Saturday, 4 September 2010

The wolf's priest tale

Once upon a time in a land far away from everywhere, there lived a big nasty wolf. This wolf was keen to break into the houses of all the priests of that place and so he set about systematically attacking their defences.

The first priest had built himself a house of beautiful faux-baroque splendour. The house had a good lock on its door, but the lock was rarely used. The priest was so busy showing people round his home, boasting about this and that, that all the wolf had to do was enter through the front door with the hoards of drooling sycophants.

The second priest had built himself a home of noble simplicity. It was a good home but there was only a plain latch on the door. The priest himself was rarely at home. The wolf let himself in and found the house was a little too cluttered with junk from the sixties for his liking. When the priest returned, the wolf said to him “Oh my what a stupid priest you are!”. The priest replied “Oh my, what a stupid wolf you are!”.

The third priest had found a disused home of some antiquity. He lovingly restored it to exact specifications, taking care to make sure nothing was out of place. His attention to detail meant that others mocked him, for he seemed to do everything at a plod like a country policeman, lacking humour and lacking flexibility. When the wolf arrived here he found several other wolves all with the same idea. None of them could get in, though they could all smell blood (for the priest was carrying many wounds) and it was driving them crazy.

The fourth priest was busy busy busy, he had all the latest security gadgets and was pleased with his home which he constantly updated. Unfortunately, in his hurry he left an upstairs window open. The wolf came to visit him one night with terrible ferocity.

The fifth priest was very ill, much more ill than he ever let on to anyone. Everybody loved him and he took great pleasure in being with people. He was a wise fellow but when his illness flared up he found himself in great need to distractions and liked to socialise to take his mind off things. The wolf found him a hard case to crack, indeed his house seemed a veritable fortress. Then the wolf spied some of his “friends”, ladies who liked to be seen with their “trophy priest”. The priest was fighting for their souls, but they were more keen on shallow intellectual discourse and free flowing Chablis. The wolf decided to work on the ladies, it would certainly exhaust the priest, if not break him entirely.

In the same town was a young man who knew God was calling him to be a priest. The young man just couldn’t understand why he felt so alone and why none of the priests (all of whom he had served for as an altar boy) were able to offer paternal support and freely let him enter under their roofs. The wolf saw this as his finest victory.

2 comments:

Robert B. Heath said...

Amazing stories! Very perceptive.

Thanks for being so thought-provoking.

mum6kids said...

Very good.
Very sad because it's true.
It's a rare shepherd who can take care of wondering sheep, tend the lambs and the sick ewes and keep the wolves at bay- all alone.