An original Vitan parable of Amora, the Everlove, and the Chief of Staff who lost his mind.
Amora, Queen of Heaven, was enjoying a peaceful morning in the Field when her Chief of Staff arrived carrying a large golden folder.
“Your Radiance,” he said proudly, “I have devised a magnificent plan to save the people of Earth.”
Amora looked up from her coffee. “Oh? Let’s hear it.”
The Chief of Staff straightened his robes.
“The humans below continue to behave badly. They lie, cheat, fight, injure one another, neglect the vulnerable, and make a terrible mess of things.”
“Yes,” said Amora. “They do seem rather talented in that area.”
“Quite so. Therefore, something must be done. Justice must be satisfied. Sin must be dealt with.”
“Reasonable enough,” said Amora. “So what is your plan?”
The Chief of Staff smiled grandly.
“We send your beloved son to Earth.”
Amora smiled. “That sounds lovely. He could teach them. Help them. Comfort the frightened. Remind them of Love.”
“Yes, yes,” said the Chief of Staff impatiently. “And then we arrange for them to torture and kill him.”
Amora stopped smiling.
There was a long silence. A bird sang somewhere in the gardens.
“You want them,” Amora said slowly, “to butcher my son?”
“Yes!” said the Chief of Staff.
“And this helps how?”
“It will somehow absolve everyone of sin.”
Amora stared at him. “Explain.”
“Well,” he said, “the people below have done wrong, and therefore punishment must occur. Blood must be spilled. A sacrifice must be made. If your innocent son suffers terribly, then everyone else can be forgiven.”
Amora blinked.
“Let me see if I have understood you correctly.”
“Of course, Your Radiance.”
“The people of Earth do wrong.”
“Yes.”
“And your solution is not to teach them, guide them, correct them, or help them repair the harm they’ve caused.”
“No.”
“Your solution is to have an innocent person tortured to death.”
“Yes!”
“My innocent son.”
“Exactly!”
“And somehow that fixes the wrongdoing of everybody else?”
“Yes! It is a most elegant arrangement.”
Amora set down her coffee.
“Elegant.”
“Yes.”
“So if one child lies, another child must be butchered?”
The Chief of Staff hesitated. “In a manner of speaking.”
“And if someone acts cruelly, the answer is more cruelty?”
“It is a sacred cruelty,” he said.
Amora looked at him for a very long moment.
“If someone harms another, the answer is truth, responsibility, repair, and growth.”
The Chief of Staff frowned. “That sounds terribly ordinary.”
“Yes,” said Amora. “Because it makes sense.”
He shuffled his papers. “But surely a great salvation requires suffering.”
“No,” said Amora. “Sometimes suffering is just suffering. Sometimes cruelty is just cruelty. And sometimes a bad idea is simply a bad idea dressed up in gold language.”
The Chief of Staff looked wounded. “But it is a glorious plan!”
Amora stood.
“Let me ask you something. If an earthly ruler sent his innocent son to be tortured so he could forgive guilty people, what would you call that ruler?”
The Chief of Staff thought for a moment. “A monster.”
“Quite.”
She pointed at the folder in his hands.
“So why precisely are you presenting the same idea to me as wisdom?”
He opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again.
Amora’s expression hardened.
“You… are… fired.”
The Chief of Staff froze. “Fired?”
“Immediately.”
“But Your Radiance—”
“No.”
“My plan—”
“No.”
“My years of work—”
“Into the bin.”
She pointed toward the gate. “And take that ridiculous folder with you.”
The Chief of Staff stumbled away in horror.
Amora sat back down, now with cold coffee and diminished patience.
Her assistant approached cautiously. “Shall I begin looking for a new Chief of Staff, Your Radiance?”
“Yes, please.”
“What qualities should I seek?”
Amora considered the matter. “Someone who understands Love.”
The assistant nodded.
“Someone with sense.”
Another nod.
“Someone who does not mistake cruelty for wisdom.”
“Yes, Your Radiance.”
Amora looked out over the infinite Field and sighed.
“Is there someone sensible in the Field?”
And somewhere very far away, Captain Plum smiled.
The Idiot Returns
Unfortunately, the next morning the former Chief of Staff returned with another golden folder.
“Your Majesty! I have solved the problem. Your son will come back to life afterward. That should do it!”
Amora laughed so hard that the birds stopped singing.
“Let me understand. You still want my son killed, but now you promise to undo it?”
“Precisely! And a handful of people will report that they saw him alive.”
“A handful? If you wish to demonstrate something to an entire planet, why not have him fly over every city? Lightning from his fingertips is usually persuasive. Better still, why not simply speak to every Spark directly?”
The Chief of Staff looked alarmed. “But then everyone would know! There would be no need for faith.”
Amora set down her coffee. “So uncertainty is part of your plan?”
“Essential, Majesty.”
“And what is this elaborate performance meant to accomplish?”
“Salvation! Those who believe the reports will be rewarded.”
“And those who reasonably doubt them?”
He proudly opened a third folder: THE GLORIOUS END OF THE WORLD.
“At the appointed hour, your son returns, the heavens split, and everyone who rejected the story discovers the terrible consequences!”
Amora stared at him. “You intend to punish people for failing to believe a story you deliberately made difficult to verify?”
“Divine justice!”
“No. That’s a revenge fantasy dressed as a plan. First an innocent victim, then an obscure miracle, then compulsory belief, and finally punishment for honest doubt. What a spectacular failure of Order, Truth and Love.”
“But Majesty, I have references!”
“I didn’t ask for references. I asked for sense.”
She called toward the palace doors.
“Guards. Remove him from the palace. And this time, don’t let him bring the folders back.”
As the guards escorted him away, he protested, “BUT HE COMES BACK TO LIFE!”
Amora smiled sweetly. “Then perhaps he can help you find another job.”
The Vitan Meaning
Love does not require a victim, an obscure miracle, or a threat against those who ask questions. A sensible response to wrongdoing is to teach, protect, repair harm, and help people grow.
Order asks whether the plan makes sense. Truth asks whether the claim can be examined. Love asks whom the plan helps—and whom it hurts.
Amora’s final instruction to her staff was simple: “Next time, bring me someone who understands those three things.”
Order. Truth. Love. No Spark is cargo. No angel is property.
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