Come, for all things are ready
Once upon a time there was a kingdom. This kingdom, Absalom, was nestled by itself in a wide valley between two majestic mountains. Pine covered mountains walled up both sides culminating in tall white capped peaks. The sun shown brilliantly between the peaks. White puffy clouds like cotton balls stuck against a brilliant azure canvas provided the ceiling by day. At night, it was replaced with an ebony velour bespeckled with stars that sparkled like diamonds, appearing so close, you thought you could touch them. The warmth of the valley radiated up to this black infinity causing a light dew to settle each night, watering the fields. And in the morning, the trees and flowers would glisten in the nascent sun.
A river flowed through the valley slowing for a time as it created a lake in the center of the valley. The lake was rippled with gentle breezes throughout the day. But in the morn and evening, it was like glass. The called it Crystal Lake. Rhododendrons and sycamores lined the lake. Fish would jump and snap mayflies, caddis, and stoneflies out of midair with acrobatic flare.
A path paved with gold circled the lake. They were lined with every imaginable shrub and flower. Red Columbine, Holly hock, and Rose of Sharon were infested with Hummingbirds making the rounds from blossom to blossom. Red winged blackbirds made their nests in the rushes. Raptors circled the lake looking for an easy meal.
The roads were likewise paved with gold, all leading to the center of the city. In the center was a castle. Actually, the castle was the city. This castle was not like any any that had ever been known. All the walls were built of solid gold and silver and adorned with precious stones of amethyst, rubies, tourmaline, emeralds, onyx and diamonds both within and without. The foundation was constructed of sapphires and turquoise. The stones were enormous. They were as if from a land of giants and their perfection and iridescence sparkled creating a kaleidoscope of color constantly changing with the position of the sun which was the source of light for the entire castle. The ceilings of crystal, which hovered hundreds of feet above the floor, gathered light from the sun during the day and the moon at night. Even with the setting of the sun, the light was not diminished but brightly lit the castle continuously. Its beauty was beyond words of description and its value was neither accounted for nor considered.
The castle had only one entrance. There was one gate at the entrance. It had never been closed. As one entered, there were shops of every kind on both sides. There were bakers, butchers, chefs, fishmongers, tailors, and craftsmen of every kind to share their wares; purveyors of every possible need for the inhabitants. Shop tables lined the entrance filled with all varieties of fruits, vegetables, fish and poultry. Workers brought their daily harvest in fresh from the field at the end of each day and laid their sheaves in their designated locations for all to share. Since the land yielded its bounty continually, only what was needed for that day was harvested.
The castle city was immense as observed from the outside and from the inside it seemingly had no end. The hallways spread out from the market area in several directions fading off as far as the eye could see. No one had actually been to the end. There were many rooms in the castle where the inhabitants resided. It was said that the castle had not been made with hands. No one knew its origin. Legend said it was from the beginning of time. The King lodged somewhere in the castle, but no one had ever seen his actual abode. It was said to be so deep inside the castle, it was impossible to make the journey.
Hot springs welled up inside where residents bathed. Large pools of cool water from natural springs soothed them in the warm days of summer labor.
A wide hallway stretched down the main corridor as far as the eye could see. Down the center a marble table flowed also disappearing into the distance. It was lined with thousands of dining chairs on both sides crafted from the finest cherry woods and upholstered with the most elaborate gold and scarlet embroideries. Solid gold candelabra center pieces were placed every four feet. Etched above the gold hallway in scarlet letters were the words, “Come, For All Things Are Ready.”
Each week the King would hold a fabulous feast to which all were invited. The table was laden with fruits of every variety, vegetables from the fields, meats, cheeses, and the finest wines fermented in kegs of forest oak. The tables were joyously set and everyone sat down to enjoy the fruits of their labors and give thanks. They feasted freely and without inhibition.
From the least to the greatest, they all dressed in purple and scarlet and gold. Upon their heads were golden crowns jeweled with rubies, diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. They were all royals, kings and queens, princes and princesses. The inhabitants were all direct descendants of the king, his children, and shared the royal bloodline. Though immortal, it was given no thought since death and dying were unknown. Most had long forgotten their beginning. Like the wind that blows from East to West, neither knowing where it comes from nor where it goes, so were they. They just were.
