THE WAY OF THE MASTER’S PALACE: A STORY
I was walking one day toward the great palace. There the Master lived. He had summoned me to the palace, though I had no idea why. I didn’t know what to expect when I entered the premises. I just hoped that I would be received by him with a smile, not a frown. When I entered the majestic structure I was trembling noticeably. The castle was an august sight, tall, majestic, glittering with polished gold. My inner soul witnessed within me that I was encountering something more sublime than I have ever encountered before. But I was not filled with joy. I was completely unnerved by it all and found myself uttering “woe is me” and “O wretched man that I am.” I stood at the entrance for a second and suddenly I felt the arm of a winged guard usher me into the anterior room. There I stood for a moment scoping out the spacious walls. I felt very small. Then I looked to one side and saw large, black and white sign that boasted in large letters, “RULES OF THE CASTLE.” I was drawn in and read the ten rules with great interest. Certainly it would be important for me to know them if I were ever to be warmly received by the Master. No sooner had I finished reading them when one of the somber looking guards said, “Let’s go,” and I was immediately led through a door that opened wide to what appeared to be the interior of the palace, a maze of halls lined with many paintings and statutes worthy of someone great. As i wandered through a series of halls which seemed to weave every which way, I noticed little placards on the walls that seemed to explain the ten great rules in a more detailed manner. I remember the first of the ten laws had said, “One must always honor the Master and him alone.” But one of these placards went deeper and said, “In order to honor the Master, you must hold him first among all things in ALL your thoughts for all time.” Another of the ten laws had said, “You must give honor to all the lesser authorities who work in the palace.” But now I read on another placard, “You must always talk well of those who labor in the palace and uphold their reputation in EVERY conversation.” In reading these little reminders I came to realize that the ten general commands I had read in the beginning were not only to be obeyed externally but their meaning extended over the hidden things of my inner man, my thoughts, my heart, my motives. This downright terrified me. With effort I could possibly obey the ten main rules. I could achieve some measure of outward conformity. But to require that I was to obey them inwardly, in areas of my life that no one could see, and do it perfectly at all times, made me want to melt into the floor. But I had no choice. I was ushered rather quickly to the Great Hall of the Master and there was no way of escape. The best I could do was to try to modify my thought life and re-arrange my motives, and sweeten my secret impulses. But then a guard grabbed my arm and I felt murder in my soul. At once I realized that inward conformity to these rules was absolutely impossible. As I strolled - or should I say, limped - toward the great hall, I had another brilliant thought that might save me. What if I could keep some of the great laws perfectly, perhaps the Master would be impressed and give me some credit for obedience in certain areas. But those hopes were quickly dashed when right before I entered the outer rooms of the court I saw this placard which made me want to die, “Remember, if you have kept all the rules yet disobeyed one rule, the Master considers that disobedience to all the rules.” My heart sank to the depths. My body wilted and I slumped over in hopeless resignation. The guards lifted me up and pulled me through the outer door. There sat a man who was issuing tickets to all who entered. I had no idea what they were until I received mine. On it was my history since entering the palace, a listing of all my infractions since I had entered. There were too many to count. Most of them highlighted thoughts that I had entertained, anger at the guards, low thoughts of the Master, frustration with the strictness of the rules and much more. It even listed my fleeting thought when I had quickly desired to have a guard’s beautiful shoes. This ticket I was to give to the Master. I spelled certain doom for me. There was no way out, no escape, no sob story, no extenuation of difficult circumstances, no pleading of my virtues. Just before I entered that death chamber I spotted a man, a glorious man, in a side room. A guard told me it was the Master’s son. I say he was glorious because I could sense an inner beauty that permeated his being. His face was gentle yet pained. But it was rather grotesque, a face ‘marred more than any man.’ As I walked by I felt compelled to walk over to him. Maybe I could do good and show him pity. I asked myself, “Why did he seem so battered and bruised?” Perhaps he, the Master’s only son, had been punished for his infractions. Then my lot would be infinitely worse. He did not hide his face from me. As I approached he held out his hand, deeply scarred. In it was a ticket, it was his ticket. By looking at his horrid form I assumed it would be full of violations. Perhaps he had led a rebellion against his dad, perhaps he had not fully done his father’s will. My mind searched for answers. He handed me his ticket and it was completely blank. I looked at it expecting the worst. But only one thing was written on it, “He does always the things that please the father.” His record was pure; never once had he violated the rule of the palace. There were no infractions, none. The mystery haunted my mind, “Why then was He punished?” Then came the shock of my lifetime. He put his ticket firmly in my hand and took my besotted ticket and put it into his hand. And as soon as the guards saw the ticket he now held they immediately ushered him away into a dark room where there seemed to be the sounds of weeping and gnashing of teeth. I now turned to the door that entered the inner chamber befuddled and disoriented. I had no idea what had taken place. All I knew was that I was now miraculously holding the son’s ticket in my hand. At once I stood before the Master. It was hard to reach his countenance; it was sober yet kind, angry yet merciful. His hair was long, flowing, snow white. His voice spilled forth sonorously like a flowing river. Before I could say a word he asked me for my ticket. He peered at it for a moment, then lifted his piercing eyes and said, “This is a wonderful ticket but it is not yours. Where did you get it?”
“I know,” my Master, “I have no idea what happened. but your son took my ticket and handed me his. I wanted to object but the guards whisked him away.”
“Hmm,” the Master said thoughtfully, “my son gave you this?” He looked around. “Guard! Where is my son? I need to speak to him!”
“I am sorry Master. He is being sorely punished for this pipsqueak’s sins. I’m afraid there has been a huge mistake made, the whole justice system of your palace justice has been compromised through this person’s deceit. Let us haul him away and give justice without mercy.”
The angry guards grabbed me, but in an instant the Master shouted, “No! Wait!.”
“I cannot judge this person on who he is, but on what ticket he holds. If my son has been punished for this man’s infractions then justice demands I let him go…. Guards! Free this man at once. He is innocent because the ticket says he has always pleased me. As such he must enjoy all the privileges that my son enjoys. In fact consider him as if HE WAS MY SON!”
That last statement echoed throughout the palace. Maids dropped their brooms. Orderlies tripped and fell. Chefs burned the oatmeal. There was a hushed silence in the palace for the space of an hour. No one said a word.
Then guards began to talk. They desired to know more about this mysterious statement. What did the Master just say? “Treat this man as if he were my son?” Then a shout of rejoicing went up to the heavens unlike any heard before or since. He who was guilty had been declared innocent; he that was dirty had been made righteous. And the basis of it all was the greater mystery. The innocent son had willingly took upon himself this man’s punishment. The story never seemed to grow old.
And me?… still in total shock, I stood quietly in wonder, love and praise. Then I heard then heard an old sage in the corner say, “And you know the son has been doing this for years and will continue to do so until the palace is no more.”
So this was common practice in the Master’s palace. I smiled. The Master smiled too and waved me away. “Do whatever you please, my perfect child. You are mine forever. This is the way of my palace.”
With that said, I skipped away in glee, wanting to explore ever nook and cranny of my new home. But before that, I had to find the son. Yes, find him I must. Amen.