Analyzing The Ideal

It was January 22, 1905. Cold air hit warm breath, the condensation mingling with the early morning fog. 300,000 Russians stood in the frigid weather, waiting, silently begging to be heard, hoping that Czar Nicholas would hear their unheard plea for freedom. They sang songs and toted religious paraphernalia while standing peaceably outside the palace. All they wanted was “fair treatment”, a life in which they could at least hope for decent wages and working hours. No harm was done. The crisp air cracked with the sound of a lone gunshot. In an instant, everything was chaos: women screamed as they clutched frightened children, men tried to be strong and maintain order, but their faces were marinated in sheer terror. Like a herd of animals, the people trampled each other, desperate to escape the onslaught of the Russian guards. Their common cause forgotten, the only thing they wanted was their lives.

An hour later, the clouds bleakly shadowed the place where the flower of freedom had dared to raise its head, only to be brutally trampled upon. No peaceful religious symbols remained, no quiet hymns, no hopeful faces of the young and old, no breath rising like silent prayers. The only evidence of change were the thousand corpses sprawled in the snow, mangled by trampling, their life blood making deeper etchings in history, than in the pristine snow. Did those Russian citizens die in vain? No, they died for something better, something which even they could not define.

53 years later, and people were still living quiet lives, secluded and private, but a young, American mind toiled, trying to de-mystify a school assignment. His teacher, Mr. Brookes, had required Kevin to write a paper on his personal political philosophy. “What?” thought Kevin, “This isn’t even, I mean, hangin’. What is a personal political philosophy anyways? There are so many things that have gotta be more important.” He stared glumly down at the blank page that stared menacingly up at him. The paper was due when Christmas break ended, in four days, and he hadn’t even thought about “philosophy”. Flipping to and fro through his notes, his eye fell upon a set of questions which Mr. Brooke has suggested that they utilize during their research. “Since I have no ideas flowing, I’ll take these to dinner to brainstorm with my old man. He’ll know.”

Right then, as if on cue, he heard a swell of voices and knew that his family had arrived for Sunday dinner. Kevin grabbed the notebook, slumped to the door, and climbed down the stairs. The Thompson kitchen was a merry place, decked out with the newest speckled oyster white linoleum; the walls were painted with Sears Roebuck and Company’s master mixed siliconized four-hour enamel 2428, the enviable mint green. Kevin’s 75-year-old grandpops, William Thompson, was engaged in testing the cottage cheese salad, while Michael and Lisa, his parents, debated about how long to cook the meatloaf. James, his older brother and only sibling, sat in the corner munching on a handful of frosted flakes which he had brought home from college. “James, don’t spoil your appetite,” cried his exasperated mother, as she took the turkey from the oven, “I’ve made your favorite dessert, grasshopper pie!”

“Lisa, I know you mean well,” laughed Mr. Thompson, “But there is no way a 21-year-old is going to ever be full.”

“I love grasshopper pie, too,” added Grandpops, over James’ crunching bites. The doorbell rang.

“Kevin, open the door, please.”

Richard, his dad’s single brother, scooted in, followed by Kevin’s best friend, Todd, who whispered to Kevin, “She some righteous chick.”

“Who? Wha…?”

“Your cousin, you dork.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know…the one whose name starts with ‘P’, I think.”

            “That doesn’t help at all, Todd.”  Close behind Todd came Kevin’s only cousins, the fashionable Purton twins, Pamela and Patricia, flanked by their parents, Aunt Kimberly and Uncle Earnest. Everyone flowed into the kitchen, took their seats, ate the meal in a loud, somewhat homey fashion, debating every controversial topic their minds fell upon. Finally the meal began to taper off, and Kevin saw his opportunity.

            “Well, I’m writing this paper on personal political philosophy. Mr. Brooke gave me a list of different political options, and I think I’ve settled on one: benevolent monarchy.”

            “Why is that?” queried James.

