A young man is challenged to go beyond what his community considers sufficient. |
Luther had enjoyed himself. That didn’t often happen anymore; at least not because of one of the festivals. There was a time when the weekly festivals filled him completely. He was almost always filled to last until the next week, and he often was filled to overflowing. But not anymore. Now that he realized that the festivals were required by the laws of the county, they seemed to run dry and become nothing more than a set of motions—another weekly intrusion on his time. Usually. Something was different about the main event this week. Thinking back over the proceedings of the morning, Luther realized that little was unusual about the week’s festivities. The musicians had been the same as they usually were—mediocre. The town crier listed the events of the next week in the same way that he always had—unenthused. But something was different about the main event. Of course every week’s main event was different. Often, the head of the county would talk. Sometimes something new would come through town—a new speaker, or a musician, or a group of performers of one kind or another. Except for the head of the county, the main events just moved through town. Each county had their own set of main events. Occasionally, the main events go between the counties, but not usually. Almost every week, someone claimed to have seen the King at the festival. Not everyone saw Him when He was there. Sometimes only one or two people saw Him, sometimes many people saw Him. All main events existed for the same reason—to exalt the King. Sometimes that happened, and sometimes it didn’t. It seemed like the more He was exalted, the more likely He had been present. Luther himself had seen the King on occasions. It wasn’t often, mind you, but it happened. That was why today was different; today may have been one of those days. He wasn’t sure, but the King may have made an appearance. He had seen someone who reminded him of the King. “But shouldn’t the King have looked more…” His thoughts paused as he tried to find the word. “regal? Yeah. More regal? I mean…isn’t that how the county officials are always describing Him?” The man Luther had seen had been doubled over. He was wearing some rags and looked dirty; not at all like the King who was usually described to Luther. However, when He looked at Luther, the young man was overwhelmed. “Such depth, such intensity, such—love. None of that is in the eyes of any of the local beggars. And He looked right at me. He almost seemed to say to me, ‘I love the way you want more than what’s here. Listen to what is going on. I have something to say to YOU about that.’ It must have been the King.” Luther shrugged mentally. Maybe the man was just a beggar, but the possibility that the King wanted Luther to pay attention was why Luther listened that morning. Several times during the speech, the speaker seemed to look directly at Luther. Sometimes what she said gave him chills. All of her points hit hard for Luther. It became overwhelming to him the farther she got in her speech. She was comparing the life of a citizen of the kingdom to the life of someone who just lived there. She began listing the things that were required of non-citizens to meet the King. Things they had to do, things they couldn’t do, decisions to be made—the list of do’s and don’ts went on and on. The part that took his breath away, though, was something she said towards the end of her half-hour. She said, “The King isn’t interested in which county you live in. He is not interested in how many festivals you come to. He doesn’t care if you help during festivals as a ticket taker, or a musician, or even if you are the town-crier on occasion. The lists that I have put before you are not even important to the King. All that He requires of you to see Him is to be registered as a citizen of His kingdom. I can see that all of you live in His kingdom. You come to this King-exalting festival every week. You live in this county. You know at least a little about the King. But have you seen the Prince? He is the manager of all of the citizens. He registers you, and gives you the papers you need to go before the King. All you need is those papers.” There was more to what the woman said, but Luther was stopped by “All you need is those papers.” He had those papers. His county had filled them out when he was born. It was a special ceremony that Luther’s parents had gone through in which they promised to teach him about the King and the kingdom. It basically meant that Luther learned what being a citizen of the King meant from the day he was born. His parents had also taught him that the papers without the signature of the Prince were useless. His parent’s, even though they filled out most of the papers, couldn’t make him a citizen. He had to go to the Prince and have Him sign it personally. And Luther had. The Prince had signed the papers to finish the paperwork. Luther was