind sprang into action. He dreamed dreams and He spoke with authority. He saw many things with great clarity, even some of the future. The golden bread touched every cell of his body, and went through his bloodstream so that he became golden in appearance, and even on the inside he radiated a glow of gold. It was as if God had invaded his insides.
But the process of digestion was the same as for all food. As his body absorbed the nutrients and took on a golden hue, waste was manufactured, and his body was purified as he shed the toxic materials and dead cells. This waste took on a golden hue also, but it contained none of the goodness the boy had tasted. He eliminated it, and the dung was golden.
The boy’s family saw the golden dung and marveled. They said among themselves, “If the bread that he ate was golden, and even his countenance has become golden, then the golden dung must be good! Let us keep this for ourselves!
Now, the boy saw differently, heard differently, spoke differently. He started to hear music on the inside, each melody sweeter than the last one. Some of the melodies were haunting in their repetition; others took his breath away because of their warrior-like intensity. God was in the music. And in a quiet voice behind the music, God spoke with him, provoked him, challenged his longings and probed his heart. The boy spoke to his family and to others about what God told him, but many of them could not understand. It was as if he spoke a different language, some new dialect that they could not understand.
God loved the boy. He grew him, groomed him, chastened him and used him. The boy would invite his family to go with him outside the house and under the open sky so they could taste the golden bread as it fell from heaven, but they would not. They heard that it smelled and tasted sweet, but how would they ever know? They weren’t going to leave the safety of the house. They were resigned to the fact that he would keep eating the bread, but they decided to be content with the golden dung that he left behind. Besides, someone had to sweep the house. Meanwhile, the boy ate and grew. Eventually, he left the house to live in the meadow. He met others like himself there.
As time passed, the family members stopped listening to the boy, because they could not understand him. Sometimes the things he said made them angry. They complained because he no longer spoke their language. As their understanding decreased, they became even more angry and confused. Where was the boy they knew and had kept safely inside the house they built for him? He was becoming a man and a stranger in his ways. They did not have him anymore. But they had the golden dung.
The people in his family didn’t know anything about the golden bread, but they could understand the golden dung. They had seen it from the beginning. They knew what was in it, and they knew that it came about because a good change had happened to the boy. That was enough for them – why should they think there would be more for them than the dung? After all, some people weren’t made for that lifestyle – eating bread. So the family took of the golden dung and smeared it upon their bodies. They admired the faint golden glow on each other’s faces after they had daubed themselves, and they did not notice the smell.
With the boy gone from the house, his family began to want a sense of stability. So they studied the golden dung, and divined it to make rules for living which they could follow. The family made many rules, because rules gave them the ordinary and predictable lifestyles they longed for. There were rules about what to wear (no tattoos, spiked hair, baggy jeans or dreadlocks). There were rules against socializing with people who spoke, like the boy, in that funny language. And there were definitely rules about outsiders, for they could never truly belong to the family. There were rules about what to eat, what to drink, what to like and what not to like. Rules about how loud to speak or sing. There were rules about who could speak at what time and to whom. There were even rules about how God Himself should speak, and who was authorized to speak for Him.
After a while, life settled into a rut and nothing was ever done unless the people consulted the golden dung. They had no time to waste with the boy and others like him who spoke that new language. You see, their boy had changed and they didn’t understand him anymore. Others were changing. In fact the world seemed to be changing, and they worried, because they felt change could not be good for them! If things changed they might lose their places in the family. So they vowed to make sure that nothing inside the house ever changed. They could certainly control that.
The family members carved all the rules on a stone and hung it in a place of honor in the house. And so it was, year after year, they swept the house, cooked the meals and made sure everyone followed the rules. No-one was allowed into the house unless they agreed to live by the rules of the golden dung. And nothing ever changed. After a while, they forgot about the boy. And no one talked anymore about the golden bread.
But the boy lived in the meadow, and ate and ate of the golden bread, and he grew. He heard God and danced to the music.
Son of man, is it better to eat bread from heaven, or to store up the dung that remains?
And they were deeply offended and refused to believe in him. Then Jesus told them, “A prophet is honored everywhere except in his own hometown and among his own family.” And so he did only a few miracles there because of their unbelief.
Matthew 13: 57-58.
Deanna
July 13, 2008