They had no discernment of inequality or position. The one who labored in the field had no consciousness of being lesser value than the skilled craftsman or the officiator of the castle and vice versa. Each simply had a different job. Like the several parts necessary to form one body, collectively and individually they acted as one person for the benefit of all. Each had equal ownership of the kingdom without regard to individual position or contribution. They gave liberally and took liberally with no fear or pride of ownership or concern that they or someone else had received an unfair due. At the end of the day, nothing was left over and no one suffered lack. They lived to serve one another.
Work was not laborious; not by the sweat of the brow as some would say. It was a labor of ease, of joy. Cool breezes stroked those tilling the fields as the ground broke with little effort and weeds almost cast themselves away. Stalks of corn, crops of broccoli, lettuce, cabbage, and potatoes burst from the ground as if to raise themselves. Each day, there was a harvest to meet the needs of that day. No more. No less. There was never too much or too little.
The kingdom operated without overseers or managers or taskmasters. No one bore authority over another for the king was the only authority and his authority was appropriated by each person in a way that served others. It radiated from their being as gentleness and kindness in the likeness of their father, the king, whose image they bore. It was an authority that served others, a power that produced freedom, not puffed up with pride or burdened with responsibility. They were not even conscious of this great power and freedom they had. Like the lion, totally unconscious of his power because he is power, they in like fashion had no need to ponder or affirm that which just was. The regality shone in their faces in a proud yet humble gait and demeanor.
The wealth of the kingdom, their inheritance, was immeasurable if there were a measure. But there was no accounting, for the true wealth of their kingdom was not considered in tons of gold and silver. Though they owned the cattle on a thousand hills, the inheritors of incomprehensible abundance, they had no regard for or gave any thought to personal wealth. It was normal that all were rich so they could bless others. Though eminent kings and queens, they had no regard of being over or above others. But they were all these things. Though they owned all both individually and corporately, all was available for the taking by any and all. Everything of the King’s belonged to them and they partook freely with impunity and without guilt or shame. It was a gift. They boldly gave and boldly received without compunction.
And such were the days of the residents of Absalom. They lived joyfully, serving one another in love, never considering a life outside of their world, never considering the possibility that things could be different. All was good. Never did they consider the existence of evil because they had never seen evil. They had no idea such a thing existed.
However, for one thing to exist, so its polar opposite must also exist. For one cannot exist without the other. For there to be light, there must be darkness. For there to be love, there must be hate. For there to be generosity, there must be greed. For there to be freedom, there must be bondage. For good to exist, so must evil. To be conscious of one, the other must also be known. No one can know a straight line unless they are conscious of a crooked line.
~*~
And so evil did exist. It existed in another kingdom. It was far away, way beyond the pure snow capped peaks of Absalom, on the other side of the mountain in the plains of the valley floor below. This was the kingdom of Birsha. Birsha was Absalom’s twin brother. In the beginning, before time, ions ago, the two separated. There was enmity between them so Absalom offered Birsha a choice. He made an offer to his brother to take either the mountain valley or the plains below. Whichever he chose, Absalom would take the other. Birsha pondered heavily on which would be the most to his benefit. He chose the plains, figuring it to be more fruitful and the climate to be more temperate. Absalom took the mountain valley and they went their separate ways. Birsha was very pleased and proudly surveyed his new kingdom from one of its shallow hills. He gloated at how he had outwitted and out negotiated his naive brother.
As Absalom left his brother and traversed the sole high mountain pass that linked the two kingdoms, he built a huge gate to separate his kingdom from that of Birsha. It was constructed of a single slab of oak, two feet thick from the only tree of its kind that grew only amongst the mountain peaks. It was the same as the gate he built for the castle entrance. It was impenetrable. And then he locked it . . . from inside.
Each began to multiply, filling their respective kingdoms with like descendants. Birsha replicated his greedy and lustful nature and Absalom his nature of love.
