Not too long ago, in response to a witty work-related tip that I sent out to our sales force, I received some humorous feedback asking if I’d ever considered screenwriting. My response to the sales rep?
I’ll reaffirm what I told my co-worker when I said that I’ve never heard of Brian Regan!
But, seriously, the question asked in jest has stuck with me over the past few weeks. Although I smiled at the suggestion and immediately blew it off, I’m giving it some more thought and might just go for it. So, for your entertaining pleasure, I’ll now present to you a synopsis outlining my screenplay that could one day shake the foundations of Hollywood. (If you watch my storyboard movie, you can skip about halfway down the post to my follow-up.)
"For a movie? No. For a ballet? Maybe. Try this on for size: This man meets this woman. And he wants to marry her. But he can’t marry her, because she’s already getting ready to marry somebody else… so they all dance around for a couple hours (do a lot of that up on the toes business).”
I’ll reaffirm what I told my co-worker when I said that I’ve never heard of Brian Regan!But, seriously, the question asked in jest has stuck with me over the past few weeks. Although I smiled at the suggestion and immediately blew it off, I’m giving it some more thought and might just go for it. So, for your entertaining pleasure, I’ll now present to you a synopsis outlining my screenplay that could one day shake the foundations of Hollywood. (If you watch my storyboard movie, you can skip about halfway down the post to my follow-up.)
The Colony
In the wake of the nuclear fallout that destroyed ninety-five percent of the world’s population in World War III and rendered two-thirds of the surface of the earth toxic and unable to sustain life, survivors gathered to nine colonies scattered across the planet that were surrounded by giant, airtight bubbles protecting humanity from extinction. Survivors united under the leadership of those brilliant scientists who had created these life-saving colonies as they sought to rebuild humanity.
The Constitution of the former United States would be the foundation of this new society, maintaining liberty and preventing dictatorship in this fragile New World Order. Unfortunately, this sacred document had been destroyed along with Washington DC. The informational super-network once known as the World Wide Web had crashed midway through Armageddon and the Constitution now existed only in fragments. Relying on the memory of former professors and lawyers and those electronic and printed fragments surviving the apocalypse, the colonies’ leaders were able to reconstruct the governing document.
Since the Constitution and the former United States had been founded upon a united belief in a Supreme Creator, the separation of Church and State was abolished in the New World Order, and one single religion was universally accepted and adopted in the colonies of the Order. The Church of the Elect espoused beliefs from dozens of different Christian sects and other world faiths.
In such a small and fragile society, a constitutionally-dictated judiciary was crucial in providing a constant, accurate interpretation of the governing laws. Nine gifted scientists, who had been instrumental in saving mankind, were unanimously elected to fill the nine seats of the Supreme Court. As the walls between the secular and religious worlds had been abolished, this high court was more commonly referred to as the Brotherhood, which also served as the high council that led the Elect of the church.
Even in this utopian society, there were a small number of anarchists who yearned to claim power for themselves. These would-be dictators were both despised and feared among the Elect, who loathingly named these anarchists The Fallen. When discovered, the Fallen were banished from the colonies and released to the certain-doom of the outside world—the Fallout. To protect the Constitution from tampering by agents of the Fallen, the Brotherhood encoded the all-important document in a brilliantly devised, unbreakable digital code and uploaded the governing laws to computers that were stored in highly-secured vaults in each of the nine colonies. The Brother overseeing each colony would decode and read from the Constitution each week during worship services to teach the Elect the laws that would save them from another Apocalypse.
The Elect lived happily and at peace, satisfied with their individual rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Among their rights was the Freedom to Teach—education was critical in restoring those technologies and comforts of the old world—the Freedom of Dress—persecution based upon fashion styles was strictly prohibited—and Freedom of the Pigeon—since doves had become extinct in the wilds of the Fallout, the pigeon, a species indigenous to the cities of surviving humans, had become the New World Order’s symbol of peace and deliverance. Every citizen of the Order had the Right to Wear Charms and maintained protection from Unlawful Church-induced Seizure.
Generations passed in peace as the Brotherhood and the Elect struggled to rebuild what had been lost. But there arose a minority of those who did not consider themselves among the Fallen and, yet, felt that something was missing from their Utopian government. These troubled few desired to read and understand the Constitution for themselves so as to appease their qualms. Why was the document so carefully guarded? If the government was by the people and for the people, why could the people not have access to the praised parchment? Why did the Brotherhood elect its own? Shouldn’t the people do that? And why did the Brotherhood live in such extravagant palaces when the people lived in bland, uniform communal complexes?
Among these self-proclaimed Constitutionalists was a young scientist named Liam Daltyne. A gifted orator, Liam spoke to small gatherings on street corners and in private settings, reminding the Elect that They the People held the keys of leadership and had the privilege and the responsibility to understand their civic duty as outlined in the Constitution. And they ought to be able to read and study its words for themselves to be responsible citizens.
As the size of his crowds grew, Liam was thrilled with the hope that he might one day be able to hold the precious manuscript in his own hands and fully appreciate the democracy that his people had struggled to preserve. His hopes were dashed as Peacekeepers stormed his largest ever gathering, arresting dozens who did not resist in any way. Even as Liam protested, “What have we done wrong…?” he was thrown into prison as well. The trial was not public. It was presided over by the colony’s Supreme Justice rather than by a jury of his peers, and the verdict was swift. The maximum sentence was imposed: exile to the Fallout for the Fallen!