            Kevin laughed. “I’m still trying to figure that one out.”

            “Kevin, you have got to have your reasons, otherwise your opinion means nothing.”

            “That’s my problem. Right now I feel thicker that a five dollar malt. Can’t think. Mr. Brooke gave me these questions that I should use to determine my personal philosophy. Can we discuss them?” The family agreed enthusiastically, although Grandpops needed to have the proposition repeated at an increased volume.

            “Ok. Kevin, lay things out. Write down your thesis. Then de-brief us on the questions,” suggested Uncle Richard. Kevin scribbled in his notebook the following statement:

 “After analyzing and answering several essential questions, one can only come to the conclusion that the most ideal form of human government is a benevolent monarchy.”

            He looked up. Everyone looked back. “The questions are, ‘What is man? For what purpose does he exist?’, second, ‘What does man owe to his fellows?’, and, lastly, ‘What is society?’”

            “That’s deep,” noted a bamboozled-looking Todd.

            “Everyone,” said James in a commanding tone, “What is man?”

            “Man is a member of the species Homo Sapien.”

            “A person?”

            “Someone who is not daft enough to wear makeup and tease their hair,” teased Uncle Richard.

            “A featherless biped? That’s what Plato said,” declared Pamela.

            “Yeah,” added Patricia laughingly, “And then that other guy gave him a plucked chicken. Man isn’t a plucked chicken, but a plucked chicken is a featherless biped.”

            Grandpops sat up in his chair. “I think we need to take this seriously. When I was your age, Kevin, I read this book. Simple but marvelous. By this fellow called Pope. Alexander Pope. He said that man was a discontented creature, judging God’s righteousness depending on his mood (Pope, 48).”

            “It’s true, we are rebellious creatures,” Aunt Kimberly noted, “And I think that Pope depicts that wonderfully. ‘In pride, in reas’ning pride, our error lies; all quit their spheres and rush to the skies. Pride still is aiming at blest abodes, Men would be angels, angels would be gods. Aspiring to be gods, if angels fell, aspiring to be angels, men rebel: and who but wishes to invert the laws of Order, sins against Eternal Cause (48).’”

            “I’m astounded my dear, had no idea you where such a scholar,” said Uncle Earnest, as Aunt Kimberly giggled.

            “Well, thank you for that, Kim,” Mr. Thompson smiled the kind of smile which always indicated that he had some kind of incredible mental breakthrough. Lisa knew this and elbowed him. “All I was going to say is this: logically, man has to be under a government and, or God. I mean, think about it, you can’t be rebellious unless you are rebelling against something or someone.”

            “Are you saying that government causes rebellion? That’s dangerous,” replied Uncle Richard sarcastically.

            “No, no. That wouldn’t make sense. You see, man, in all his attributes, speech, and thinking, is witness that there is a God, along with the creation, all groaning together for his return. There was no time in which God did not exist; therefore, man’s perfect state is under another. In the Garden, there was no animosity, only perfect submission, so would it be today, if it were not for sin (ESV, Rom. 8:21).”

            “That’s a huge presupposition, Michael,” stated Uncle Earnest, “To say that God even exists.”

            “All of us here believe that he exists, right? But, for the sake of argument, I will point out that even the most heathen have ‘gods’ which camouflage the presence of the Creator. For example, Rousseau states that ‘national divisions produced polytheism, and this in turn produced religious and civil intolerance’ (Rousseau, 154).”

            “What does that mean?” the twins queried simultaneously.

            “It means that even someone, like Rousseau, acknowledges that there is a God, and that humans were under “gods” before even government was instituted (Rousseau, 154).”

            “And, lastly,” James suggested, “John Lock says that man needs a government. ‘God, having made man such a creature that, in his own judgment, it was not good for him to be alone, put him under strong obligation of necessity, convenience, and inclination, to drive him into society, as well as fitted him with understanding and language to continue and enjoy it (Locke, 44).”

