“I’m not sure.”
“Why are you not sure?”
“I do not know enough about why the one who was expelled did what he did.”
“And why must you know that?”
“To determine his….”
“Motives?”
“I believe so, yes.”
“In the story that I told, his motives are both obvious and irrelevant. I mentioned earlier that a village will gather around a citizen who is wounded or sick. They will protect him and help him until he recovers. This is also true with many pack animals. Except that, almost without exception, when it becomes obvious that the sick member will not soon recover, they will move on and leave him to die. Mankind, for the most part, throughout its history, has protected and nurtured the sick until the eventuality of death. However, in the earlier story, I described the family that the village helped as one who had contributed up to the point of the disaster. In this story, the slacker decided to stop contributing. No calamity befell him. No illness affected his ability. He simply decided not to live up to his part of the bargain.
“Living in any society is an implied contract. Society will provide you with security, roads, water, and a multitude of miscellaneous infrastructure that any individual could not provide for himself. Society will also provide an environment that recognizes the realities of human nature and facilitates the individual’s ability to contribute. That, by the way, is the part of the principle that Marx never did understand. In exchange for all that society provides, the members shall contribute. They shall partake in the education that is provided and excel within that framework to the best of their abilities. They shall seek a vocation and devote substantial energy to that vocation. They shall marry and have children. And when they have children, they shall pour every ounce of their love and energy and wisdom into each child they bear, to ensure that the child also grows to be a good citizen. When they have done all of that, they have fulfilled their obligation to society.
“It has taken a very long time to answer your question, at least partially. It is the obligation of the citizens to contribute to the perpetuation of society, which includes performing all of the tasks within their power. It is the obligation of society to provide those things that are beyond the power of the individual. Is obtaining a home for your family beyond your power?”
“Perhaps for some.”
“I will clarify my question. Is obtaining a home for your family beyond the power of a member of society who has contributed, as I described earlier, throughout his or her life?”
“No.”
“Then, is it the role of society to provide one?”
“I’d have to say ‘no.’ Yet, this all sounds so cold. Are we not to lend a hand? Is it not part of human nature to help the helpless?”
“You are to lend a hand. You are to help the helpless, if they are truly needy. Did you and Claire hesitate when Melissa’s friend Sarah needed help?”
Reese, still not accustomed to the depth of Elohim’s insights, was again startled. “No. We did not hesitate.”
“Of course you didn’t. When members of your society have misfortune descend upon them, you and all like you will be quick to assist. That is good…that is noble…and that is one of the best parts of human nature. But when misfortune becomes institutionalized and conveying neediness becomes a practiced skill, ‘lending a hand,’ as you put it, becomes wrong.
“Have you studied Pavlov?”
“Of course.”
“What did you learn from Pavlov?”
“That behavior which is rewarded is repeated.”
“Precisely. If I were walking down the street and witnessed a small boy punching his sister, then approached the lad and offered him a dollar for each additional punch, would he stop hitting her? Reese, do you think there is a reasonable person on Earth who does not know that if you want people to stop behaviors, you punish them…if you want behaviors to continue, you reward them?”
“Probably not.”
“If people, as a result of the choices they have made, have no money, no job, and no credit, should they be rewarded for this life they have created?”
“I would say not.”
“There, finally, are the answers to your questions.”
“What should society do, expel them?”
“In my example of the small ancient society, there was a place to banish them. There was unclaimed territory for the taking. Those who were expelled could begin their own society, and there were times that the lesson learned was sufficient; the outcasts created a society that thrived, even surpassed their former group. Today the Earth is completely covered with geopolitical territories. You cannot expel people from your society without exiling them to another and that, generally speaking, is not an acceptable solution.”
“Again I ask, what should a society do?”
“If you were the parent of a child who stole cash, would you solve the problem by giving the child money?”
“No.”
“If you were the husband of an alcoholic, would you help your wife solve her problem by giving her a case of whiskey?”
“No.”
“If you were a teacher who caught a student cheating on a test, would you give the student an ‘A’?”
“No.”
“Why would you not do any of these things?”
“Because, as we discussed, it would reward bad behavior.”
“Then, Reese, would you have an established policy to deal with students who cheated?”
“I would expel them.”
“If we are to utilize this analogy to discover the best course of action for our homeless family, expulsion, as we discussed, is not an option.”