Liam and two of his colleagues, also banished from the Colony, foraged for food and water in the wilds of the Fallout for three days without success. The Fallout was desolate and devoid of life. The poison of standing water was visibly apparent in its blackish hue, and fresh water was nowhere to be found. On the fourth day, when all hope was lost, the three found shelter under a rocky outcrop and settled down to await the end. As night fell, Liam fought the urge to sleep as he a heard strange sound through the darkness which was shortly followed by a soft light emanating over the trees. He roused his companions and the three struggled toward the light. As they neared the strange light they came upon an unlikely band of men, other Fallen who had found a way to survive the Fallout!
Liam and his companions regained their strength as they listened in awe, over a heavenly meal, to the story of their saviors, more than twenty men who had found each other after exile, discovered a source of fresh water, and established a secret smuggling network that allowed them to infiltrate the colony and steal supplies, food and animals, and life-sustaining medicines that slowed the deadly effects of the radiation.
Liam joined this band of outlaws, contributing to their smuggling operations, and he began to formulate a secret plan to break into the government vaults and steal a copy of the encrypted Constitution. Most of these smugglers were anarchists who wanted to bring down society rather than fix it. But Liam was able to convince them, with the promise of the money that could be obtained from those same vaults, to take part in his mission.
A digital storage device was acquired, weapons were gathered, and blueprints of the treasury were obtained. The night for the raid arrived. As they breached the innermost vault of the treasury, alarms were triggered. Liam’s companion, John, was able to access the mainframe. Henry, Liam’s other companion, succeeded in obtaining a computer from a supply room. As Colony Peacekeepers flooded the treasury compound, Liam and his small band fled over the back wall. Three of their number were captured in the raid, but the band succeeded in escaping from the Colony with the treasure, the hardware, and, most importantly, the encrypted document.
Over the next two years, Liam fully devoted himself to breaking the code so that the Constitution might be made publically available to the people. During this time, the Brethren succeeded in developing special body suits that enabled safe passage through the Fallout. Peacekeepers began to venture into the wilds in search of the outlaws. Tomas Lesse was appointed as Chief Commander of the Peacekeepers and led the task force that was commissioned to crush the Fallen rebellion. Through intense interrogation of the smugglers captured during the raid, Lesse was able to study and analyze the movements of the Fallen and nearly intercepted them on many occasions.
On the other hand, Daltyne’s influence continued to spread within the colony among a growing number of Constitutionalists who anxiously awaited the decryption of the document. With their help, Daltyne was able to bribe officials and move in and out of the colony in secret in order to gain access to computers and other necessary tools to aid him in his decryption. What ensued was a tale of intrigue, spies, bribes, narrow escapes, aliases, safe houses, covert communications, and more.
Lesse’s hatred for Daltyne grew daily as he developed a personal vendetta against this lawless anarchist. With each passing day, the Elect were in increasing danger as Daltyne got closer to fully decoding the sacred document. When Peacekeeper agents confiscated some disturbing writings from the quarters of a known Constitutionalist, Daltyne’s plan to institute anarchy among the Elect became clear. The manuscripts contained an altered version of the Preamble and Article 1. By releasing a corrupted version of the Constitution to the populace, Daltyne was trying to incite chaos and confusion over the governing laws.
Lesse couldn’t simply exile the Constitutionalist traitor to the Fallout, as this man would surely join the ranks of the Fallen. So, for the first time since its establishment, the colony held an execution. Before a public crowd, the man was burned at the stake. The method for execution seemed so primitive, but the colony’s Supreme Justice and Brother assured Lesse that burning the traitor alongside the tainted manuscripts was necessary to send a message to other would-be Fallen.
Even with the might of the Colony behind him, Lesse was unable to crush out the rebellion that swarmed like ants under his feet. More manuscripts surfaced. More altered Articles and Sections of the Constitution were found. Executions became commonplace but failed to stamp out the rebellion with fear. The other eight colonies sent Peacekeepers to help in the manhunt. But secret factions of traitors and Fallen within the colony made their efforts to capture Daltyne virtually impossible.
After Article 7 was found within the colony, the Elect had grown openly restless. There was a universal concern over rumored abuses of their democratic process. The Brethren were profiting from the hard labors of the common people and refused to allow any man to question their right to do so by a direct appeal to the Constitution, the document that was held in such revere during worship but was evidently so special that only the Brethren could read and interpret it. At first, such heresy was punished by placing the offenders in confinement. But now, such blasphemy was commonly heard in public.
While rumors circulated about the Amendments to be released, the Brethren of the Supreme Court conspired with Tomas Lesse to make a final attempt to corner Daltyne. Peace and order might be preserved in their fragile society if they could only capture the heretic and expose him as a Fallen anarchist. The crusade for democracy received unlikely reinforcements in the man Henry Allen, one of the associates exiled alongside Liam Daltyne years before. In a secret meeting with Lesse, Allen, tired of hiding in the Fallout, offered to reveal the location of Daltyne’s safe houses in exchange for a life of privilege among the Peacekeepers. A careful plan was laid for the capture of Daltyne. Hundreds of Peacekeepers raided a safe house and took the public enemy in the dead of night. The home was set ablaze, and Liam Daltyne was thrown into the tower under the guard of fifty Peacekeepers.
Arrangements were made for the execution, again a burning at the stake. Justice would be swift. Doubling the guard, Lesse was taking no chances. The Constitutionalists had grown strong, and a rescue attempt was almost assured. But it did not come. The following day at dusk, Daltyne was led to his fate. The entire population of the colony was forcibly ushered into the treasury compound to witness the execution. But there was no resistance. There was only a great hush.
The flames were stoked and Daltyne was strapped to a pole. As the flames licked at the feet of the Fallen revolutionary, his face etched with pain, and the man Liam Daltyne finally opened his mouth. Rather than crying out in pain, the man began to shout out to the people, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech; or of the press…”
The Colony’s Supreme Justice demanded that Daltyne be silenced. Lesse repeated the order to his first in command. But the Peacekeeper backed away from the flames in fear.
