The Way to Save Man: A Modern Parable

by Leah S. Carpenter

There once was a man who felt called to be a sort of savior for man and he set about his task with hearty good will, despite disparaging words and looks from all living that saw him.

His work was in the cemeteries among the dead. As he proceeded with his work, his reputation was sullied, to say the least; he was considered a lunatic by the kindest. It was difficult work, resulting in bleeding and blistered hands, a weary back and aching arms, but he bore all cheerfully for the sake of saving some—or even all, for such was his goal. His work was so important, and there was so little time!

He dug up the caskets, lifted them out of the hole or pit they were in, and proceeded to open the casket. He dug quickly, calling any and all to help him if they would; sadly, no one chose to help him.

When he had opened the caskets, he spoke to the dead within, saying, “I have set you free from death; all you have to do is will to live. Do you wish to remain dead, or will you choose life?”

There was no answer: silence reigned now as it did before the casket was opened. He proceeded to plead with them.

“I have done all the work necessary to free you from death! Will you make my work void? I have sacrificed my reputation, my comforts, my all, to set you free. I have left the good life I had to work for your salvation. Won’t you please choose life?”

Still silence. He continued to plead for a time, but there were others to be rescued, so he had to move on. Yet the scene was repeated each time, with no variation. And never did any of those whom he sought so diligently, and worked so hard, to rescue ever live again.

Doesn’t it seem strange that with so much of the work already done, the dead did not live? The man grieved so over their hardness of heart. Why would they not choose to live!? The work was already done for them. The gift of life had been given free; all they had to do was choose it. But they wouldn’t; none of them ever willed themselves to receive the gift of life he had given. Finally, he moved to a new field to work.

He decided to work with children and to adopt some children for his own. However, all the children available already had a father, and though the father may not be good, yet they didn’t seem to desire any better. Nevertheless, he sent word around that he wanted some children—mere babies to be born into his family, as it were, or such as would become as little children and be willing to be guided by him in all things, so that the marks of their first family would be erased. He wanted children that he could teach and train so that they would never be any but his children.

Oh, he wasn’t in the least cruel, and he would surely never forbid them to know who their first—that is, natural—father was, but he wanted to raise them so that they would never desire to return to their first father. But he wanted to give them the choice.

He, therefore, also made public a list of ten easy rules which they must all live by, so the children could make intelligent, informed decisions about whether they wanted to live with and for him. The rules were very simple, and only such as would make them into his nature, and add to their truest happiness. Besides that, he also listed what would be their inheritance,—and a goodly one it was—a portion of which they would receive as soon as they became his.

But, alas, he failed here, too, for the children who were old enough to think were content with who they were, and saw no need or reason to change. Besides, the family they were in allowed them to do anything and everything they wanted to do, and life was pleasurable. And what did this new father do but begin by giving a set of rules!?

No, none of them chose him as their father, for they couldn’t see, with their pleasure-blinded eyes, that the life he offered was better than the one they led. Even the inheritance meant nothing to them, for it was so goodly of an inheritance that they didn’t know its worth, nor how to desire it. And the babies were too little to understand and make a choice, so he failed there as well, for he wouldn’t take them against their will.

Some, indeed, he took, but as soon as they were old enough, their other siblings convinced them to join them in a life of pleasure, and they left his roof for their natural father’s house and ways, and so were never truly his at all.

Ah! what grief of heart was his. Was there none who would, under any circumstance, choose him and his life? But he never found any that would. His whole life had been wasted, his plans thwarted by man. He had lived, and sacrificed, in vain, for he would not make the choice for them, and none would choose him of their own will.

Finally, he looked around him to find any children that he would like to have as his own. Having found some, and offering to them anew what he had offered to all before, he found that they still rejected his adoption. By this time, however, he loved them so much that he could not let them go, so he began to work in ways to bring them to himself.

He first made them to see that their family—including themselves—was not only dead but doomed because of their family traits. The only escape was if they received his help and became part of his family. As they came to understand this, they were quickened enough to realize their need and to cry out for help from someone. He then worked by drawing them closer and closer to him so that they received an intense desire to be his, to have his traits and his new life, and they couldn’t help pleading with him to take them into his family.

When they asked, they were taken into his family immediately, given the family clothing and the family spirit, so that all old desires and loves were changed. Their new father ruled in their hearts by the new spirit, molding them into his image as if they were clay and he were the potter.

So they were given a choice, but they were freed from the bondage of their first father by the working of the new father in changing their will. Their hearts were forever humble and filled with love toward him who had rescued them from death, even as they rejected his offer of life.

Ah! here, at last, was the answer to saving man.  

(Special thanks to Sarah Kanz for editing :-))