            Kevin brightened up. “Oh, I get it. The answer to that question is this: Man is a creature, created by God, to do his will; although man is rebellious he functions best in a controlled state, whether under government or God. In that light, anarchy and terrorism are ruled out.”

            Lisa got up and began to serve the grasshopper pie. “This is my favorite, you know?” chortled Grandpop William.

            In spite of the fact that his mouth was filled with creamy mint and rich chocolaty bliss, Kevin began to talk. “Next question: what does man owe to others?”

            “First off, he shouldn’t talk with his mouth full of pie.”

            “C’mon. This is serious. Kevin, that is determined by the factors of government and God” said James, while digging into his pie with relish.

            “He’s right,” said Grandpop, who by this time had a thoroughly minty mustache, “And the Declaration of Independence covers both those bases in one beautifully concise statement. ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness (Declaration of Independence, 6).’”

            “We are commanded to only do unto others as we would have them do unto us,” Todd put in (ESV, Matt. 7:12).

            “The Bible not only mentions that, Todd, but also dictates our attitude towards government. For example, in Romans 13, it is mentioned that we should obey the authorities not only because God has set them over us, but also for the sake of conscience. It’s Paul’s way of saying, ‘It’s just common sense and decency’ (ESV, Rom. 13:5).”

            “‘Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law,’” quoted Kevin, “That’s what we owe each other. Respect. Honor. Love. (ESV, Rom. 13:8)”

            “And that rules out,” added Grandpop, wisely, “Socialism, Communism, and Oligarchy.”

            “Why is that?”

            “What do they teach you kids in schools these days? Socialism ‘is any economic system based upon collective ownership and control of many or most national resources’. This approach was used by the pilgrims, and only promoted laziness. If people can take advantage of another’s hard labor, they will. Is that what Paul has in mind when he mentions love (Kirk, 237)?”

            James added, “Kevin, communism is very similar to socialism, but more “in your face”. Karl Marx and Frederick Engles were the founders of communism. In their book, The Communist Manifesto, they laid out the game plan for setting up a communistic government. First, all the land-owners, the rich, and business-owners were to be slaughtered. Next, the uneducated poor would take over their property, running it under the explicit supervision of the government. According to Marx, the government would impose a heavy graduated income tax, confiscate property, centralize all communication and transportation, and centralize all credit within the banks. This, obviously, is a breeding ground for selfishness, dishonesty, and cruelty within the government. That is not love (Marx, Engles, 24).”

            Todd brightened up. He knew how to explain oligarchy: “Um, yeah. Kevin, oligarchy is government whose power is passed down according to money, power, family blood lines, and can sometimes be diverted by assassination. Oligarchy tends to be highly unjust, because people will rule whether or not they are a fit ruler.”

            “I see. Once again, my personal political philosophy holds, but I’m going to have to start defending it soon. My last question is this: what is a society and what is its purpose?” Everyone thought hard and long. It was late, and the adults had begun to enjoy post-prandial spritzers while Todd, Grandpop, and the Purton twins were digging into Mrs. Thompson’s back-up dessert, her famous Topsy-Turvy Pineapple Cake.

            “This is the hardest question of all,” noted Grandpop between large gooey bites of cake, crumbs puffing out of his mouth as he spoke. “A society is voluntary association of individuals for common ends; especially an organized group working together or periodically meeting because of common interests, beliefs, or profession (Merriam-Webster et al.).”

            “Remember,” said James, in a laid-back tone, “That man needs society. He cannot survive without one; society could almost be considered a band of life.”

            “I think a society should be similar to the relationship of God and his people, but only in the fact that that God listens to his people, but does his benevolent will. He thinks of their good, not his own gain, and they love him and serve him to the best of their abilities. Of course, this cannot be perfect, since the ruler and the people are imperfect. He is the man which they can look to, praise in his good deeds, and if he treats them cruelly, can be easily uprooted.”