Daltyne fought back a grimace and yelled even louder, “…or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances! A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State…”
Lesse looked at his rival in hatred and rushed at the man.
“…the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be…”
As Lesse clasped his hands around Daltyne’s neck, the blasphemous words were cut off. Lesse cried out in agony as his clothing caught fire. But he refused to release his enemy, even after Daltyne went limp. As he struggled to maintain consciousness, Tomas Lesse became aware of shouting in the crowd above. Many voices in unison had replaced that of Liam Daltyne as papers were being thrown through the gathered crowd. Lesse knew what writing those papers contained.
Lesse had been beaten. Democracy had been beaten. His beloved nation would give way to anarchy and another Apocalypse. Tomas Lesse had failed his people, and he had failed his God. His solitary prayer in that moment was to be granted deafness so as not to hear one more word of blasphemy.
But the chanting of the Elect only grew louder. “The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated…” And then Tomas’ prayer was answered.
The Constitution of the former United States would be the foundation of this new society, maintaining liberty and preventing dictatorship in this fragile New World Order. Unfortunately, this sacred document had been destroyed along with Washington DC. The informational super-network once known as the World Wide Web had crashed midway through Armageddon and the Constitution now existed only in fragments. Relying on the memory of former professors and lawyers and those electronic and printed fragments surviving the apocalypse, the colonies’ leaders were able to reconstruct the governing document.Since the Constitution and the former United States had been founded upon a united belief in a Supreme Creator, the separation of Church and State was abolished in the New World Order, and one single religion was universally accepted and adopted in the colonies of the Order. The Church of the Elect espoused beliefs from dozens of different Christian sects and other world faiths.In such a small and fragile society, a constitutionally-dictated judiciary was crucial in providing a constant, accurate interpretation of the governing laws. Nine gifted scientists, who had been instrumental in saving mankind, were unanimously elected to fill the nine seats of the Supreme Court. As the walls between the secular and religious worlds had been abolished, this high court was more commonly referred to as the Brotherhood, which also served as the high council that led the Elect of the church.Even in this utopian society, there were a small number of anarchists who yearned to claim power for themselves. These would-be dictators were both despised and feared among the Elect, who loathingly named these anarchists The Fallen. When discovered, the Fallen were banished from the colonies and released to the certain-doom of the outside world—the Fallout. To protect the Constitution from tampering by agents of the Fallen, the Brotherhood encoded the all-important document in a brilliantly devised, unbreakable digital code and uploaded the governing laws to computers that were stored in highly-secured vaults in each of the nine colonies. The Brother overseeing each colony would decode and read from the Constitution each week during worship services to teach the Elect the laws that would save them from another Apocalypse.The Elect lived happily and at peace, satisfied with their individual rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Among their rights was the Freedom to Teach—education was critical in restoring those technologies and comforts of the old world—the Freedom of Dress—persecution based upon fashion styles was strictly prohibited—and Freedom of the Pigeon—since doves had become extinct in the wilds of the Fallout, the pigeon, a species indigenous to the cities of surviving humans, had become the New World Order’s symbol of peace and deliverance. Every citizen of the Order had the Right to Wear Charms and maintained protection from Unlawful Church-induced Seizure.Generations passed in peace as the Brotherhood and the Elect struggled to rebuild what had been lost. But there arose a minority of those who did not consider themselves among the Fallen and, yet, felt that something was missing from their Utopian government. These troubled few desired to read and understand the Constitution for themselves so as to appease their qualms. Why was the document so carefully guarded? If the government was by the people and for the people, why could the people not have access to the praised parchment? Why did the Brotherhood elect its own? Shouldn’t the people do that? And why did the Brotherhood live in such extravagant palaces when the people lived in bland, uniform communal complexes?Among these self-proclaimed Constitutionalists was a young scientist named Liam Daltyne. A gifted orator, Liam spoke to small gatherings on street corners and in private settings, reminding the Elect that They the People held the keys of leadership and had the privilege and the responsibility to understand their civic duty as outlined in the Constitution. And they ought to be able to read and study its words for themselves to be responsible citizens.As the size of his crowds grew, Liam was thrilled with the hope that he might one day be able to hold the precious manuscript in his own hands and fully appreciate the democracy that his people had struggled to preserve. His hopes were dashed as Peacekeepers stormed his largest ever gathering, arresting dozens who did not resist in any way. Even as Liam protested, “What have we done wrong…?” he was thrown into prison as well. The trial was not public. It was presided over by the colony’s Supreme Justice rather than by a jury of his peers, and the verdict was swift. The maximum sentence was imposed: exile to the Fallout for the Fallen!Liam and two of his colleagues, also banished from the Colony, foraged for food and water in the wilds of the Fallout for three days without success. The Fallout was desolate and devoid of life. The poison of standing water was visibly apparent in its blackish hue, and fresh water was nowhere to be found. On the fourth day, when all hope was lost, the three found shelter under a rocky outcrop and settled down to await the end. As night fell, Liam fought the urge to sleep as he a heard strange sound through the darkness which was shortly followed by a soft light emanating over the trees. He roused his companions and the three struggled toward the light. As they neared the strange light they came upon an unlikely band of men, other Fallen who had found a way to survive the Fallout!Liam and his companions regained their strength as they listened in awe, over a heavenly meal, to the story of their saviors, more than twenty men who had found each other after exile, discovered a source of fresh water, and established a secret smuggling network that allowed them to infiltrate the colony and steal supplies, food and animals, and life-sustaining medicines that slowed the deadly effects of the radiation.Liam joined this band of outlaws, contributing to their smuggling operations, and he began to formulate a secret plan to break into the government vaults and steal a copy of the encrypted Constitution. Most of these smugglers were anarchists who wanted to bring down society rather than fix it. But Liam was able to convince them, with the promise of the money that could be obtained from those same vaults, to take part in his mission.
