This is a short story I wrote
a few years ago that was published in Dialogue. I’ve broken it into three parts because it’s fairly
lengthy. The idea came to me one day when I was wondering what living in the
terrestrial kingdom would be like. Trying to put flesh on the bones of that
question revealed some perplexing paradoxes.
_______________________________
The next day
fifty people gathered at Kim’s house. A few new faces were there simply out of
curiosity, but others had heard about the soccer and the discussions and wanted
to learn about Kim’s changes.
After giving the
group a few minutes to visit, Kim tapped a crystal goblet with a spoon to get
their attention.
“Let me get to
the point,” he said. “Alma was right yesterday. Soccer isn’t enough. If we want
our lives to be meaningful, if we want a purpose that can sustain us for an
eternity, we need more opposition, more conflict.”
“What are you
thinking of?” asked Leslie.
“We can’t do much
to cause physical pain or illness or even poverty, and we don’t have any
natural disasters here. I’ve thought recently that what we need in the
terrestrial world is a massive forest fire. We need a little Nevada here to
help us appreciate all the beauty. Unfortunately, our trees are as eternal and
indestructible as we are. And we can’t cause a drought or an earthquake or a
hurricane. So what we’re left with is what we can control.”
“What would that
be?” asked Ronny.
“We can create
inequality.”
Kim looked around
and saw puzzled expressions. Everyone in the room could remember inequality, of
course, but none of them had experienced it since the resurrection.
“Inequality
creates tension,” Kim explained, “and tension creates conflict, and conflict
gives people opportunities to rise or fall, to conquer or surrender. In all of
mortal history, the goal was always to overcome conflict and create a peaceful,
prosperous society. Mortals achieved this ideal state only a handful of times;
but when they did, they tended to stagnate. That’s why Adam and Eve had to
leave the Garden of Eden. It was nice, but it was a sort of damnation for them.
As it is for us. There’s something about inequality and conflict and adversity
that pushes people to improve. If there is no conflict, there can be no
victory. And Alma was right—soccer is just a surrogate conflict, so it can’t
produce a genuine victory. Or a meaningful defeat.”
“Just how do you
propose we create this inequality?” asked Cory. “We all have everything we
need.”
“Maybe we’ll
create money,” Kim answered. “Money is the seedbed of inequality.”
“But what could
we buy or sell? And who would buy it?”
“We start
accumulating things we don’t need.”
“Such as?” Leslie
asked.
“For starters,
I’m going to take a surname. Nobody in this entire world uses a surname. So
from now on I want you all to call me Kim Contra.”
Cory laughed.
“People will just think you’re vain.”
“Good. That’s a
start. And next, we’ll start charging people to watch our soccer games and
listen to us speak about our plans for a more unequal society.”
“But what will we
use for money?” asked Ronny.
“Jewelry,
polished stones, bottles of colored sand, whatever. Money is just a symbol. On
earth we used paper, which was only worth something because of what it
symbolized. Or maybe we can have our spectators pay with a contract to serve us
in some way.”
“But why would
anyone want to watch us play soccer, let alone pay for the privilege?” asked
Leslie.
“Because it is
forbidden.” Kim flashed a devious grin.
After everyone
left, Kim was lying on the sofa when a strange thing happened: He fell asleep.
And he dreamed. He was standing in a field of rocky soil and tiny corn plants,
holding a crude hoe made of a carved wooden shaft and a flat rock. He was
trying to keep the weeds from strangling his corn crop. Kim marveled. He hadn’t
seen a weed in over six thousand years. A cow was lowing softly in the
distance, and the clucking of nearby chickens almost drowned out the cow’s
complaints. A wooden fence separated the corn from several squat buildings made
of rough wood and adobe with thatched roofs.
“Sam,” a voice
called from somewhere near the buildings. “Sam!”
“Over here,” he
yelled, not even wondering why he answered to the name Sam.
A woman came from
behind one of the buildings, a genuine woman, leading a black and white spotted
cow behind her on a braided rope.
“Sam, Melba has
gotten into my garden again. You need to mend that fence.”
“I’ll get to it
this afternoon, Nori,” he said. Somehow he not only knew her name but knew that
she was his wife.
“No, you’ll get
to it right now. I can’t have Melba eating my peas. Your weeding will wait.”