an official citizen of the kingdom of the Great King. He had a copy of “The Book of Rules and Regulations” at home. The BRR is all of the rules of the great kingdom. That is to say, he owned a copy; he hadn’t really read it. The festivals usually had a time in which they read parts of it, and the main events usually referenced it often throughout their half-hour. Course, the main event often would only reference the parts that showed that the set of regulations for the county was what the King wanted for His kingdom. The county of the festival was always the county that understood the King’s rules best. But what caught Luther about the woman’s message was what she said about that being “All you need…” Luther had wanted to meet the King for as long as he could remember, but had never known how. He had determined in his heart that he would ask the woman more about what she said. “He told me you’d come to find me.” Luther turned around. He was sure that he had been headed toward the speaker, but there she was behind him with a big smile. “He told me to go find you first. So I did.” “Who told you I’d come find you? And who told you to come find me first?” She laughed. “The King.” Luther was stunned. At first he was completely speechless. His mind filled with questions, but his mouth didn’t seem able to ask them. Finally, Luther said, “The King told you to come find me? Why? Wait! Was He here this morning? At the main event?” The woman nodded. “He has watched you ever since the Prince signed your papers. He watches all of his citizens.” Her voice filled with sorrow. “Far too many never realize it.” Her voice drifted off. Luther didn’t seem to notice. “You mean He knows who I am?” Again, the woman nodded, her bright smile back. “You might be surprised to know how well He knows you. You’d be even more surprised to know how much He cares about you, too.” Luther was overwhelmed. Why should the King care about him? They talked from lunch well into the evening. Luther couldn’t believe what she was telling him! The King couldn’t possibly care as much as she was saying He did. It was impossible. There were too many people for Him to know and care about each of them. Every time Luther gave an argument, or at least what seemed to be an argument, against what she was saying, the woman just smiled. As evening closed on the town, she said, “You are just like He said you would be. Very inquisitive—almost quarrelsome. He told me that you’d ask a lot of things that I couldn’t answer. He wanted me to tell you that the BRR has all of His answers to everything of consequence. He said, ‘If Luther has any questions, tell him to just talk to me. If he talks to me, I will hear, and I will answer.’ He is waiting to hear from you.” With that, she got up and walked out the door while Luther thought about what they had talked about. He couldn’t believe what he was reading. Luther hadn’t expected everything that the woman had said to be in the BRR. He had found rules for eating and sleeping as well as regulations for clothing and personal care—everything that he could possibly ask a question about was referenced somewhere. But the best thing he found was Reg. 3.23.A-3.23.C. It said that “(A)If you don’t maintain all of the requirements of this book, then you will never see the King. (B)The King has graciously provided an alternative. The Prince will sign papers for anyone who comes to Him. (C)Those papers allow the bearer to see the King without exception.” Although he didn’t understand it or know how it was possible, Luther wanted to see the King. The woman had told him that if he had any questions, all Luther had to do was talk to the King. “How can I do that?” Luther thought. “Just ask,” a voice responded. Or had it? Luther was a little surprised; he had never heard voices before. “Just ask your question,” the voice persisted. “But how?” Luther asked aloud. “Just ask.” “I don’t understand.” “Comprehension is not essential. Knowing and believing are essential. Understanding will come.” “How can I ask a question and just expect an answer?” “You just did.” Luther paused—he had. He had just asked a question, and he had fully expected the voice to answer. “Does it answer my thoughts, too?” he wondered. “Yes,” Luther heard. “So, how can I see the King?” Luther waited. The voice didn’t answer. “Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe I was just imagining the voice.” Luther glanced down at the page in the BRR that he was holding. “Those papers allow the bearer to see the King without exception,” it said. “Maybe that’s it; maybe I just need to take the papers with me to see the king.” “You are learning. Eventually, you will begin to understand.” It was the voice again. It was very clear and quite audible, but Luther wasn’t entirely sure whether he was the only one who could hear it or not. “I will lead you.” ~For God so loved the world that He sent His one and only Son that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.~ |