“What
should we do?
That's the question John the Baptist gets asked three times this Sunday—
by the crowds, the tax collectors, and the soldiers.
"What should we do?
You've told us that someone mightier is coming after you,
and that he'll set this world on fire.
How do we get ready?
What difference ought this to make in our lives?
What should we do?"
Two thousands years later, it's still a pertinent question.
That's the question John the Baptist gets asked three times this Sunday—
by the crowds, the tax collectors, and the soldiers.
"What should we do?
You've told us that someone mightier is coming after you,
and that he'll set this world on fire.
How do we get ready?
What difference ought this to make in our lives?
What should we do?"
Two thousands years later, it's still a pertinent question.
This week,
I came across a story
by the great Russian author, Leo Tolstoy,
which gets us closer to an answer.
Appropriately enough,
it’s called, The Three Questions.
I came across a story
by the great Russian author, Leo Tolstoy,
which gets us closer to an answer.
Appropriately enough,
it’s called, The Three Questions.
It once occurred
to a certain King,
that if he
always knew the right time to begin everything;
if he knew who
were the right people to listen to, and whom to avoid;
and, above all,
if he always knew what was the most important thing to do,
he would never
fail in anything he might undertake.
And [so the
King] had it proclaimed throughout his kingdom
that he would
give a great reward to anyone [who could answer his questions.]
[Many
knowledgeable people] came to the King,
but they all
answered his questions differently.…
[T]he King agreed with none of them, and
gave the reward to none.
But still
wishing to find the right answers to his questions,
he decided to
consult a hermit, widely renowned for his wisdom.
The hermit lived
in a wood which he never left,
and he received
none but common folk.
So the King put
on simple clothes,
and before
reaching the hermit's cell climbed down from his horse,
and, leaving his
bodyguard behind, went on alone.
When the King
approached,
the hermit was
digging the ground in front of his hut.
Seeing the King, he greeted him and went on digging.
Seeing the King, he greeted him and went on digging.
The hermit was
frail and weak,
and each time he
stuck his shovel into the ground and turned a little earth,
he breathed
heavily.
The King went up
to him and said:
"I have
come to you, wise hermit, to ask you to answer three questions:
How can I learn
to do the right thing at the right time?
Who are the
people I most need,
and to whom
should I, therefore, pay more attention than to the rest?
And, what
affairs are the most important, and need my first attention?"
The hermit
listened to the King, but answered nothing.
He just spat on
his hand and started digging again.
"You are
tired," said the King, "let me take the shovel and work awhile for you."
"Thank
you!" said the hermit,
and, giving the
shovel to the King, he sat down on the ground.
When he had dug
two beds, the King stopped and repeated his questions.
The hermit again
gave no answer…and the King continued to dig....
One hour passed,
and another.
"I came to
you, wise man,” [said the King,] “for an answer to my questions.
If you can give
me none, tell me so, and I will return home."
"Here comes
someone running," said the hermit. "Let us see who it is."
The King turned
round,
The man held his
hands pressed against his side,
and blood was
flowing from under them.
When he reached
the King,
he fell fainting on the ground moaning weakly.
The King and the
hermit unfastened the man's clothing.
There was a
large wound in his side.
The King washed
it as best he could,
and bandaged it
with his handkerchief
and with a towel the hermit had.
When at last the
blood ceased flowing,
the man revived
and asked for something to drink.
The King brought
fresh water and gave it to him.
Meanwhile the
sun had set, and it had become cool.
So the King,
with the hermit's help,
carried the
wounded man into the hut
and laid him on the bed.
[The King]
crouched down in the doorway,
and also fell asleep.
When he awoke in
the morning,
it was awhile
before he could remember where he was,
or who was this
strange bearded man lying on the bed
and gazing
intently [up] at him with bright eyes.
"Forgive
me!" said the bearded man in a weak voice,
when he saw that
the King was awake and was looking at him.
"I do not
know you, and have nothing to forgive you for," said the King.
"You do not
know me, but I know you.
I am that enemy
of yours who swore to take revenge on you,
because you
executed my brother and seized my property.
I knew you had
gone alone to see the hermit,
and I resolved
to kill you on your way back.
But the day
passed and you did not return.
So I came out
from hiding to find you,
and I came upon
your bodyguard, and he recognized me, and wounded me.
I escaped from
him,
but would have
bled to death had you not dressed my wound.
I wished to kill
you, and you have saved my life.
Now, if I live,
and if you wish it, I will serve you as your most faithful slave,
and will bid my
sons do the same.
Forgive
me!"
The King was
very glad…to have gained him for a friend,
and he not only
forgave him,
but said he
would send his servants and his own doctor to attend him,
and promised to
restore his property.
Having taken
leave of the wounded man, the King went out.
The hermit was
outside, on his knees,
sowing seeds in
the beds that had been dug the day before.
The King
approached him, and said:
"For the
last time, I pray you to answer my questions, wise man."
"They have
already been answered!" said the hermit.
"What do
you mean?" asked the King.
"Do you not
see?" replied the hermit.
"If you had
not pitied my weakness yesterday,
and had not dug
those beds for me, but had gone your way,
that man would
have attacked you,
and you would
have been sorry for not having stayed with me.
So the most
important time was when you were digging the beds;
and I was the
most important person;
and to do me
good was your most important business.
Afterwards when
that man ran to us,
the most
important time was when you were attending to him,
for if you had
not bound up his wounds
he would have
died without having made peace with you.
So he was the
most important person,
and what you did
for him was your most important business.
Remember then: there is only one time that is important—Now!
Remember then: there is only one time that is important—Now!
It is the most
important time
because it is
the only time when we have any power.
The most
necessary person is the one with whom you are,
for no one knows
whether
he will ever
have dealings with anybody else:
and the most
important affair is, to do him good,
because for that
purpose alone were we sent into this life!"
“What
should we do?”
The question once put to John the Baptist is still as relevant as ever.
And the answers Tolstoy proposed in his story ought to ring true for us—
especially in this Advent season,
particularly in the Jubilee Year of Mercy:
Now is the time, this is the moment, today is the day
to see the Lord and to serve the Lord in our neighbor.
Or as St. Paul puts it,
"Rejoice always.
Your kindness should be known to all.
The Lord is near."
To truly live by this faith changes absolutely everything.
And the answers Tolstoy proposed in his story ought to ring true for us—
especially in this Advent season,
particularly in the Jubilee Year of Mercy:
Now is the time, this is the moment, today is the day
to see the Lord and to serve the Lord in our neighbor.
Or as St. Paul puts it,
"Rejoice always.
Your kindness should be known to all.
The Lord is near."
To truly live by this faith changes absolutely everything.
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