            “Yes,” agreed James, heatedly, “Think about our American society! Corruption and bribery instead of the fair representation we were promised.”

            Mr. Thompson said, “Society should be the protector of the people. Paul mentions in Romans that the magistrate is the one who has been given the sword to defend his subjects and to punish those who disobey (13:4).”

            “A benevolent monarchy has been the only type of rule which has accomplished this successfully. Think of David, how much he loved the Lord, strove to rule his people according to what was right, and fought to protect the country and people that the Lord had granted him,” Grandpa noted perspicaciously.

            “So,” yawned Todd, wiping generous amounts of pineapple swirl from his fingers, “A republic and democracy are too prone to becoming corrupted. The power is spread too thin, and because of the layers of government, bribery and favoritism are almost guaranteed to ensue. Gentlemen, we have come to an agreement; benevolent monarchy is the only way.”

            “Not so fast, young man, I’m going to play devil’s advocate…Lisa, can I have some whipped cream?” grinned Grandpop. “Machiavelli is a great political thinker, and he would protest the idea of a benevolent ruler. He believed that the “Prince” should be almost cruel, yet outwardly noble and inspiring toward the people, in order that they might trustingly follow his lead. Pointedly, Machiavelli states that an ecclesiastical principality can be blighted because the ruler can hide behind the nursemaid of the church. Todd, what do you say?”

            Todd nervously began to finger-paint with the sad remains of mint cream and soggy cake crumbs, his face resembling that of a blanched almond, that is, non-descript, pale, and expressionless, since almonds do not possess faces. “Well,” he stuttered, “one of the only examples we have of a good benevolent monarchy is King David. But, somehow, it’s different. Grandpop William, remember when David sinned, and made a blunder by murdering Uriah and doin’ a five fingered discount on that chick, Bath-somethin’. But the thing is, he didn’t try to make it all cherry when the prophet came to him. He didn’t blame God or someone else, instead he asked for forgiveness, and mourned before God (ESV, 2 Sam 12:13).”

            Kevin added, “And, remember, after David took the census? He didn’t try to run from the consequences, instead he begged that the Lord to let him fall into the hand of God, knowing that God’s mercy would be infinite (24:14).”

            “Yes, he wasn’t like most other kings, he didn’t try to excuse himself. That is what makes the truly benevolent monarch superior to any other type of government,” Todd summed it up.

            “Kevin, you need to write your final thoughts in your notebook,” reminded Grandpop. Kevin wrote the following:

            “When one answers the question ‘What is Man?’, one finds that man was created by God, and thrives when under a government, ruling out anarchy and terroristic practices. Next, one unravels ‘What does man owe to his fellows?’, and we see that love, honor, and cooperation are due our fellow man, ruling out selfish, flagrantly unjust forms of government like oligarchies, communism, and socialism. ‘What is a society?’ is the final question, and in answering it one finds that the fairest society can be found where the power is limited to one benevolent man.”

            He looked up. He smiled. “I can’t believe that I thought this was such an unimportant issue. What I was I thinking?”

            Mr. Thompson grinned, “The question is what were you not thinking?”

            Kevin continued in earnest. “When someone asks me why this matters I’ll tell them this: in the end, this is about the eternal. We aren’t just debating about opinions and conjectures, because there will be a perfect government, the perfect benevolent monarchy someday. The king will always do what is right; he will love his people; he will protect them; he will lay upon them his yoke of freedom. And guess what? I’m going to be part of that society.”

            Todd leaned forward. “Kevin,” he whispered, “I don’t think those Russians in our history book died for nothin’. I think they died to make us think about the important stuff. It’s like they were trying to tell us something, without saying anything.” Kevin nodded.

            “Does anyone want some chocolate mayonnaise cake?” called Mrs. Thompson’s voice.

            “Why not?” winked Grandpops, “That’s my personal disaccharide philosophy!”

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