A digital storage device was acquired, weapons were gathered, and blueprints of the treasury were obtained. The night for the raid arrived. As they breached the innermost vault of the treasury, alarms were triggered. Liam’s companion, John, was able to access the mainframe. Henry, Liam’s other companion, succeeded in obtaining a computer from a supply room. As Colony Peacekeepers flooded the treasury compound, Liam and his small band fled over the back wall. Three of their number were captured in the raid, but the band succeeded in escaping from the Colony with the treasure, the hardware, and, most importantly, the encrypted document.Over the next two years, Liam fully devoted himself to breaking the code so that the Constitution might be made publically available to the people. During this time, the Brethren succeeded in developing special body suits that enabled safe passage through the Fallout. Peacekeepers began to venture into the wilds in search of the outlaws. Tomas Lesse was appointed as Chief Commander of the Peacekeepers and led the task force that was commissioned to crush the Fallen rebellion. Through intense interrogation of the smugglers captured during the raid, Lesse was able to study and analyze the movements of the Fallen and nearly intercepted them on many occasions.On the other hand, Daltyne’s influence continued to spread within the colony among a growing number of Constitutionalists who anxiously awaited the decryption of the document. With their help, Daltyne was able to bribe officials and move in and out of the colony in secret in order to gain access to computers and other necessary tools to aid him in his decryption. What ensued was a tale of intrigue, spies, bribes, narrow escapes, aliases, safe houses, covert communications, and more.
Lesse’s hatred for Daltyne grew daily as he developed a personal vendetta against this lawless anarchist. With each passing day, the Elect were in increasing danger as Daltyne got closer to fully decoding the sacred document. When Peacekeeper agents confiscated some disturbing writings from the quarters of a known Constitutionalist, Daltyne’s plan to institute anarchy among the Elect became clear. The manuscripts contained an altered version of the Preamble and Article 1. By releasing a corrupted version of the Constitution to the populace, Daltyne was trying to incite chaos and confusion over the governing laws.Lesse couldn’t simply exile the Constitutionalist traitor to the Fallout, as this man would surely join the ranks of the Fallen. So, for the first time since its establishment, the colony held an execution. Before a public crowd, the man was burned at the stake. The method for execution seemed so primitive, but the colony’s Supreme Justice and Brother assured Lesse that burning the traitor alongside the tainted manuscripts was necessary to send a message to other would-be Fallen.Even with the might of the Colony behind him, Lesse was unable to crush out the rebellion that swarmed like ants under his feet. More manuscripts surfaced. More altered Articles and Sections of the Constitution were found. Executions became commonplace but failed to stamp out the rebellion with fear. The other eight colonies sent Peacekeepers to help in the manhunt. But secret factions of traitors and Fallen within the colony made their efforts to capture Daltyne virtually impossible.
After Article 7 was found within the colony, the Elect had grown openly restless. There was a universal concern over rumored abuses of their democratic process. The Brethren were profiting from the hard labors of the common people and refused to allow any man to question their right to do so by a direct appeal to the Constitution, the document that was held in such revere during worship but was evidently so special that only the Brethren could read and interpret it. At first, such heresy was punished by placing the offenders in confinement. But now, such blasphemy was commonly heard in public.While rumors circulated about the Amendments to be released, the Brethren of the Supreme Court conspired with Tomas Lesse to make a final attempt to corner Daltyne. Peace and order might be preserved in their fragile society if they could only capture the heretic and expose him as a Fallen anarchist. The crusade for democracy received unlikely reinforcements in the man Henry Allen, one of the associates exiled alongside Liam Daltyne years before. In a secret meeting with Lesse, Allen, tired of hiding in the Fallout, offered to reveal the location of Daltyne’s safe houses in exchange for a life of privilege among the Peacekeepers. A careful plan was laid for the capture of Daltyne. Hundreds of Peacekeepers raided a safe house and took the public enemy in the dead of night. The home was set ablaze, and Liam Daltyne was thrown into the tower under the guard of fifty Peacekeepers.Arrangements were made for the execution, again a burning at the stake. Justice would be swift. Doubling the guard, Lesse was taking no chances. The Constitutionalists had grown strong, and a rescue attempt was almost assured. But it did not come. The following day at dusk, Daltyne was led to his fate. The entire population of the colony was forcibly ushered into the treasury compound to witness the execution. But there was no resistance. There was only a great hush.
The flames were stoked and Daltyne was strapped to a pole. As the flames licked at the feet of the Fallen revolutionary, his face etched with pain, and the man Liam Daltyne finally opened his mouth. Rather than crying out in pain, the man began to shout out to the people, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech; or of the press…”The Colony’s Supreme Justice demanded that Daltyne be silenced. Lesse repeated the order to his first in command. But the Peacekeeper backed away from the flames in fear.
Daltyne fought back a grimace and yelled even louder, “…or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances! A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State…”
Lesse looked at his rival in hatred and rushed at the man.