The plains might have been the better choice, but actually neither choice was better than the other. Absalom knew that. However, Birsha, greedy to suck out all the precious resources of the land to satisfy his insatiable lust for more and more, mined and tilled it to death until the plains became barren. It turned to desert. The heat became unbearable and great dust storms began to sweep across the kingdom.
Almost all of the gold and precious metals and stones were mined and stockpiled in his dark castle that he had built for himself. His subjects were never invited inside except to entertain him. The residents, in the likeness of their king, also hoarded what food they had and hid their possessions from one another. If one suffered lack, they were on their own.
As the years passed, there was less and less left to plunder from his land, yet Birsha wanted more. He knew of Absalom and his treasure. There was no way to penetrate the mountain pass, but he was still able to spy it out from high on the mountain peaks. His envy and lust for more, and particularly for that which was not his, grew steadily into an unquenchable burning fire. Jealousy over Absalom’s good fortune stirred his evil passion until it overflowed with immeasurable hatred and rage. Except that he did not consider it Absalom’s good fortune. He had been cheated. Absalom, he was sure, used trickery to manipulate him into taking the inferior plains below. He had been wronged. It was time to take that which was rightfully his.
Birsha had to wait his time. He knew he did not have the power to overtake Absalom directly nor the force necessary to breakdown the gate. But the possibility opened up when his spies reported back one day that they were unexpectedly able to open the gate. It was no longer locked.
Some curious Absalomites had removed the lock and opened the gate themselves, curious to see that which seemed to be forbidden on the other side. Seeing nothing but dark, cold, and ice, they quickly retreated but forgot to lock it back in their haste.
The welcoming news warmed Birsha. Now the only obstacle was the king himself. He had only to wait for an opportunity when the king was away, but that never seemed to occur.
But one day, the opportunity finally presented itself. Absalom said he needed to take a long trip to visit another kingdom. His friend needed his help. Leaving no one in charge, he bid adieu with no idea of the length of his absence. Birsha saw his chance.
Birsha and his minions crept through the one mountain pass that connected the valley below from the mountain kingdom above. It was bitter cold. The winds howled and painfully strafed their faces as they marched through the snow, wagons in tow for the plunder along with shackles and chains for their prey. For their evil plan was take the residents of Absalom as slaves to till their fields and mine their coal and gold and salt. Despite the travails, they marched on and eventually reached the gateway to the opposite side of the mountain. The gate opened easily, the skies immediately cleared and balmy breezed soothed their chapped cheeks. They smirked as the valley below opened up and revealed its treasure. Their minds started to calculate the previously unknown value of the riches before them.
They marched into the city through the fields meeting nothing but welcoming smiles from the residents. They were baffled by this reception and amazed at their innocence and naivety. Though prepared for battle, they realized this would be like taking candy from the proverbial baby.
Without wasting any time, without speaking, and without warning, they greedily began grabbing the men and women in the fields and herding them in groups, binding their hands and feet. Bewildered, they resisted but not forcefully, not understanding the evil intent of these strangers. For they had always lived free; free from fear, free from evil, free from hate, free to do as they willed always in deference to others. They received these invaders the same way. Everything they owned was available to those in need, for the benefit of others. But these people were different. The Absalomites who knew no pride of ownership that leads to envy and strife were about to be baptized into a new philosophy. What they considered the natural order of their universe was about to be turned upside down. They were a product of their father, the King, and the Kings’s desires they did. They had never known pain, suffering, or selfish ambition.
But that was about to change.
~*~
With no finesse, Birsha and his ragtag soldiers tore through the town reaching the castle in short order. They stood there in total awe of its beauty while fantasies of plunder and wealth danced in their heads. The one gate to the entrance of the castle that had never been closed was still open. No one really paid any mind to it or really knew why it was there. But the castle tenders did. When they saw what was happening from afar, they began to drop the heavy oak gate but it was too late. They were in.
