Many days passed and the citizens began to notice that fewer and fewer strangers visited their town. The wanderers had long since moved on. Rumor had it that they had made a new home in the city of Newchurch.
The king of Kingschurch had not yet returned from his journey. Some of the citizens began to worry that something bad had happened to the king in his travels. Others seemed content to follow the direction of the town elders who were ruling in place of the king.
Some began to notice how dilapidated their fair city had become. The bright yellow banners were now tattered and dingy. The buildings were starting to crumble. Even the cheery music that wafted through her corridors seemed to be sad.
The citizens decided to tidy things up a bit and make repairs. They painted everything a dull gray to match the color of the wall. New gray banners were hung from the spires of the city. Surely, these improvements would attract more visitors to Kingschurch.
One day, the leading elder suggested that the town build a new banquet hall. It would be furnished with the finest linens, the best china and the most comfortable furniture in the land. “This new banquet hall will attract visitors to our wonderful city,” said the elder. “A great idea,” declared the other elders, “Let’s start right away.”
When the banquet hall was built, a great feast was proclaimed throughout the city. The citizens were encouraged to invite strangers and friends to the banquet. The feast was spread, the places set, and the wine was poured.
The hall was not as full as everyone had hoped. Some citizens from surrounding towns like Drearychurch and Inwardchurch were present, but no strangers. The citizens of Kingschurch had forgotten to invite the strangers they knew to the feast. Still, the banquet went on and a good time was had by all.
More time passed. Many of the citizens of Kingschurch had crossed over the river into the land of Goldencity. Those remaining often reminisced about the old days, when the city was thriving. They would look at the paintings of their great feasts which artists had painted long ago and sigh.
“Strangers just don’t care about living in cities anymore,” said the leading elder. “We have tried everything we know to make our city beautiful and attractive for strangers, yet they don’t seem to care,” said another, “Worst of all, our great king has forsaken us. He now rules over the town of Newchurch.”
Kingschurch is nothing more than a memory now. Her gates hang limply from their hinges, her banners are torn and her streets are quiet – not even the sound of a mouse can be heard in the once fair city. If you ask any stranger in that land about her, they know nothing of her splendor or her great king. They just stare at you in silence.
Showing posts with label Parables. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parables. Show all posts
Friday, March 9, 2007
The Parable of Kingschurch - Pt. 2
The day of the feast came. There were tables spread throughout the Kingschurch Banquet Hall; they seemed to go on for miles. Every kind of food one could want was laid out in abundance: the finest wine, the freshest fruits, the most succulent meats and the pick of the garden.
A few of the wanderers came into the banquet hall. They did not see the ones who invited them to the feast. Instead, they saw some of the citizens standing in a group beside one of the tables. Those citizens glared at the wanderers with suspicion yet none dared say a word out loud.
After a while, the wanderers began to feel uncomfortable. No one had attempted to make them leave, yet no one had welcomed them either. One of the wanderers remarked, “If this is how the king teaches his subjects to treat others, I am sure I would never want to live here.”
After the feast, the wanders departed the banquet hall to go back to their camp. A few of the citizens had made a feeble attempt to greet the wanderers, but none dared to get to know them.
The next day, some of the citizens called a meeting. “Something has to be done about these wanderers,” said one of the leading town elders, “we can’t have them ruining our feasts. They are nothing but commoners!”
After a lengthy discussion, it was decided that a wall had to be built around the city. This wall would protect their fair city from the wanderers and other riff-raff and allow the people of Kingschurch to enjoy their peaceful refuge. It was to be constructed of the finest rock and mortar – nice and high.
Construction began immediately. But, there was anything but peace in Kingschurch. A dispute had broken out about what color the wall should be painted. Some wanted the wall to retain the natural stone color. Others wanted to paint it a bright, cheery yellow to match the banners of that city. There were a few who didn’t want the wall at all. But their concerns were dismissed by the majority of the citizens.
When the wall was completed, many of the citizens gathered together for a great wall dedication ceremony. The people had invited the king to attend, but he declined the invitation. The king had other plans – to travel to the city of Newchurch which had been started by some of the citizens of Kingschurch (the ones who didn’t want to build the wall).
The decision was made to dedicate the wall in honor of the leading elder who had suggested building the wall. After all, this man had supplied much of the stone and mortar to build the wall. A statue honoring the leading elder was unveiled that day and the citizens were filled with joy at seeing the new stone wall – painted a dull gray of course!
To be continued...
A few of the wanderers came into the banquet hall. They did not see the ones who invited them to the feast. Instead, they saw some of the citizens standing in a group beside one of the tables. Those citizens glared at the wanderers with suspicion yet none dared say a word out loud.
After a while, the wanderers began to feel uncomfortable. No one had attempted to make them leave, yet no one had welcomed them either. One of the wanderers remarked, “If this is how the king teaches his subjects to treat others, I am sure I would never want to live here.”
After the feast, the wanders departed the banquet hall to go back to their camp. A few of the citizens had made a feeble attempt to greet the wanderers, but none dared to get to know them.
The next day, some of the citizens called a meeting. “Something has to be done about these wanderers,” said one of the leading town elders, “we can’t have them ruining our feasts. They are nothing but commoners!”
After a lengthy discussion, it was decided that a wall had to be built around the city. This wall would protect their fair city from the wanderers and other riff-raff and allow the people of Kingschurch to enjoy their peaceful refuge. It was to be constructed of the finest rock and mortar – nice and high.
