Upright living

My day started like the previous thousand before. How did I know that it was a new day? Well, that’s what they told me. We have clocks and calendars and some of the most advanced scientific theories to make sure that every hour will be used in fruitful labour for the Dark Lord. Of course, there’s no sun that rises to brighten our morning, or moon that shines by night – just an eternal state of darkness here in the caves.

It’s been this way as long as anyone can remember. A few of the elders have been enslaved for over 100 years. When they were children, they asked the older workers and heard the same thing: The caves have existed for thousands of generations. We are all forced to cut, pick and claw at the rocks – gleaning jewels for the Dark Lord. No exceptions.

The Dark Lord, however, is not some overpowering slave driver – at least, not in the traditional sense. His primary strategy is not power, but deception. He knows that someone forced into slavery will work tirelessly when you’re watching but will do just enough to get by when you turn your back. But someone who is deceived into slavery, that’s entirely different. That’s a worker who is a fool, but a fool for you. I guess we’re all fools down here. We get up every day and begin our work. We have different tasks – some cut the rock, others carry it from cave to cave, still others are lucky enough to supervise the labour of the rest, but we’re all enslaved. We’ve even created theories and schools on how to extract the greatest percentage of minerals. For a race of ignorant cave dwellers, we’re really quite advanced – if that makes any sense.

No one seems to realize that the net result of all this is the same: We eventually die, and the Dark Lord takes his reward. Of course, when we’re dead, he doesn’t have to force it from us – he simply kneels down and peels it from our cold, limp hands. It’s too easy.

There’s no waste, no inefficiency. Even our dead bodies decay into the ground and become the rocks that others will mine in the future, adding momentum to the vicious cycle of destruction that rolls on forever. It’s all a grand design of the Dark Lord for his maximum pleasure. Few question it. Still fewer challenge it. After all, it’s always been this way.

And that’s exactly how it was when my day started this morning. I woke up early to get a head start. A group of us were meeting to discuss a possible merger with another group of cave dwellers. This had the potential of efficiencies through which we could glean even more jewels from the rock. The thought even gave me a sort of cheap thrill when I woke up. That’s about all one can look forward to down here.

I rose from the cold ground and quickly glanced at my leg. I nodded. The chains were still attached. All those dreams I had had during the night we’re just that: dreams. Even though I could see green fields and feel the warm sun against my skin just a few minutes earlier, I knew that my reality was much different. So I let those thoughts fade as I hurried off to work. After all, I was running late.

But that’s when my typical day took an untypical turn. As I started to leave, a light danced in the distance. Sure, it was only a flicker, perhaps the size of a match, but when you live in eternal darkness, even a match can be seen miles away. I had seen the light several times before, but every time the voice of the Dark Lord would ring in my ears, reminding me of the tasks I had for the day. It seemed I was always running behind. Even a few moments to explore the light was always too much for me.

This time was no exception. The Dark Lord spoke clearly in my mind and urged me back to work. Once again, this wasn’t a voice that forced me to work; rather, it merely reminded me of how important my group meeting was. It said, “You have seen that light once before, and you will see it again later.

Tomorrow will be a perfect day to explore it. But today is an exception. Today you have an important group meeting.”

It didn’t strike me as odd that he had used this exact argument two weeks previously, and two weeks before that. It was always the promise of “time tomorrow”. He was even kind enough to bless me with even more opportunities whenever I obeyed his urgings. I was lucky to have more jewels than most. But “tomorrow” never came.

Like countless times before, this clever deception was enough to convince me to get moving. I turned away from the light to walk away. You may think me a fool, but I bet if you were in my situation, you’d do the same. In fact, you may be doing the exact same thing at this moment.

The difference this time, and the only reason I’m writing my story, is that I heard another voice speak to me just before I took a step away. This voice was entirely different from the Dark Lord’s. It contained conviction, yet held no guilt. It was challenging, yet loving. It said, “You have been thankful that you have been blessed with so much, but you should be weeping.” I knew it came from the direction of the light. That voice is the one that is now speaking to you.

The Dark Lord, of course, told me to think about the words later, when I had “more time”. But for some reason I refused to listen. Perhaps it was the dream I had had the night before. Perhaps it was a longing for something, anything, that was better than the inescapable blackness I felt in my soul. Perhaps you should do the same thing.