“Yes, dear,” he
said with just a hint of impatience, and yet inside he felt a zest for life and
a bond to Nori that was as tangible as the hoe he held in his hands.
He was tired. He was
always tired, and his body ached from hard work, but it felt good. He leaned
the hoe against the fence and walked toward Nori with a broad grin on his face.
He took her in his arms, and then suddenly he was awake.
His heart was
pounding, a physical reaction even four hours of soccer had not produced.
* *
*
Their next
meeting was at Ronny’s house. When the others found out about Kim’s dream, they
were both jealous and nervous.
“Why did it
happen?” asked Leslie. “It’s not normal.”
“What we’re doing
is not normal,” answered Kim. “I think it’s a sign.”
“Of what?” asked
Ronny.
“That we’re doing
something right. We’re changing things.”
“What’s next?”
asked Cory.
“We need to
create some real opposition in this world.”
“What do you have
in mind?” asked Pat, looking concerned.
“Well, without
evil in this world, there is no real virtue. And because there is neither good
nor evil, we have no stories here worth telling or history worth writing. If
people here are to be virtuous or creative, there must be something for them to
oppose, to rise up against. There must be evil. And if no one else will provide
it, then I will.”
A collective gasp
escaped the group.
“You can’t be
serious,” said Ronny.
“Of course I am.
Where do you think this little experiment has been heading all along, Ronny? An
eternal soccer league? I’m bored. You’re all bored too. We’re all stagnant
here. Do you want that for eternity? Do you think anybody does—even Alma? Of
course not. But nobody is willing to give us opposition, so I have to. I am willing
to make that sacrifice for the good of all. You can join me if you like.”
“But no unclean
thing can dwell in the kingdoms of God,” said Cory. “That’s an eternal truth.
It’s the condition for our staying here. If we rebel, we’ll be cast out.”
“Then let them
cast me out,” Kim stated defiantly. “Because I don’t want to live here if there
is nothing to fight for, nothing worth losing everything over.”
He stared at the
group, but only a handful dared look him in the eye. Everyone knew the meeting
was over, and slowly, most of them slipped away. Eventually only five remained.
“Well, there goes
our soccer league,” said Leslie with a wry grin.
Kim laughed.
“There will be more. But we have work to do. Go home and think about this. If
you’re committed, then come to my house tomorrow at noon. If not, I’ll
understand.”
He turned away
and walked home.
Later that
evening Alma stopped by.
“Some of your
former disciples came to see me, Kim Contra,” he said. Kim thought he
heard a hint of sarcasm in Alma’s voice.
“They’re not my
disciples. They’re my friends.”
“Not anymore.”
“Maybe they don’t
consider me their friend, but I consider them mine.”
“Whatever,” Alma
shrugged. “They told me what you want to do.”
“Have to do,” Kim
corrected him.
“This is
unprecedented, you know,” Alma said. “Creating evil intentionally so that
others can achieve genuine goodness. Admirable, but misguided.”
“I’m amazed it
took me over five thousand years. And I’m amazed I was the first to reach this
conclusion.”
“Don’t flatter
yourself.”
“There have been
others?” Kim asked, genuinely surprised.
Alma shrugged.
“Not in Caldora.”
“Not anywhere
else either, I’d wager.”
“The terrestrial
world isn’t exactly a hotbed of former revolutionaries,” Alma conceded. “All
the creative geniuses and real leaders from earth ended up in either the
celestial kingdom or the telestial. We’re the ones who were unwilling to pay
the price.”
“Maybe we’re just
slow,” Kim offered.
“Maybe.”
“So, have you
come to try to talk me out of my heretical plans?”
“Oh no, not at
all.”
“You want to join
me?” Kim grinned.
Now Alma smiled
too. “Not that either.”
“Then why are you
here?”
“When your
disappointed disciples left me, I made contact with the authorities.”
“I’m too big of a
problem for you and Marn?”
“Quite frankly,
yes,” replied Alma. “I told them what you’ve been doing and what you’re
planning.”
“And?”
“You’ll be
receiving a guest tomorrow.”
“From the
capital?”
“No, from the
celestial world.”
“Then I’d better
clean the place up.”
“Good luck, Kim.”
Alma turned and
walked out.