Construction began immediately. But, there was anything but peace in Kingschurch. A dispute had broken out about what color the wall should be painted. Some wanted the wall to retain the natural stone color. Others wanted to paint it a bright, cheery yellow to match the banners of that city. There were a few who didn’t want the wall at all. But their concerns were dismissed by the majority of the citizens.
When the wall was completed, many of the citizens gathered together for a great wall dedication ceremony. The people had invited the king to attend, but he declined the invitation. The king had other plans – to travel to the city of Newchurch which had been started by some of the citizens of Kingschurch (the ones who didn’t want to build the wall).
The decision was made to dedicate the wall in honor of the leading elder who had suggested building the wall. After all, this man had supplied much of the stone and mortar to build the wall. A statue honoring the leading elder was unveiled that day and the citizens were filled with joy at seeing the new stone wall – painted a dull gray of course!
To be continued...
The Parable of Kingschurch - Pt. 1
The Parable of Kingschurch
Once upon a time there was a city named Kingschurch. Her gates were always open to travelers and her colorful banners were seen waving high above the spires of her buildings. Those banners waved in the breeze to all who passed by as if to invite them in to explore her goods. Her beauty and hospitality were well known throughout the land.
All who visited there were welcomed with great joy and invited to make their home there, that is, if the stranger had no home. Much laughter and joy could be heard in her streets. Cheerful music wafted through her corridors and good news was always the order of the day. Kingschurch was a place of refuge for citizen and stranger alike – everyone knew her as a place of peace.
The people would often brag about their city whenever they traveled away from her. For many of them labored outside her gates in the countryside. Those people were especially proud of their King – a benevolent sovereign who always put the best interests of the people first. They loved the king so much, that they told many strangers about his valiant deeds and invited them to come and meet him personally. His chamber was always open to receiving new people.
For many years, Kingschurch was a beacon on a hill. The people of that land looked to her with admiration and vowed to visit her one day. But the citizens of Kingschurch lost their sense of wonder about their king and their fair town. They began to take what they had for granted.
One day, a dispute broke out about a neighboring group of wanderers who had set up camp outside of Kingschurch. Some of the citizens began to complain about the personal appearance of these wanderers – they didn’t wear the bright colorful uniforms that those citizens were so accustomed to wearing. “They wear the clothes of the commoners,” one man complained. “Yes, and they are dirty too,” quipped another lady.
No one was quite sure what to do about these wanderers. So they decided to visit the King regarding the matter. Some said they ought to welcome the new strangers and some said they ought to turn them away.
The king was quite intrigued by the citizen’s complaints. After listening to their concerns, he addressed the assembled crowd. “I am preparing a great feast,” proclaimed the king, “and I want everyone to come whether they are a citizen of Kingschurch or stranger. It will be a day of joy and celebration. So go to those wanderers and invite them to my banquet as well as any others you may see along the road.”
The crowd filed out of the king’s chamber. Some were mumbling under their breath; others were apathetic about the king’s feast. However, a few were excited about inviting the wanderers to the celebration. Immediately, they left to visit the camp of the wanderers to tell them the good news.
To be Continued...
Once upon a time there was a city named Kingschurch. Her gates were always open to travelers and her colorful banners were seen waving high above the spires of her buildings. Those banners waved in the breeze to all who passed by as if to invite them in to explore her goods. Her beauty and hospitality were well known throughout the land.
All who visited there were welcomed with great joy and invited to make their home there, that is, if the stranger had no home. Much laughter and joy could be heard in her streets. Cheerful music wafted through her corridors and good news was always the order of the day. Kingschurch was a place of refuge for citizen and stranger alike – everyone knew her as a place of peace.
The people would often brag about their city whenever they traveled away from her. For many of them labored outside her gates in the countryside. Those people were especially proud of their King – a benevolent sovereign who always put the best interests of the people first. They loved the king so much, that they told many strangers about his valiant deeds and invited them to come and meet him personally. His chamber was always open to receiving new people.
For many years, Kingschurch was a beacon on a hill. The people of that land looked to her with admiration and vowed to visit her one day. But the citizens of Kingschurch lost their sense of wonder about their king and their fair town. They began to take what they had for granted.
One day, a dispute broke out about a neighboring group of wanderers who had set up camp outside of Kingschurch. Some of the citizens began to complain about the personal appearance of these wanderers – they didn’t wear the bright colorful uniforms that those citizens were so accustomed to wearing. “They wear the clothes of the commoners,” one man complained. “Yes, and they are dirty too,” quipped another lady.
No one was quite sure what to do about these wanderers. So they decided to visit the King regarding the matter. Some said they ought to welcome the new strangers and some said they ought to turn them away.
The king was quite intrigued by the citizen’s complaints. After listening to their concerns, he addressed the assembled crowd. “I am preparing a great feast,” proclaimed the king, “and I want everyone to come whether they are a citizen of Kingschurch or stranger. It will be a day of joy and celebration. So go to those wanderers and invite them to my banquet as well as any others you may see along the road.”
The crowd filed out of the king’s chamber. Some were mumbling under their breath; others were apathetic about the king’s feast. However, a few were excited about inviting the wanderers to the celebration. Immediately, they left to visit the camp of the wanderers to tell them the good news.
To be Continued...
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