They gathered the remaining residents and shackled them. Salivating, they immediately pulled the wagons in to start loading them with the spoils. They began hammering the walls with picks to extract the gold and precious stones. But their picks just bounced off the walls. The stones could not be plucked. They worked themselves into a sweaty frenzy as the residents of Absalom stood bound and amazed at the strange actions of this foreign force. “Why would they want to tear at the walls?” They thought.
For a few days they futilely hacked away at the massive castle walls to no avail. Their visions of plunder began to fade. They questioned their captives as to where they hid their own treasures. But the Absalomites did not understand. “What treasures?” They asked. In anger, the Birshamites beat them thinking they were being mocked. But that was also to no avail. There were no stockpiles of anything. No one had need to hoard anything. There never was lack of anything they needed. The Absalomites watched in total amazement and confusion as the spectacle continued to unfold. Feelings they never knew existed started to emerge.
Finally, cursing oaths to the heavens and Absalom, Birsha gave up the idea of plundering and settled for the residents as his spoils. With them shackled and chained together, he started them up the mountain pass with an empty wagon train following behind. If he could not plunder his brother, he would take something more precious: his children. And they would work his fields and his mines. He would still have his gold, precious metals and stones through the labor of these slaves. He would still feed his unquenchable appetite for possession and power and gorge on his hatred for his brother.
Dragged up the through the mountain pass, the Absalomites had their first taste of cold, hunger, and nakedness as they slowly slogged their way through the knee deep snow while the intruders rode in their unladen wagons pulled by horses and mules. The shackles cut their wrists, but even through the pain, they did not complain. Somehow they knew the king would take care of them. He had raised them knowing that no harm would come to them.
Finally they reached the kingdom of Birsha. Worn and torn, they lifted their heads which already were transitioning from stately erectness to a slight stoop. Their first sight was of the castle under a gray and gloomy sky. It was strangely familiar but in a gruesome way. Then they realized it was a gaudy duplicate of their home in Absalom. Constructed of the same materials but without beauty or color, overdone with gems hammered and inlaid on top of one another. Despite its quantity, it was hollow, empty, cold, dark, and apparently not complete. They were still building with no apparent purpose other than to satisfy and reflect its gluttonous owner, ever desiring more yet never being filled. It was an ugly, tasteless monument to an ugly, tasteless king.
The next impression was of the residents. As they were paraded through town, the contempt on their faces was not only obvious, it could be felt. Their eyes were hungry, vicious, and angry. They did not live in the dark castle but built their own homes outside the courtyard with leftover and stolen materials from the castle. Each home had high barbed wire tipped fences separating one from the other to protect their possessions and meager rations from neighboring thieves.
Their captors miserable look, however, was mixed with a smirk of malicious contentment as they surveyed their new possession: slaves to bear the brunt of the day’s heat and labor. For their labor was not a labor of love. It was a labor of sweat in bondage to their king who would punish liberally those who did not pull their weight. Now they had their own slaves to bear the heat of the day, to sweat and suck in the dust of the mines through their nostrils.
And so it began. They were herded into shoddily built barracks on the edge of town, their future not yet apparent. Guards with whips and clubs immediately were setup to control their movements. Food and water were withheld until they earned it, which was to begin immediately.
The first day had hardly dawned when they were forced into the fields and the mines and they worked until the light was gone. Overseers whipped them at any perceived slowdown or balk. Sweat and dirt covered their bodies. Food and water were meagerly supplied at the end of the day according to their output. They had to “earn” their rations each day. They measured by bushels of wheat, tons of coal, weight of diamonds. Stingy rations of food and water in accordance to their work. Those that harvested more corn, received more. Those that reaped less, received less. Even for the most productive, it was barely enough to keep up their strength for another day’s toil. For those that received little, those that received more would attempt to share. If they were caught, they were severely punished. It was a crime. “If they want more, they will have to work harder,” they admonished. Sharing became something requiring a second thought.
A reward and punishment system was quickly administered. For those who spent a bit too much time at their break, they were immediately docked a portion of the day’s rations. If they took too much water, they were docked and whipped. Those that exceeded their day’s quota might receive a small reward such as extra rations or a bath in the muddy pond by their barracks. But the rules were arbitrary and capricious, changing from day to day, sometime within the day.
