The house on a hill

advent

Some stories have the power to take us beyond words and break us open to new awareness.

We call such stories parables because the telling sits on layers of deeper meaning, much of which cannot be put into language.

Not all parables are in sacred scripture, but they can become sacred with reflection.

I like an old Japanese fable about a man who lived alone in a house on a hill.

The man grew apple trees, and in season would take baskets of apples to the people who lived in the village below.

It was a small village, a few houses huddled between the sea and the hill. The man knew everyone who lived there, and sometimes would sit in front of his house, watching his friends.

Then came the day of the big earthquake.  The hill shook, the man’s wooden house rattled and groaned, and apples rained down from the trees.

The quake was over in less than a minute. but the man knew worse was to come.

He tried to yell a warning to the village, but the people didn’t hear him. They were too busy sorting the damage caused by the quake.

The man beat an empty tin drum with a stick. It made a lot of noise, but still no one down there, noticed.

There was not time to run down the hill and warn the villagers.  Only one option was left.

The man’s house was made of fine cherry wood. He had built it himself and it was much admired.

He set fire to it.

When the villagers saw the smoke and flames, they ran up the hill to help the apple grower. They were very surprised to learn he had deliberately lit the fire. “He must be mad!” they said. “Living on his own has made him crazy.”

Someone looked down and saw a great swell of water coming towards the shore. The tsunami caused by the earthquake swamped the entire village.

Water covered the rooftops and came halfway up the hill.

Then the people understood what had happened.

The apple man had destroyed his house to save his friends.

It’s a good story. We can sit quietly with it and look at the times we have needed to sacrifice something precious to us, to serve the greater good.

This tension between self and other,  causes pain.

But we’ve all been called to do it.  It can be somethings as small as a desire put aside for rightness of living, or as big as personal ambition abandoned for another’s welfare.

Such sacrifice is never easy, but when it’s done, we make a remarkable discovery.

It hasn’t been about personal loss. It’s about gain. Somehow, part of who we are, has grown bigger.

From that reflection, we can go with the story to an even deeper level.

We know who the apple grower really is. We have always known him.  And perhaps we can call that hill Golgotha.

  • Joy Cowley is a wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother and retreat facilitator.
  • Image: Stuff
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