“…the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be…”
As Lesse clasped his hands around Daltyne’s neck, the blasphemous words were cut off. Lesse cried out in agony as his clothing caught fire. But he refused to release his enemy, even after Daltyne went limp. As he struggled to maintain consciousness, Tomas Lesse became aware of shouting in the crowd above. Many voices in unison had replaced that of Liam Daltyne as papers were being thrown through the gathered crowd. Lesse knew what writing those papers contained.Lesse had been beaten. Democracy had been beaten. His beloved nation would give way to anarchy and another Apocalypse. Tomas Lesse had failed his people, and he had failed his God. His solitary prayer in that moment was to be granted deafness so as not to hear one more word of blasphemy.But the chanting of the Elect only grew louder. “The right of the people to be secure in their persons, houses, papers, and effects, against unreasonable searches and seizures, shall not be violated…” And then Tomas’ prayer was answered.
*****
So it’s rough, I know. And maybe it’s a little too principled in nature—maybe too preachy. Honestly, most people would probably prefer watching ballet dancers dance around for a few hours—as long as there’s a lot of that “up on the toes” business. But I’ll leave it to you, my fans, to provide the real feedback here. So I’m going to the mail bag for this one. I’ve intentionally withheld the names of commentators so as to encourage open and uninhibited criticism.
Burning at the stake? Seriously? Society has torn itself apart and were going for middle-age martyrdoms?
Good point. In the future they probably have some mind probe that produces such mental agony as to kill a man rather than resorting to physical torture—much more humane. Suggestion noted. Will consider more technologically advanced justice in my rewrite.
Pigeon worship? Is that the best you could come up with? Granted, the “right to wear charms” was pretty humorous, but, with your pigeon gag, you were simply trying too hard.
Noted. I can’t really defend myself on that one. It may be a subconscious reference to the inner guilt I still feel over accidentally dismembering a pigeon years ago… Don’t ask!
On behalf of PETA, we would like to officially extend the Award for Lifetime Ethicalism for your courageous and bold intervention in behalf of one of the most unethically treated animals on our planet. We would like to award you $10,000 toward the production of The Colony provided you consider changing the name to The Preserve. Long live Ethicalism! And Long Live the Pigeon!
Wow! Thank you so much for your generosity. I will indeed consider the name change. Does this mean I get to do a photo shoot?
On behalf of PETA, we would like to unofficially revoke the Award for Lifetime Ethicalism after being made aware of a certain maimed bird that has been on Trash Stamps and Worker’s Comp for the past eleven years due to work-related injuries sustained in the Baltic’s and its inability to establish a substantial position in the pecking order. We have reason to believe that this workplace injury was no accident, and we will be making a full inquiry.
Uh, never mind on that photo shoot. For the record, I would rather go neigh at kids than wear feathers, even for a Thanksgiving Day reenactment!
I couldn’t help but notice some similarities between your two main characters and those of Hugo’s Les Miserables: an escaped prisoner and a duty-bound law enforcer. Both men stood for beliefs that they fully espoused. They held different world views that governed their actions and made them natural rivals. Did this classic tale of justice and mercy in some way influence you? And should we be concerned about plagiarism?
Very insightful! I would not be truthful if I did not admit that Jean Valjean and Javert were key role models for Daltyne and Lesse and that the cops and robbers portion of the story closely resembles that of Victor Hugo. But plagiarism? That’s a weighty accusation. My tale is not one of two principles, mercy and justice, competing against each other. Mine is a story about two men who both fought dearly for the same principle: democracy and liberty for all men. Daltyne feared that the principle had become corrupted and abused by men of power. Lesse feared that that very same principle would become corrupted if allowed into the hands of the common and ordinary. The moral to the story is that two men can be fighting for the same thing and yet be mortal enemies.
Les Miserables? There’s about as much similarity between your screenplay and this classic novel as there is between Jay Leno and Barbara Streisand—although both do have large noses. You ripped your story straight out of history! And I intend to expose your plagiarism to the media if you attempt to move forward with production. Do the names John Stokesley, Thomas Cromwell, or John Frith mean anything to you? Of course they do! And your character names?... A dead giveaway! You could have at least TRIED to hide your plagiarism.
Ok, you caught me. In publishing anything to the World Wide Web, I do take the risk that there might be some 16th Century European History majors out there who might stumble upon my blog. Then again, I really didn’t think I had that many readers out there, due to the lack of comments on my posts, so I figured I was safe. So I guess I’ll take it as a compliment that I was able to lure in a European history buff at the expense of making millions on production of The Colony.
Yes, my story is basically a futuristic retelling of a historic tale of intrigue, spies, betrayals, executions, and the smuggling of secret manuscripts forbidden by powerful governmental and ecclesiastical forces. But I do think plagiarism is a little harsh… I prefer to think of it as borrowing. But what did you expect? Did you really think my ballet wasn’t “borrowed”? Heck, half of what I say is a quote from Brian Regan!
But you were right, in that I couldn’t even muster enough creativity to come up with my own character names. Liam Daltyne is indeed an alias for William Tyndale, and Tomas Lesse is no other than the noble Sir Thomas More. At least the betrayer in my story, Henry Allen, had an original last name… oh, wait… I guess his last name came as a reference to a tool just like that of his namesake, Henry Philips. So I guess I’m about as creative as a prison break at high noon.
So why would I retell the story of William Tyndale in a fictional, futuristic setting? And who were these men? Most of us aren’t 16th Century history buffs. William Tyndale, like Liam Daltyne, had a belief that the most common of men had a right to read and understand a forbidden manuscript for themselves rather than having it interpreted for them. What document was this? The Holy Bible.
Tyndale lived in a day when the Bible may as well have been encrypted in an unbreakable code. Only the most elite class of society, the priests of the church, had the learning and the authority to read from and to interpret the Latin Bible. Tradition and law demanded that the words of that most sacred of books should only be penned in the purest of languages, not the unclean tongue of the common and dirty Anglican people. This language barrier reserved the interpretation of the sacred book to the priests and to the church. William Tyndale, and many others, felt differently, arguing that every man had the right to read and hear the Bible in his own tongue so as to more fully understand the doctrines and to rely on the Spirit, rather than a man or a church, for the proper interpretation of God’s word.