Constant and monotonous verbal abuse accompanied every minute of every hour of their waking lives. “Dogs”, “worthless animals”, they were called, lucky that they were allowed to take up space in their kingdom. Breaking any rule or any perceived slowdown, real or perceived, was immediately met with stripes. Their conditioning for reward and punishment was well underway.
Though not a servile people, they were a servant priesthood and to fight back or resist was not in their nature. Somehow they knew there was a purpose and that their King, Absalom, would come for them. So they endured. But strange feelings began to become more pervasive and strengthened with time. Feelings of “not love”, of “not happy”, of uncertainty, and others for which they had no name began to overtake them.
Meanwhile, their masters hoarded all they could, stealing from one another without compunction. Their appetite for things was insatiable. They were never satisfied, constantly hungering for more and more. It didn’t matter what it was. They hoarded more food than they could consume so it spoiled and rotted in their homes. Goods of all kinds were sought whether needed or not. The hunger in their eyes burned and their bellies were never full. And the worst offender was the king. Whatever he fancied, he took without regard to anyone but himself.
Time passed, yet the people of Absalom had hope. They believed in their king. He would rescue them.
As they waited for their king, their captors relentlessly berated them and beat them and forced them to eke out their living in sweat and toil. The boldness and the confidence they once took for granted began to wane. Slowly but surely they began to forget their past estate and believe their captors. Perhaps they did not deserve the bounty, the gift that had been theirs in Absalom. Maybe this was their punishment for being so greedy and gluttonous, or so they were told.
Many years passed. And as each year came and went with no apparent sign of the king’s coming, they began more and more to accept their dismal fate, not giving up hope, but the memory of their land, their king, and their life in Absalom dimmed more and more as the years slipped by. They began to complain about their lot in life. The feelings which were new when they first arrived were now normal. They could not say they had any “love” for their captors.
Though they supported one another through each day, they questioned together the purpose of their lives and began to question their king. They worked harder each day to earn their wages and please their taskmasters. But there was no pleasing them. If quotas were exceeded, the bar was raised the next day and they paid dearly for not meeting the new goal.
Humped over from years of toil and sweat in the fields and crawling through coal mines, salt mines, and digging nuggets of gold, they slowly and surely conformed to their lot. The regal stature of years of past was no longer recognizable. They may have been owners of the cattle on a thousand hills and they may have been kings and queens, but that was a distant memory. The inheritance they once took for granted was now a subject of mockery. Some said it was a fairy tale. There was no such gift. No one deserved such a gift. Everything had to be eked out through hard work and sweat. That was the only way. One’s worth was directly related to how hard he worked. A few kept the remembrance alive and believed. Most had finally succumbed to the lies.
Two thousand years passed. There was still no sign of the king. They vaguely remembered him. “Was he alive?” They wondered. The hope was very dim, but still small embers in their hearts refused to die out completely. Though they questioned the existence of their prior life and the mythical inheritance, some kind of preposterous hope remained. They just didn’t know why.
One day, when hope was all but gone, a deafening clap thunder shook the ground like an earthquake and a flash of lightning lit up the dark kingdom of Birsha from East to West. It was so bright it revealed the intense darkness these people had been living in and swallowed it up at the same time revealing their redemption. The king had returned with the army of the his friend’s neighboring kingdom.
But, there was no battle, no fight. The king of Birsha and his minions were no where to be seen. It was like the light had swallowed them up along with the darkness. They had mysteriously dissipated from the planet, dissolved into non-existence. All that was left was the rubble of their once dismal abodes and stockpiles of what looked like wood, hay, and stubble.
The redeemed Absalomites pondered what had happened. Maybe the smallness of their beings rendered then invisible. Maybe they never existed and this was just a nightmare from which they were now waking. But they knew it was not a bad dream. It was reality. Whatever happened, they were gone and the Absalomites were free.
