A Parable for the Holidays

Two prehistoric men, Gorbag and Khuzdul, are sitting around the fire at the entrance to their cave, enjoying the bounty of the morning’s hunt.

“This mammoth tenderloin is delicious,” says Gorbag.

“Yes, I agree,” says Khuzdul. “It is a gift from Scrod.”

“What is Scrod?” wonders Gorbag, perplexed.

“He is the Creator and Sustainer of all there is,” responds Khuzdul, solemnly.

“I don’t understand,” says Gorbag.

“Well, he created you, and me, and this mammoth,” says Khuzdul, plainly.

“How do you know this?” asks Gorbag.

“I have seen it in a dream; Scrod spoke to me,” offers Khuzdul.

“In a dream?” asks Gorbag, in an incredulous tone. “You mean those things we see when we sleep?”

“Yes,” replies Khuzdul, “where all things are possible, and the dead live on...”

“The dead live on?” asks Gorbag. “How is that possible?”

“I don’t know,” says Khuzdul, “but dreams show us another world - so there must be a life after death.”

“This is most distressing,” says Gorbag. “All sorts of improbable and even impossible things happen in dreams. For instance, sometimes when I awake, I recall that I was flying high above our cave and the steppe and all the world; yet no matter how hard I try, I cannot make myself fly when I am awake.”

Gorbag pauses for a moment, picks a strand of coarse mammoth hair from between his crooked teeth and turns again to Khuzdul.

“Have you seen this ‘Scrod’ when you are awake?”

“No,” replies Khuzdul. “But I’m sure He exists.”

“So,” says Gorbag, “you can’t tell me Scrod exists as surely as you or me, or your beautiful woman, Shagrat - or even your two offspring, Radbug and Othrod?”

“Well, no, not exactly, but - “

“Then why should I believe you?” asks Gorbag, finally.

“Because I believe in Him,” says Khuzdul, “and you should, too.”

“But if I tell you that there is a a group of suckling boars without their mother just over the hill, you would rightly ask me for proof,” says Gorbag.

“Of course!” says Khuzdul.

“And if I told you that rubbing an otherwise poisonous herb on your sabre-toothed tiger wound would heal you perfectly, you would want to know if it’s worked on others,” says Gorbag, “or more likely, you’d want me to try it first.”

“Absolutely!” replies Khuzdul.

“So if you tell me that you believe in this Scrod, you must first show me that he exists,” says Gorbag.

“Why?” asks Khuzdul, indignantly.

“Now don’t get defensive, Khuzdul, I’m just making sure you’re being reasonable; being unreasonable in this world can get you killed,” says Gorbag. “Lions, tigers, and bears - oh my!”

“But isn’t it enough that I’ve seen Him in my dreams, and that I know He exists?” says Khuzdul, with a hint of desperation.

“But how do you know, Khuzdul?” replies Gorbag.

“Well, uh, I, I mean - I’m not sure. I have very powerful feelings whenever I see Him in my dreams,” says Khuzdul. “I feel that it’s all true.”

“I feel a lot of things, Khuzdul,” says Gorbag, “but rarely, if ever, do any of them amount to knowledge.”

The two men paused for a moment, lost in thought, robotically chewing and gnawing on the connective tissue of their whooly mammoth ribs, the hiss and crackle of the fire a comforting backdrop and counterpoint to the brutish and arduous existence of Mesolithic life.

“Don’t worry, Gorbag,” says Khuzdul, “I’ve managed to convince others of our tribe to follow Scrod, marshaling an impressive contingent.”

“Oh?” says Gorbag.

“Scrod appeared to me in another dream,” says Khuzdul. “Tomorrow we will enter a neighboring tribe’s valley and claim it for our own. It is overflowing with all kinds of animals fit for consumption - boars, goats, deer, mammoths - and fruits, nuts and berries sweet to eat, as well as land and fields meet for great events and festivals.”

“Festivals?” asks Gorbag.

“Yes,” says Khuzdul. “We will celebrate Scrod’s faithfulness and the bounty He will provide. We will thank Him for delivering us from our harsh life and questionable ways.”

“At the expense of a neighboring tribe?” asks Gorbag.

“Thus Scrod wills it,” pronounces Khuzdul.

Of the many feelings Gorbag has had, of the many types of fear he’s felt, for the first time he felt a new fear...

And this fear would not dissipate.