And so, William Tyndale was hunted as an outlaw by Sir Thomas More, an agent of the church and of the crown. Over the many years of their rivalry, Tyndale translated and released portions of the Old and New Testament to the common people of England while More hunted him down and engaged in a written war of words with his nemesis. Their story, which seems like it was pulled straight out of a movie, is indeed much like that of Jean Valjean and Javert. Hugo’s characters both loved the law. Both were good men. But their conflicting views over justice and mercy fueled an inevitable rivalry that could only be ended by death. Tyndale and More both believed in God. Both men loved the Bible. One man felt that men should be agents unto themselves. The other had an undying testimony of the church and its authority and felt that men should be agents of God’s chosen.
So, which man was the hero and which was the villain? History seems to favor Tyndale, just as Hugo favored Valjean. Sir Thomas More executed good men and women who were only trying to seek God’s word. He was obsessed with capturing his rival. In half a million words, he wrote a Confutation of Tyndale’s teachings in defense of his church. In the end, before he could bring about the downfall of his enemy, he lost his own life at the hand of his supposed allies. And we, who look to Tyndale as our hero, cheer as the villain gets his just desserts. In contrast, Tyndale was a martyr who died for his belief and for his courageous acts for which we are greatly indebted.
And so, many of us might recognize the name William Tyndale. Chances are that we dearly love and cherish some of the beautiful words and phrases that he originated. Words like Atonement and birthright and phrases like still, small voice; Ye are the light of the world; Fear not, little flock; Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith; Knock and it shall be opened unto you; and Blessed are the poor in spirit. Ninety percent of the King James Version of the Bible is William Tyndale.
But do we recognize the name Sir Thomas More? Probably not. Continuing the recognition game, how about these other words or phrases? Are we familiar with or do we even use these? Paradox, taunt, obstruction, shuffle, meeting, anticipate, monosyllable, pretext, not to see the wood for the trees, make the best of something, out of the frying pan into the fire, and a moon made of green cheese. We might not easily remember the name of their creator, but chances are we regularly say or hear these words. That means that without Sir Thomas More, instead of an iPod Shuffle, we might be jamming to our iPod Jumbles. Without More, we would only have multiple syllable words, which would make texting pretty hard. Without More, the moon might be made of red hot chili peppers instead of green cheese. However, without More there would be no obstructions holding us back in life, no paradoxes to sort out, no sibling taunting, and—best of all—no meetings to have to sit through. Sounds pretty good, right? A veritable Utopia? Hold on, there would be no Utopia without More, either--English Literature majors can back me up on that one. Believe it or not, we even sing the words of Sir Thomas More in our worship services(and I'll ask Irish Poetry majors not to back me up on this one...)!
But how can this be? In fairy tales, there’s never anything good to be said about the villain. We want to hate him. Any redeeming qualities in a villain would ruin the story for us.
But let’s look a little more deeply at More, this villain, this horrible man. Sir Thomas More, Lord Chancellor of England, was commanded by his king, Henry VIII, to sign his name to the Act of Succession, a document that suggested that the king was the rightful head of the Church of England. More firmly disagreed with this, owing to his firm testimony of the church’s authority in Rome, and refused to sign. His lands and estate were taken from him. He was imprisoned on charges of treason. And, finally, he was sentenced to death.
Henry knew how the people admired More. He also knew of More’s faithfulness in defending the church and seeking to protect both the church and the throne from the disorder resulting from the Reformers’ dissidence. He did not really want to put him to death. In a play called “A Man for All Seasons” which depicts this story, King Henry sent More’s wife and his daughter Meg to see him in prison, hoping that they might urge him to take the oath. More’s daughter reminds her father that he had always taught her that God regards the heart and not the words of the lips. She begs him to “say the words of the oath and in your heart think otherwise.”
Sir Thomas replies, “What is an oath but words we say to God?” He then cups his hands and continues: “When a man takes an oath, Meg, he’s holding his own self in his own hands. Like water. And if he opens his fingers then—he needn’t hope to find himself again”
Another character, a friend named Norfolk asks More, “Can’t you just do what I did, and come with us, for fellowship?”
Sir Thomas replies, “And when we stand before God, and you are sent to Paradise for doing according to your conscience, and I am damned for not doing according to mine, will you come with me, for fellowship?”
When Sir Thomas More approached the scaffold, condemned to beheading—a more humane death than that planned for his rival Tyndale, More spoke to his accusers (and these words were truly his and not those from a movie), “I verily trust, and shall therefore right heartily pray, that though your lordships have now here in earth been judges to my condemnation, we may yet hereafter in heaven merrily all meet together, to our everlasting salvation.”
For myself, at least, I’ve now ruined this story of William Tyndale and Sir Thomas More. I can’t hate the antagonist. He may have not had the same open mind and heart that Tyndale certainly had, but he had a good mind and a tender heart, nonetheless. We hear that in his words, those spoken and those put to paper.
So I must confess. The real reason for The Colony and for the plant in my mailbag audience was to provide some context so that I could share a few thoughts about one of my favorite hymns. (Yes, that letter was a plant… there probably aren’t any 16th Century European History majors tuning in to Sermons of the Heart. Though, whatever your major, I would love to read your comments and hear your feedback.)