There was joy unspeakable at the sight of their king who embraced each one and told them how much he loved them. With heads hung low, there was something new inside of them that was not entirely sure. They instinctively cowered at each embrace. Though grateful to be rescued, they were not sure if they deserved it or what they had to do to repay him. The unconditional love and acceptance from ions ago had long since been beaten out of them. Remnants of remembrance still remained but they could not understand the delay in his coming or reconcile this loving king with the unloving state of the last two millenniums.
Nevertheless, with joy in their hearts, humpbacked and beaten down as they were, they followed their king back through the pass which miraculously closed up behind them. There was no snow this time. No cold. No treacherous or arduous trek. “Never again, my children,” he proclaimed, “will you fear or know evil.” They were confused at this statement and not so sure. “If that is what you call it,” they thought, “it most surely is something to be feared.
The return trip was very pleasant and quick. In fact, it seemed they were back almost before they left. The castle city was such a contrast to the bleak one of Birsha. They managed to lift their eyes from the road and take in its beauty but it was too overwhelming. What they once took for granted was now too large to grasp. As the king led them to the gate, they immediately balked, not daring to enter. “Come, my children,” he reassured them, “in my house are many mansions.”
But they stood there dazed, not sure what that meant. They just stopped. One by one, the king escorted each to their home, but they had no remembrance of it. In the same manner, they balked and stopped short of entering.
“What must we do?” they asked, as if some payment was required.
“Nothing,” replied the king. “Just receive.”
He reminded them that they owned their homes, he had built them for each, but they were unable to accept it. Baffled, they timidly entered their abodes, feeling uncomfortable and unworthy, but doing so in respect to the king. Each home had sufficient rooms and sufficient amenities. They were beautiful and not just in outward appearance. There was just something about each home that said peace and love, that everything was finished. Still, the richness of their surroundings was too much for them to absorb, too much to accept that it was actually theirs for nothing.
The bells rang at the time of dinner and the king’s decree was heard throughout the kingdom: “Come, for all things are ready.” They all heard the decree but again unsure of themselves, they didn’t move. They waited for permission.
The king came and led them to the table over which hung the sign, “Come, For All Things Are Ready.” The table was filled from end to end with the finest fruits, vegetables, meats and wines. They wondered who had prepared it as they stood their distance.
“Be seated,” commanded the king.
Slowly they took their seats, some as if forced, not daring to touch the bounty that lay before them.
“Take. Eat.” Commanded the king again. Most took meagerly, looking around at others to see what they were doing as if afraid of being accused of gluttony or stealing. Despite being encouraged and told to take plentifully, most of the newly repatriated children balked and allowed these blessings to pass them by. Somehow they felt they needed to do something to deserve this bounty and each evening they left much on the table which went to waste. This saddened the king but he was very patient.
For a few, the joy and gladness exploded in their hearts and they hastened to the king’s table and began to take to their heart’s content without shame. They began to remember all that was theirs. These few remembered that all that the king owned, they owned. It was theirs for the taking. They feasted abundantly and joyously on the blessings of the king. To them, somehow the joy was greater than before. For they now knew what they had having experienced the opposite.
“To truly know good,” the king said, “one must know evil, for surely one does not exist without the other. If one knows both, then they know it is one.”
This word quickened in the hearts of the few. They enjoyed without measure that which was rightfully theirs despite being considered strange and underserving by their disapproving brethren. Yet even they were patient with those who had not yet experienced the fullness of the unconditional love that was theirs for only the taking.
To others, these words made no sense. They mulled them over in their hearts but were blind to the wisdom. To them, the world which had once been good, was now split into two contradictory and irreconcilable realms of good and evil that had to be dealt with every day. Now they were self-conscious, judging every move of themselves and others. What was once a labor of love was now by the sweat of the brow. What was once a work that energized now only fatigued. What once was freedom was now obligatory.
Yet nothing had changed. The kingdom was as brilliant as it always had been. Despite being dimmed by their divided outlook of good and evil, they were still in the image of their Father, who rejoiced at their return and waited with infinite patience for their full return to immeasurable freedom and joy.