Kim didn’t bother
cleaning. He sat alone and wondered what the authorities would do. No one had
ever been imprisoned in the terrestrial world. And no one had ever been
banished. It had been a point of doctrinal discussion on earth whether there
was advancement from lower to higher kingdoms in the hereafter, but after the
resurrection, no one needed to ask. The nature of resurrected bodies in the
various kingdoms rendered all discussion moot. But now Kim pondered the
opposite question. Was it possible for a person to regress, to be demoted from
a higher kingdom to a lower one, or even to outer darkness? This last thought
chilled his soul, but he knew he couldn’t turn back.
Sometime in the
middle of the night Kim heard, and ignored, a knock at the door. After a minute
or so, Cory and Leslie walked in.
“We talked with
Alma,” said Cory. “He told us what’s happening.”
“You’re here
because you’re curious? You want to see what happens to me?”
“No,” Leslie
replied. “We’re here because we’re your friends. And we support you.”
“What if I’m no
longer fit to stay in this world?”
“Then we’ll leave
with you.”
“What if I’m sent
to outer darkness?”
“They can’t do
that to you,” said Cory
“How do you
know?”
“Because you’re
not trying to do anything wrong.”
“Sure I am. I’m
rebelling. I want to create evil.”
“No, you’re
trying to create opposition, which people need, even if they don’t realize it.”
“Maybe I’m wrong.
Maybe people don’t need it. Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I don’t belong here.”
“Then we don’t
either.”
“Thanks for your
support,” Kim said. “But I think I need to be alone until they come.”
“We understand,”
Leslie offered. “We just wanted you to know we’re with you.”
Kim nodded, and
his two friends left.
* * *
The next day at
exactly noon the celestial visitor arrived.
Kim had limited
experience with celestial beings, but the light streaming from this one was so
intense he had to shield his eyes.
Kim motioned
toward the sofa. “Please sit down.” The being did not sit, but planted himself
squarely before Kim and looked down on him with both compassion and curiosity.
“Kim,” he said,
“I am Raphael. Do you know why I am here?”
“I think so.”
“We have been
aware of your little movement here. I’m afraid you have reached the point of no
return. You cannot stay in the terrestrial world any longer.”
Kim’s head
drooped. This is what he had feared.
“So, where are
you sending me? The telestial world? Outer darkness? A planet where I will
spend eternity all alone? How do you handle cases like mine?”
“Fortunately,”
Raphael answered, “there are few cases like yours. But we have a special
program that you might find interesting.”
“What do you do
with eternal misfits like me? I don’t really belong anywhere, except maybe
mortality.” Kim sighed. “I guess I’m trying to finish finding the purpose I
couldn’t figure out on earth.”
“Yes, you are
right. So that is what we offer you.”
“Go back to
mortality?”
“Yes.”
“But I’m
immortal. The resurrection is permanent.”
“Maybe not as
permanent as you think.”
Kim squinted into
the bright celestial light and stared at his visitor.
“There is a
fruit,” Raphael stated. “You know this, but you have never made the connection.
It is a fruit with the power to change an immortal body back into a mortal one,
but it does not grow in this world.”
“The tree of the
knowledge of good and evil,” Kim whispered. “I don’t understand.”
“When we people a
new world, we need two first parents who are immortal and are willing to fall.”
“But I have a
terrestrial body. I can’t very well procreate, you know.”
“The fruit is
very potent.” Raphael’s expression was serious, but his voice betrayed mild
amusement. “What do you say?”
“Do I have a
choice?” Kim asked.
“Not really. We
know what you will choose.”
Suddenly a light
went on in Kim’s mind. “And where will Nori come from?”
Now Raphael
smiled openly. “Her name at present is Leslie.”
“And what will
happen to Cory and the others?”
“If they follow
in your footsteps, they will also partake of the fruit.”
“And if I find a
greater purpose than I did in my first try at mortality?”
“Then you will
lead your posterity into a celestial world.”
“And Julie?”
“You know the
answer.”
“Yes, I do. And I
know it will be hard.”
“Then shall we
go?”
Kim nodded.
“Take my hand.”
As Kim touched
the celestial flesh, a calm came over him, and then a subtle breeze that shook
him to the core, and suddenly he could remember nothing.
“Come, Sam,” said
Raphael. “There is much you need to learn before we place you in the Garden.”