My thoughts about this hymn go along so nicely with the story of Tyndale and More, men who both loved their God. The words mean so much more when you can think of their author as a misunderstood villain who had such a strong testimony of his convictions that, even though he was the cause of many martyrdoms, he himself became a martyr as he gave his life for this testimony... Only, as I prepared to publish my blog, I noticed one tiny little oversight in my research. The author of this hymn is Thomas Moore. Since you're all so much more observant than me, you're shouting out, "Mike, there's an extra 'o' in there!" Me? I'm thinking something a lot less intelligent, something like 'O' @#*%! A quick search on Wikipedia confirmed that, rather than the Lord Chancellor of England, Thomas Moore was a talented Irish poet.
Well, shoot, there goes my blog for this month! With a little less wind in my sails, I'm going to salvage what I can here and push forward, since these words do indeed fit so nicely with the story of Tyndale and More. And I personally will pretend that I never saw that Wikipedia article and go on believing they originated from a knight of the Anglican empire.
The hymn I’m referring to is called Come, Ye Disconsolate, and is perhaps as obscure to some as the name Sir Thomas More. We honestly don’t sing it that often. And personally, though I know the words by heart, I would have to break out my hymnbook to refresh myself with the melody. I know I’ve sung this hymn at least once. In fact, I’ve sung every hymn in the hymnbook at least once. As a teenager, we organized a Hymn Marathon and sang every verse of all 341 hymns on one Saturday. It took us many gallons of milk and juice, dozens of donuts, and over 13 hours. But we emerged victorious, voices mostly intact, and we all lived on to sing another day.
I first really encountered this hymn a few years ago on a Rob Gardner album about the Mormon pioneers. Listening to the stories of the hardships those faithful men and women overcame, I was touched to hear this hymn as something of a concluding testimony to their faith just prior to arriving at the Great Salt Lake and finally finding a new home. Rob put Anacreon Thomas Moore’s words to an original tune that I know much better than the melody in the hymnbook. The words are beautiful in their simplicity (Listen to the song here--I guarantee it's worth your time!):
Burning at the stake? Seriously? Society has torn itself apart and were going for middle-age martyrdoms?
Good point. In the future they probably have some mind probe that produces such mental agony as to kill a man rather than resorting to physical torture—much more humane. Suggestion noted. Will consider more technologically advanced justice in my rewrite.
Pigeon worship? Is that the best you could come up with? Granted, the “right to wear charms” was pretty humorous, but, with your pigeon gag, you were simply trying too hard.
Noted. I can’t really defend myself on that one. It may be a subconscious reference to the inner guilt I still feel over accidentally dismembering a pigeon years ago… Don’t ask!
On behalf of PETA, we would like to officially extend the Award for Lifetime Ethicalism for your courageous and bold intervention in behalf of one of the most unethically treated animals on our planet. We would like to award you $10,000 toward the production of The Colony provided you consider changing the name to The Preserve. Long live Ethicalism! And Long Live the Pigeon!Wow! Thank you so much for your generosity. I will indeed consider the name change. Does this mean I get to do a photo shoot?
On behalf of PETA, we would like to unofficially revoke the Award for Lifetime Ethicalism after being made aware of a certain maimed bird that has been on Trash Stamps and Worker’s Comp for the past eleven years due to work-related injuries sustained in the Baltic’s and its inability to establish a substantial position in the pecking order. We have reason to believe that this workplace injury was no accident, and we will be making a full inquiry.
Uh, never mind on that photo shoot. For the record, I would rather go neigh at kids than wear feathers, even for a Thanksgiving Day reenactment!
I couldn’t help but notice some similarities between your two main characters and those of Hugo’s Les Miserables: an escaped prisoner and a duty-bound law enforcer. Both men stood for beliefs that they fully espoused. They held different world views that governed their actions and made them natural rivals. Did this classic tale of justice and mercy in some way influence you? And should we be concerned about plagiarism?Very insightful! I would not be truthful if I did not admit that Jean Valjean and Javert were key role models for Daltyne and Lesse and that the cops and robbers portion of the story closely resembles that of Victor Hugo. But plagiarism? That’s a weighty accusation. My tale is not one of two principles, mercy and justice, competing against each other. Mine is a story about two men who both fought dearly for the same principle: democracy and liberty for all men. Daltyne feared that the principle had become corrupted and abused by men of power. Lesse feared that that very same principle would become corrupted if allowed into the hands of the common and ordinary. The moral to the story is that two men can be fighting for the same thing and yet be mortal enemies.
Les Miserables? There’s about as much similarity between your screenplay and this classic novel as there is between Jay Leno and Barbara Streisand—although both do have large noses. You ripped your story straight out of history! And I intend to expose your plagiarism to the media if you attempt to move forward with production. Do the names John Stokesley, Thomas Cromwell, or John Frith mean anything to you? Of course they do! And your character names?... A dead giveaway! You could have at least TRIED to hide your plagiarism.
Ok, you caught me. In publishing anything to the World Wide Web, I do take the risk that there might be some 16th Century European History majors out there who might stumble upon my blog. Then again, I really didn’t think I had that many readers out there, due to the lack of comments on my posts, so I figured I was safe. So I guess I’ll take it as a compliment that I was able to lure in a European history buff at the expense of making millions on production of The Colony.
Yes, my story is basically a futuristic retelling of a historic tale of intrigue, spies, betrayals, executions, and the smuggling of secret manuscripts forbidden by powerful governmental and ecclesiastical forces. But I do think plagiarism is a little harsh… I prefer to think of it as borrowing. But what did you expect? Did you really think my ballet wasn’t “borrowed”? Heck, half of what I say is a quote from Brian Regan!
