The Keimathea Chronicles - A Christian Worldview Parable
Part 3 - After the Fall, Hints of Redemption
We return to the Korrupted Kingdom of Keimathea – once a realm of undisturbed peace and prosperity, protected from darkness and harm by the sovereign rule of King Ma’alekei the wise. After Joronae’s treacherous theft of the royal diadem, however, all was no longer well in Keimathea. Ma’alekei continued to shower his blessings upon the people, freely bestowing upon them all that they could need and want—food, shelter, music, books, entertainment—even NHL hockey. But, just as Joronae had coveted the king’s crown, so too now his fellow Keimatheans began to focus, not on the Great King who had blessed them, nor the good things with which he had blessed them—no, instead, the citizens of the Kingdom were no longer content with what they had. They each and all noticed the good things that others had, and began to desire and seek those good things in addition to their rightful gifts. The desire for others’ good things led to theft, violence, even murder, as Keimatheans opposed and hated one another in their pursuit of what they thought would complete their lives.
As Joronae’s disease spread throughout the Kingdom, King Ma’alekei’s banquet hall grew progressively emptier. The palace guards, who previously simply smiled at arriving guests, began turning people away at the door—their hearts were no longer pure. They had become corrupt, and thus were denied entry to the King’s banquet table. After a few years, not a single Keimathean was to be seen inside the walls of the royal palace. King Ma’alekei dined alone, accompanied only by his faithful guards and palace servants.
The King continued to walk among his subjects, showing them his royal love in the fields, markets, forests, mountains, lakes, workshops. He even visited the dens of iniquity that were showing up throughout the realm, in an attempt to reassure his subjects of his continued love. But increasingly, his subjects did not even recognize him. They wondered, to themselves and out loud, who this arrogant old man was, proclaiming his love for them in the midst of their misery. If he really was a king, and if he really did love them, surely he would have done more for them, ensured that they lived in prosperity and peace. If the kingdom reflected the reign of the king, the king was surely doing a lousy job of governing.
And yet there were a few Keimatheans who heard the king’s voice in his travels through the realm. When he spoke, they realized he spoke truly. When he gazed upon them, they recognized the authentic love he displayed. They turned their gaze inward, and saw how diseased they had become, how unworthy of royal love and favor they were. They were ashamed, and begged the King to leave their presence. Yet Ma’alekei lingered with those subjects, and as those Keimatheans allowed the king’s truth to permeate their souls, their hearts were strangely warmed, and they began to long for nothing more (or less) than to be in the presence of their king, accepting his gracious gifts of abundance and plenty, and to dine once again, as they heard their ancestors had done once upon a time, in the banquet hall of the great and wise King.
Ma’alekei assured these subjects, whose hearts had been renewed, that they would be most welcome at his table, and gave them directions to the palace. Some of those subjects became distracted along the path—their attention drawn by sideshows and other Keimathean diversions. Some lost their nerve as they traveled toward the palace—worried that their fellow citizens might attack and overpower them if they found out where they were headed. But others, increasingly many, drawn by the undeniable goodness and wisdom of King Ma’alekei, persevered and found their way to the royal palace.
As they passed through the outer gate of the palace grounds, the atmosphere around them changed utterly. The colors became more vibrant, brighter, stronger. The air was fresher, purer, more breathable. The songs of the birds were sharper, more melodic. And, though it took a few moments to realize it, the Keimatheans who passed into the palace courtyard found themselves noticeably lighter. The tendrils of strangling desire and distraction had dissipated; they felt palpable weights lift from their shoulders.
Coming to the main entrance of the castle, these Keimatheans, often tentative, timid, unsure—afraid they might be turned back even now from the great and good King’s table—were surveyed by the smiling palace guards, who ushered them into the King’s banquet hall.