I turned back to the light. It brightened. The voice from within it continued, “Deception, not power, is the first tactic of the Dark Lord.”

As I thought about the words, the light hovered toward me and continued to brighten. For the first time in my life, I could clearly make out what my world consisted of. The voice was right: It was slavery built on illusion. I saw the frail, malnourished workers relentlessly picking at the cave – much like a man who was buried alive would do to his casket. I looked at the cold, damp walls that pressed in and forced us to hunch over. I watched the frenzied rats gorge themselves on the dead bodies that were piled all around me. This was hell’s toilet – its sewer system. It’s where all the excrement from our demons is flushed. And it had all seemed so “normal” just a few minutes earlier.

I turned back to the light. Although it hurt my eyes, it contained more beauty and peace than words can describe. Within it, love radiated outward and touched a nerve inside of me that I had never known existed before. My dreams of the previous night seemed shallow in comparison. The voice of the Dark Lord was now a faded memory, and I lifted my foot to step toward the light.

Suddenly, I felt a tug at my ankles. I dropped onto the rocky ground with a thud and could not rise. Slowly, yet consistently, the tugging continued, and I knew I was being pulled down to the deep dungeons of the caves, my body sliced open by the jagged stones that made up the floor.

I looked down. The rusted, steel chain around my legs constricted tighter, and my ankles swelled in pain. The pull was easily stronger than I was. I panicked. I turned from the light and grabbed the chain. Screaming loudly, I pulled on it, beat on it and even hit it against the cave walls. It was useless. The chain dragged me toward the darkness as the chants of the workers and the stench of the caves overwhelmed me.

Eventually, I gave one last look back at the light that had dimmed considerably. I heard in a whisper, “When deception fails, power is the last tactic.”

“Help me!” I screamed.

Immediately, I saw another cave dweller standing above me. He held keys in his right hand and a lantern in his left. He smiled and unlocked my chains. They rattled as they hit the floor and then quickly descended into the darkness. I squinted from the intense light of the lamp as I looked up at the man.

He said, “Two wise choices is all it takes.”

I was confused.

He continued, “First, you used my light to see the deception around you. Second, you acknowledged your inability to break free of it. You asked for help.”

“Who . . . who are you?” I asked, shaking.

“I am not of this world. I have created another place where it is bright, open and free. There are no low ceilings there. You don’t have to live in a place where you are perpetually bent over. I will teach you how to live upright.”

“Upright living? That’s impossible. It’ll break my back! This is how I’ve always lived.”

“I don’t claim it will be easy. It will hurt terribly at first. You’ll have to use The Cross to straighten up. But, given time, you’ll learn to live upright. Please believe me, you won’t regret it.”

“A land without ceilings? Nothing above my head holding me down?”

“Just the heavens,” he replied.

“Heaven.” I smiled. “I’ve dreamed of such a place.”

“Stop dreaming it. Start living it.”

I looked up at his warm face.

“Follow me.”

“But you – you look no different from me. How can you talk of such a place when you are hunched over yourself?”

“If you saw me as I really am, you would be terrified. I contain so much light that you would be overwhelmed. I have made myself like you so that you can relate to me.”

He paused.

“But if you follow me, I will lead you out of the caves. You will begin to see me as I really am. I will take you to the Land of Light.”

“Land of Light?”

“It’s a world where the Son lights your way. It’s a land where you are free to run through the fields, climb the mountains and swim in the rivers.”

I shook my head. “But all that light – won’t that kill me? I have lived here my entire life.”

He looked down. “Yes, you will die.”

I gulped. We sat in silence for a few moments.

He looked back at me and placed his hands on top of mine. “But I will give you a new life. I will teach you how to walk upright. I will show you how to live in the light. You’ll never die again.”

His hands moved off mine, and he held them out for me to grab. I glanced at them. They were horribly scarred. Appalled, I looked up, and our eyes locked.

“The Dark Lord wanted to enslave me, too. He nailed me to the wall.”

I shook my head and winced as I touched the scars. He winced as well.

“You broke free?”

He nodded. “I rose out of the Underworld. I ascended to the Land of the Light. That’s where I want to take you.”

Once again, I studied his hands. They seemed to say just as much as his words did. Written on them were messages of freedom, love and sacrifice.

I placed my hands firmly in his. I held on tight and never let go.

And neither has he.

Maxwell Bloeser is an author and computer consultant from Seattle, Wash.