“I would penalize them with failing grades. I would provide them with a stringent regime of work that they must produce if they were to graduate. I would monitor them more closely than the other students.”
“And if they failed to produce the required work?”
“They would be failed.”
“But, Reese, what if they had come from disadvantaged homes? What if they had been abused as children? What if they were obviously malnourished?”
“I would send them to the campus psychologist for counseling, to the campus clinic for checkups and supplements. I would arrange for them to have access to meals. Perhaps I would even organize a group of the excellent students to help them, to mentor them and provide positive peer pressure.”
“And after all of that, what if they still did not produce the required work?”
“They would receive failing grades.”
“But why? Perhaps they were doing the best that they could.”
“They must fail; otherwise, the grades received by the others would have no value.”
“That may be true, but it is too abstract a concept for most. In fact, as long as the other students in the class received their earned grades, most would not care what you gave to the delinquent students. Suppose you announced to the class that because the failing students, for whom you and many of the others in the class had attempted to provide help, were somehow disadvantaged, it wasn’t their fault they couldn’t earn passing grades. To remedy this, you decided to lower all of the passing grades somewhat and give the accumulated points to the delinquents, so the ‘A’ student might receive a ‘B.’ How would the class react?”
“There would be a revolt, figuratively speaking. The vast majority of students jealously guard the grades they have earned. They would believe that they had chosen to work hard and earn their grades, and that those grades were theirs alone.”
“But wouldn’t they understand that the delinquent students needed help?”
“They wouldn’t care. They would be much harsher than I.”
“Aren’t these the same students who believe in a state that provides welfare?”
“Very much so.”
“Would they not understand that taking away a part of their hard-earned grades so that it might be distributed to t
hose most needy would be the same as taking away a portion of their hard-earned salaries to support those who chose not to work?”
“I don’t believe they would make the connection.”
“As long as we are utilizing the thought experiment, I have another for you.”
“All right.”
“What would happen if at the beginning of this school year you announced that you would provide assignments, papers to write, workbooks to complete, and final exams – all of these things to be graded as they normally would. However, at the end of the semester, you would add all of the grades together, divide them by the number of students in the class, and give all students this average grade?”
“Many of them would drop the class.”
“Which ones would drop it?”
“The best students, the students who expected to get an ‘A.’”
“Precisely. Now, further suppose they were prohibited from dropping the class. What would then be the result of this new policy?”
“I suspect the overall quality of work would diminish, especially from those same top students.”
“It may amaze you to discover than many of them would do their work as well as they would under the former system. They would do so because of who they are. The standards they feel they must live up to are rock solid, not situational, and come from without.”
“Without? I would have thought you would say that they were internal.”
“The discipline and the fortitude to work hard and achieve are from within. The standards those students feel they must live up to are standards that come from the desire to fulfill their obligations to their parents, to society, to their God.
“You are correct, though. The overall quality of work would diminish substantially, to a degree that would be astounding. The average grade that you would award at the end of this hypothetical semester would be barely a ‘D,’ and possibly an ‘F.’ The reason for this is simply that it is human nature to wish to be recognized and rewarded for results, not effort. This is what I was referring to earlier when I mentioned the element that eluded Marx. He believed that a society could function ‘from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.’ He was very wrong.
“We have become sidetracked for quite some time now. You asked earlier how to place the whole above yourself. You do so by adding to the sum more than you take from it; it is that simple. If you are only able to contribute a little, then you must take less. To take less, you must need less. That is the answer.”
Reese felt himself getting tired. So much had been discussed, so many revelations; his mind was verging on revolt. He decided upon one more question before calling it a night. “The stories and myths of your arrival are dramatic and intense. It was not foretold, in anything that I have ever read, that you would arrive wearing brown loafers, Dockers, and a white button-down shirt, announcing yourself to the nearest government and submitting to endless questioning. It simply doesn’t seem like your style.”
Elohim laughed a deep and gentle laugh. “Even I am able to learn. My purpose is to bring the Chosen to Heaven. It is best if they arrive there relaxed and comfortable and, for many, joyous. Were I to arrive on a magnificent cloud and simply pluck them up, many of those, who have earned the right to sit at my side, would not be relaxed, comfortable, joyous or, in fact, happy to be chosen. I have found that it is better to arrive gently and discreetly. It is better to be joined by their leaders, both political and religious, in recognition of my presence and my purpose. It is better to inform them that they are of the Chosen and let them decide.”
