There was a massacre once. Well, there were many massacres actually, but one is remembered with a certain clarity.
There came to be a debate among the monks of Oslo Forest about certain matters and a schism developed. A certain faction had taken up arms and powers and lent themselves to violent tasks: defending cities, capturing criminals, exploring and raiding foreign lands on behalf of various lords and kings.
“This is unacceptable,” some said. It was unseemly for men who called themselves monks to be engaged in fighting. When one had a gift, and could kills thousands at the drop of an eyelid or bring life to the sick, one had to use such power appropriately, and for the ultimate good.
“But, yes, some of these tasks we have undertaken are clearly inappropriate. We know that. But at other times we have fought for good purpose,” was the response.
“Well, given who our true master is, we ought not to fight at all, ever. War is not for our hands, or for the heart of the good and just.”
This debate went back and forth until one group of monks left the forest regions and surrounding hills to head north and across the waters to live as they saw most appropriate.
They took up life in a region called Liessa, and spent their days preaching a gospel of peace, healing the sick, and bringing life and prosperity to everyone they encountered.
Indeed the lands prospered so much that a certain king from the east got wind of the good deeds being done and decided to venture over, along with fifteen thousand soldiers and mercenaries on ten thousand horses.
The news of his approach reached the center of Liessa when he was still but five hundred miles or more away, and fear was rampant. People began to hide away their goods and send their wives and daughters into the hills. The elders who governed the region sent for the monks and their council.
“You will defend us, no? We have heard that one of you can slay five hundred on the left, and ten thousand on the right,” said an elder.
“It has been said, and maybe there is truth in that. But we here believe that there is a better way than to take to violence. Killing begets killing, and all reason and purpose are lost. We cannot raise the dead. It is better if we send a messenger to the King of the East and reason. He does not lack wisdom”.
Such was true. The King of the East was known to carry many things in his quiver, wisdom being one of them, and wisdom and destruction were dispensed side by side from his hands. He was a learned man and people often assumed that this knowledge was an indication of some deeper good or benevolent capability. If ignorance bred evil, knowledge bred its opposite, or so it was often said by those involved in educating the masses.
He often laughed at such assumptions himself. Does not an educated bad person become a more dangerous man, and not necessarily a good man? Even his own teachers and philosophers were of the belief that knowledge and education was all, and that an educated man was a virtuous man. He laughed at this, and in the mirror. He laughed and roused his army.
The King of the East was camped out in a valley when the emissaries of Liessa arrived to discuss the issues at hand. They arrived with gifts and tithes and blessings, and asked of his intentions. They made it clear that the forest monks were there among them, and would stand with them. The king listened to all of this, and sent them away with neither a yay or nay.
The messengers returned to Liessa and conveyed the king’s words to the elders and monks, and every heart turned dark. The lack of clarity made them open to forces and spirits beyond their control (and the King of the East knew such would happen); their hearts trembled and their minds wandered and fled in every direction. Finally one wizened old man said, “We must be prepared to fight, all of us.”
The monks would have none of that. “Our way is one of peace and it is our best weapon.” Having thus spoken, the people huddled and waited; some fled into other regions, while others made secret plans, and in general, confusion reigned.
The King of the East, knowing the power of fear, waited, and waited. Knowing the power of preparation and surprise, he sent his forces into four corners, surrounding the region from distant points. Knowing the power of confusion, he sent forces inside the central areas dressed as peasants so that they might spread rumor from inside. Most of all, and again, knowing the power of fear, he waited.
Eventually he entered the center town on horseback with a handful of men and was greeted by the elders and the monks.
“We welcome you, if you come in peace, and if otherwise, we know your wisdom and ours will find that peace,” said one of the monks who went by the name of John.
“Well, I have come to see what prospers here, and I see here IT prospers,” he replied with a laugh and knowing glance at his cohorts who sat fearsome on white horses.
“You are welcome to tarry with us, and enjoy all we have,” said Annastasio, a long time elder.
“Oh, and I will. Well, actually, I am. Even as I sit, and dine with you on words, we are taking your women from the forests- and in the forests- and we are slaying your young who you have hidden in the caves. And every which way the sun might rise or set, or the winds might blow, we stand, armed, to take, tarry and enjoy as we see fit.”
“That is bold talk for a man who stands here with what… five men? Even here, we are many, and with monks among us. Ought you not worry about your own life, rather than attempt to strike fear into ours?” asked Annastasio.
“Ha. Fear? These monks which stand with you will not fight. It is not their way. And who would dare attempt to strike me down from my horse. You, old small man? Or the young one there. Timothy means honoring god, does it not? You boy-man, make your name’s meaning pay its dues and bow down before me.”
John, the monk stepped forward.
“You are surely sure of yourself. But you are known as a man of wisdom, and we do not believe that you will do those things now that people have placed at your feet in the past. You are known to sway good and evil. Sway to good, and step right.”
“I sway neither left nor right today monk. I am. And, you, and your cohort, shall not stop what I have set myself to do.”
“Well, we can, fearless one. You know of the monks of Oslo and the battles we have fought.”
“Ah yes, I know of them. But who are you? Have not you chosen peace above all? Or, as it has been said, does not violence beget violence? Will you renounce your renouncings now and be proved the hypocrite?”
“We stand affirmed in what is right,” said the monk.
“And this day, you will stand affirmed, and dead”.
With that the King of the East and his five rode off to the western half of the town and joined up with the rest of his force.
And while the townsmen scattered, and as the woman fled, and while the children got crushed under hoof, and with the center town and circle villages looted and burned, the monks stood watching, strong in their resolve and virtue as 15,000 thousand people began their next morning dead.
The King of the East spared the monks only, and left them to their peace.
