Naked and Clothed In Preoccupation

The following is a modern-day parable taken from my book Resolve.

They walked down the ramp single file, nothing in their hands nor on their persons. When they reached the end of the ramp, they were given a bundle of supplies, which included clothes, currency, and an instruction manual. 

It was the first time any of these voyagers had been to this remote island. Surprisingly, no one questioned the destination or their reason for being there. They just gathered up their possessions (some had been given more than others) and went on their way to enjoy and develop their piece of the island. In addition to the written manual, a verbal notice was broadcast over speakers: “This is not your final home. You will be asked to return to the boat at any moment, so be ready at all times. You cannot take anything back with you from this island. Read your manual!” 

Regrettably, few paid attention in their rush to get down to business and claim their territory before it was taken. The voice over the speakers faded as the people scurried off. The notice was repeated in the instruction manual, but many of the manuals were left scattered along the paths like discarded litter. All that seemed to matter was their place on the island, not why they were there in the first place.

In time, the island was a hub of activity. The busyness of their lives took precedence over any desire they might have had for reflective thinking. With so much to do and additional sections of the island to develop, there was no place for thoughtful introspection. Some built gigantic homes, while others could only afford the essentials, doing well just to have a roof over their head.

A small handful of island dwellers had embraced the verbal notice and guarded their manuals with their lives. This group was in no hurry to stake their claim on the island; rather they were driven by the purpose they discovered in the manual. These manual lovers formed a group and would meet often to review the manual, constantly discovering more of the purpose for their stint on the island. They read about how the island was under surveillance and how they would one day be accountable for the implementation of the clear instructions in the manual. They would be graded not for how much they had gained but for how much they had given to and cared for those who were hungry and hurting on the island. Some in this group would run around the island, warning others to read their manual. Most who heard would laugh and say things like, “Ha! That old, outdated thing? You need to get to work and stop wasting time.”

So the hustle and bustle continued without pause—until it was a dweller’s time to return to the boat, just as the manual had warned. A tap on the shoulder would signal to the (usually oblivious, preoccupied) dweller that it was time to go. He was then escorted back to the boat with nothing allowed in hand, often protesting the entire way, “This is a big mistake. Can’t you see I was in the middle of something really important? You tapped the wrong person!” His protesting was disregarded by the soldiers on either side as they moved slowly and deliberately toward the boat. At the boat, the dweller was stripped to nothing and was walked up the long ramp he had previously descended. He passed an eager youth hustling down, whose eyes were running to and fro, taking in the views and anxiously anticipating his allotment at the ramp’s end. This time, the dweller clearly heard the notice that had eluded his focus so many years earlier. “This is not your final home. You will be asked to return to the boat at any moment, so be ready at all times. You cannot take anything back with you from this island. Read your manual!”

Reality had sunk in while time had run out. What he wouldn’t give for even a peek at the manual now and one more day to apply it. He knew it held the key and purpose for his time on the island. But it was too late now for introspection. He was ushered into a dim room. Sounds came from one end while the opposite end was lit up in bright white. A film started rolling. It was a film of this dweller’s life and of his time spent on the island. He watched in horror, seeing how he lived for himself in every way, every day. The manual lay on the shelf in his room. His eagerness to make his own way on the island caused him to ignore the manual every day, right up to the end. 

Everyone comes naked from their mother’s womb, and as everyone comes, so they depart. They take nothing from their toil that they can carry in their hands. (Eccl. 5:15)

Just as people are destined to die once, and after that to face judgment . . . (Heb. 9:27)