Three Parables

John Janzen

Constantine’s Conversion

The Emperor Constantine, facing the biggest battle of his reign, looked into the setting sun at the Lilvian Bridge and saw a vision of the cross of Christ. As he gazed at the cross he heard a voice say “By this sign, conquer.” 

The next day he gave up his reign as emperor, surrendered all his many possessions, and went to live and work among the poor.
And forever after he was known as one of the greatest heroes of the faith for his obedience to the voice of God.

The Wall

The teacher came to a village of affluent people living on the other side of an ancient wall from the very poor, people who they desired to help. They felt terrible that they couldn’t help the people on the other side because they could hear their cries for help, but nothing could be done to get over the huge wall. 

So the teacher left with them a considerable sum of money saying, “I give you this because I know how you wanted to help those on the other side, but didn’t quite have the means. Use it to relieve the suffering that poverty has brought here.”

The people built a huge system of ladders and tunnels so that they could get food and medicine to those living on the other side of the wall. Though there were still problems, they were happy that their efforts resulted in a considerable raising of the standard of living of the people on the other side.

This being the case, they were shocked at how disappointed the teacher was with them upon returning to see what they had done with the money.

“Why?” they asked, “Look at all the suffering we have helped alleviate!”

The teacher responded, “I gave you that money so you could tear down the wall. In doing it this way, you have only alleviated suffering on one side of the wall.”

The Final Judgment

When I opened my eyes I realized that I was there, at the Final Judgment. What struck me first is that it played out exactly as I had always imagined—a dazzling, all-encompassing light that was irresistible in its attraction. It was kindness, and goodness, and love, but in a perfected way—a pure experience that I had only tasted hints of in my lifetime. 

But as I moved toward it I noticed a commotion. A man was on his knees sobbing, his body heaving with sadness. To my shock, I could see plainly that the man before me was Adolf Hitler himself, crumpled on the floor, refusing to move any nearer to the light. Between his sobs he could be heard begging for a return to his earthly existence, for a second chance to live his life over. “What have I done, what have I done,” came the mournful repetition. 

I assumed that he was facing the terror of his coming punishment in hell, so I asked one of the others there when he would be taken away from this perfect place. The answer that came revealed my lack of understanding. “He won’t be taken from this place—that is just the reason for his sorrow. All come from the Light, and all go back to it. He has been told that all is forgiven, and that he is welcome to go forward into the banquet. It is by his own will that he stays where he is.”

—John Janzen, Nagoya, Japan, lives with his family in Japan where he works at a university. In completing his graduate degree on C. S. Lewis, he got hooked on myth and story as perhaps the most powerfully effective vehicles for thinking morally. This led to trying his own hand at writing parables and allegories. He hails from Winnipeg, Manitoba, but left because the sushi didn’t meet his standards.