A Parable of Fundraising:
The sun seared the flats that stretched off into the alkali distance. Waves of heat shimmered as I sat in
the shade of the concrete blocks. Slowly through the dust appeared a line of figures walking in a single
file line towards the gates of the city. I had watched against them for most of my life. I had worried
they would appear. As they approached I met them before they could reach the city.
“What are your names strangers?” I was unsettled by the cowls that hid their faces. Their long robes
were dusty from their travels, which were ancient.
“My name is Death." said the first. "I have come for the people in the city.”
I knew him. I knew what he offered. I turned to the next traveler that followed in his wake. “What is
your name?”
The voice whispered from behind the hood, “My name is Slavery. I have come for the people in the
city.
I turned to the next stranger. I would know him too.
“My name is Perversion. I have come for the people of the city.”
“Let me guess, I said to the next stranger. "Your name is…Tolerance.” He shook his head no and
gestured to the figure behind. “That is Tolerance, he is my twin. My name is Hate.”
One by one I learned the names of the others. All I have known before. Ignorance, Fear, Blasphemy,
Suicide, Sloth, Lies, Pain, Inebriation, Horror, Evil, Hubris, and finally, last in the line, the most
ancient, the Father of Lies.
“You cannot force your way into the city. I will not let you!” I cried out. I knew what they would do.
I knew what their purpose had been from ancient times. I knew what they would do to the people in
the city. The pain, the horror, the terrible loss of all goodness in the city was coming until the shining
city was reduced to hovels and the upright people to craven figures huddling in filth and sustaining
themselves on the misery of each other.
The Father of Lies turned from the path and walked to my cottage. He sat at the table in the shade
with a view to the gates. “Come, my children. I want you to see this. It happens this way. I enjoy it
greatly.” The hooded figures left the path and found places in the shade. The Fallen One turned to
me. “So, you would stop us from entering the city. Let me assure you. I have never forced my way
anywhere. I will not force my way here. The people in the city will welcome us in with the gates wide
open. They will demand us there. We come because we have an invitation.”
“They won’t invite you,” I said.
“Who is the Father of Lies, now?”
I bent my head in defeat. I knew he wasn't lying. The Family of Pestilence were always invited in.
They came only when invited. “How long will you wait?”
“Not long, I have met you before too, in many guises. You carry the curse of Cassandra. You will tell
of us but no one will listen or believe you. If they do, then we will leave.” He leaned back in my chair
and settled his ancient eyes at the gates. “It would be a first.”
I turned and ran to the city. The guards at the gate leaned against the walls in the heat and took no
notice of my passing. The badge of “Press” on their shields was corroded. I came to the largest
mansion in the city and I knocked at the gate. The owner was a great man known by all.
“What do you want?” came the voice of the majordomo, peering down from the tower.
“I need your master’s help to spread the word; the ancient plagues are here and would enter the city!”
“Why is it his problem? He has all he will ever need. What can the plagues do to him?”
I pounded my fist on his gate. “When the whole city around him is gone, he will look out of his fine
estate and find himself alone!”
The majordomo sighed at the inconvenience. “I’ll let him know, wait here.”
I stood in the road and waited…and waited. Finally I beat on the gate again. The majordomo finally
came to the top of the wall. “Are you still here? I forgot about you. Can't you take a hint? The master
said he gives to efforts to stem the ancient plagues. You don’t have any approved method by the
council of elders or any friends of the master. No one knows you, you have no social standing. Go
away.”
Frustrated I ran to the next estate and the same thing happened. Up and down the lanes of the great
estates and businesses I ran. Faintly I could hear the laughter of the Father of Lies in the distance and
could feel the mark of the Curse of Cassandra. I spoke and no one believed. I spoke and no one
listened.
As the darkness came on the city I ran back to the city gates. In the fading light there were fewer
figures around my cottage. That means there were already some in the city. None of the famous, the
rich, the important, helped in stopping their entry. Many had actually met the figures at the city gates
and bowed, ushering them in with the guards’ approval.
Finally, I could hear the movement of the figures in the city. I could hear them by the passing strife
they sowed. Other hooded figures drew closer to the gates. Only the one most ancient figure sat,
watching from my chair.
I turned from the gates and came to the market place. There I saw the working people of the city in all
their forms. Wearily I lifted up my voice again; fully aware of the Curse of Cassandra the Father of
Lies had seen on me so clearly. And, I began to speak………….