“Before you is a box and key,” the tribunal inquisitor said to the newest ten initiates, “You’re to keep both with you at all times. Guard your box with your life. Do not unlock it, open it or even look in it. Those are your instructions. The Great Society shall see you again in 40 days.”
On the fortieth day, the ten gathered before the tribunal, each with their box in hand. Nine of them were dismissed immediately, which left the tenth initiate confused as he had violated all the rules given him regarding entrusting of the box.
The greatest infraction was having unlocked, opened and the looking inside of the box.
“Were you disappointed?” asked the inquisitor.
“At first,” answered the initiate, “But after some reasoning I realized that the hand-hewn stone is meant to convey a meaning and I understand that meaning to be ‘foundation.’
“That is correct, but why did you open the box in the first place?”
“Curiosity. I needed to know what was so important that I was told to guard it with my life.”
“And did you think it was worth it, guarding it with your life, I mean?”
“No.”
“And why is that?”
“It is merely a symbol of something that can actually be torn down and reformed again.”
“That’s an interesting observation. So any other thoughts regarding what you found in the box?”
“Yes, imagination.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I used my imagination to unlock it’s final truth.”
“And that would be?”
“You rely far too much on man and not enough on God,” the initiate returned.
“Very good!” the inquisitor exclaimed, “Now that we have put your membership to a test, we shall put the same to a vote.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
“Why?”
“Because you have nothing more to offer me.”
“That is quite insulting, sir!” the inquisitor exclaimed.
“Perhaps,” the initiate countered, “But what beyond ‘curiosity,’ ‘reasoning,’ and ‘imagination,’ can you offer me in your Great Society? A place? Position? Wealth? Those things I can find for myself.”
The chamber remained stunned and silent as their would-be initiate walked from it.
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