Chapter Eight
Lynn Sheffield arrived at National Airport tired and stiff. He refused to acknowledge the name Ronald Reagan National Airport, in fact, correcting the ticket agent in Tucson, and pretending not to notice when she rolled her eyes in response to his obstinacy. Washington, D.C. was apparently having a hot day, Sheffield noticed as he glanced out the window next to the jetway. The air was shimmering above the tarmac, but it was cool and comfortable, almost chilly, in the air-conditioned terminal.
He had not made reservations for a place to stay upon his arrival, simply arranging for a rental car. None of the rental companies had a hybrid available, much to his chagrin, so Lynn settled for a small, two-door Kia that boasted MPG in the mid-forties. It took twenty minutes for his luggage to slide from the gap in the ceiling down the ramp to the conveyor. Hoisting the two heavy duffel bags, Sheffield swung around to head for the car rental booth, when he abruptly slammed into a gray-haired man in a dark suit. Before he had an opportunity to apologize, two younger dark-suited men, who had been in the process of grabbing their luggage, suddenly descended upon Lynn, each grabbing one of his arms.
“Hey!” Sheffield shouted. “What’s the deal?”
“Calm down,” one of the two said as they walked him away from the older gentleman.
Instead of taking that advice, Sheffield started to flail, trying to use his duffel bags as bludgeons. “Let me go, assholes!” Their grips were too firm for him to be effectual. The two continued walking Lynn to the exit doors in the opposite direction of the rental booth. All Sheffield could do was shout, which he did loudly.
As they reached the exit, a uniformed airport security officer, seeing the two men escorting Lynn, approached. “What’s the problem here?”
The men stopped walking and so did Lynn, having no choice. One of the strangers said, “This man assaulted the Archbishop.”
“What?” yelled Sheffield. “I swung my bags off the belt and accidentally hit the guy. I didn’t even have a chance to say I was sorry before these two goons grabbed me.”
The guard looked at the bodyguards who both shrugged. “I’ll take it from here,” he said. Releasing their grips on Sheffield slowly, watching to see if he was planning a dash back to the Archbishop, the two men turned and walked away. The security officer said, “Please come with me for a few minutes.”
“Why? I didn’t do anything.”
“Look, Mr. ….”
“Sheffield, Lynn Sheffield.”
“Mr. Sheffield, the security officers for the local diocese believe that you assaulted the Archbishop. They didn’t mention pressing charges….”
“Pressing charges? I bumped the guy! Is that an offense now? If it is, there are about five people on my flight I’d like to prosecute.”
“Please come with me to the security office to fill out some paperwork; it’ll just take a few minutes. I’m just doing my job, Mr. Sheffield.”
“That’s what the….”
“I know,” said the officer wearily, “that’s what the Nazis said.”
Lynn stopped arguing, realizing what was happening. “You’re just going to keep me with you for a while until Mr. Archbishop and his goons are gone, aren’t you?”
Pausing for a moment, the officer decided candor might be the best approach. “Yes, I am. I do need to fill out an incident report, though.”
“I don’t see you detaining those guys for your stupid report.”
“I know where to reach them. I don’t know anything about you.”
Figuring out that he was going to get nowhere with this argument, Lynn capitulated, “All right. All right.” Sticking his hands forward and expecting a laugh, he asked, “Wanna handcuff me?”
The security officer instead asked, “Should I?”
Angry and frustrated, Sheffield said, “Let’s go.”
א
Archbishop Coughlin stared silently out the window of the limousine. The minor altercation at the airport forgotten, he was thinking about the phone call that resulted in this sudden trip back to Washington, D.C. The Director of the FBI, Bill Burke, had been a parishioner and friend of the Archbishop for many years. ‘It’s probably a good thing we have that history,’ the priest thought, considering the topic of the call. After speaking with Burke, Coughlin notified Rome in very sketchy terms, had his staff book a flight home, and ended his vacation in Vancouver early. It had been a lon
g, grueling flight, yet he was anything but weary.
Reaching for the cradled cell phone built into his armrest, Coughlin called Burke, dialing his direct line. The Director answered on the first ring. “Hello, Kerry.”
“Hello, Bill. I wanted to let you know I’m in town. We’re driving in from Reagan now. Has anything changed?”
The Harvest Page 12