But you were right, in that I couldn’t even muster enough creativity to come up with my own character names. Liam Daltyne is indeed an alias for William Tyndale, and Tomas Lesse is no other than the noble Sir Thomas More. At least the betrayer in my story, Henry Allen, had an original last name… oh, wait… I guess his last name came as a reference to a tool just like that of his namesake, Henry Philips. So I guess I’m about as creative as a prison break at high noon.
So why would I retell the story of William Tyndale in a fictional, futuristic setting? And who were these men? Most of us aren’t 16th Century history buffs. William Tyndale, like Liam Daltyne, had a belief that the most common of men had a right to read and understand a forbidden manuscript for themselves rather than having it interpreted for them. What document was this? The Holy Bible.Tyndale lived in a day when the Bible may as well have been encrypted in an unbreakable code. Only the most elite class of society, the priests of the church, had the learning and the authority to read from and to interpret the Latin Bible. Tradition and law demanded that the words of that most sacred of books should only be penned in the purest of languages, not the unclean tongue of the common and dirty Anglican people. This language barrier reserved the interpretation of the sacred book to the priests and to the church. William Tyndale, and many others, felt differently, arguing that every man had the right to read and hear the Bible in his own tongue so as to more fully understand the doctrines and to rely on the Spirit, rather than a man or a church, for the proper interpretation of God’s word.
And so, William Tyndale was hunted as an outlaw by Sir Thomas More, an agent of the church and of the crown. Over the many years of their rivalry, Tyndale translated and released portions of the Old and New Testament to the common people of England while More hunted him down and engaged in a written war of words with his nemesis. Their story, which seems like it was pulled straight out of a movie, is indeed much like that of Jean Valjean and Javert. Hugo’s characters both loved the law. Both were good men. But their conflicting views over justice and mercy fueled an inevitable rivalry that could only be ended by death. Tyndale and More both believed in God. Both men loved the Bible. One man felt that men should be agents unto themselves. The other had an undying testimony of the church and its authority and felt that men should be agents of God’s chosen.
So, which man was the hero and which was the villain? History seems to favor Tyndale, just as Hugo favored Valjean. Sir Thomas More executed good men and women who were only trying to seek God’s word. He was obsessed with capturing his rival. In half a million words, he wrote a Confutation of Tyndale’s teachings in defense of his church. In the end, before he could bring about the downfall of his enemy, he lost his own life at the hand of his supposed allies. And we, who look to Tyndale as our hero, cheer as the villain gets his just desserts. In contrast, Tyndale was a martyr who died for his belief and for his courageous acts for which we are greatly indebted.
And so, many of us might recognize the name William Tyndale. Chances are that we dearly love and cherish some of the beautiful words and phrases that he originated. Words like Atonement and birthright and phrases like still, small voice; Ye are the light of the world; Fear not, little flock; Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil; Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith; Knock and it shall be opened unto you; and Blessed are the poor in spirit. Ninety percent of the King James Version of the Bible is William Tyndale.But do we recognize the name Sir Thomas More? Probably not. Continuing the recognition game, how about these other words or phrases? Are we familiar with or do we even use these? Paradox, taunt, obstruction, shuffle, meeting, anticipate, monosyllable, pretext, not to see the wood for the trees, make the best of something, out of the frying pan into the fire, and a moon made of green cheese. We might not easily remember the name of their creator, but chances are we regularly say or hear these words. That means that without Sir Thomas More, instead of an iPod Shuffle, we might be jamming to our iPod Jumbles. Without More, we would only have multiple syllable words, which would make texting pretty hard. Without More, the moon might be made of red hot chili peppers instead of green cheese. However, without More there would be no obstructions holding us back in life, no paradoxes to sort out, no sibling taunting, and—best of all—no meetings to have to sit through. Sounds pretty good, right? A veritable Utopia? Hold on, there would be no Utopia without More, either--English Literature majors can back me up on that one. Believe it or not, we even sing the words of Sir Thomas More in our worship services(and I'll ask Irish Poetry majors not to back me up on this one...)!
But how can this be? In fairy tales, there’s never anything good to be said about the villain. We want to hate him. Any redeeming qualities in a villain would ruin the story for us.
But let’s look a little more deeply at More, this villain, this horrible man. Sir Thomas More, Lord Chancellor of England, was commanded by his king, Henry VIII, to sign his name to the Act of Succession, a document that suggested that the king was the rightful head of the Church of England. More firmly disagreed with this, owing to his firm testimony of the church’s authority in Rome, and refused to sign. His lands and estate were taken from him. He was imprisoned on charges of treason. And, finally, he was sentenced to death.Henry knew how the people admired More. He also knew of More’s faithfulness in defending the church and seeking to protect both the church and the throne from the disorder resulting from the Reformers’ dissidence. He did not really want to put him to death. In a play called “A Man for All Seasons” which depicts this story, King Henry sent More’s wife and his daughter Meg to see him in prison, hoping that they might urge him to take the oath. More’s daughter reminds her father that he had always taught her that God regards the heart and not the words of the lips. She begs him to “say the words of the oath and in your heart think otherwise.”
Sir Thomas replies, “What is an oath but words we say to God?” He then cups his hands and continues: “When a man takes an oath, Meg, he’s holding his own self in his own hands. Like water. And if he opens his fingers then—he needn’t hope to find himself again”Another character, a friend named Norfolk asks More, “Can’t you just do what I did, and come with us, for fellowship?”
Sir Thomas replies, “And when we stand before God, and you are sent to Paradise for doing according to your conscience, and I am damned for not doing according to mine, will you come with me, for fellowship?”
When Sir Thomas More approached the scaffold, condemned to beheading—a more humane death than that planned for his rival Tyndale, More spoke to his accusers (and these words were truly his and not those from a movie), “I verily trust, and shall therefore right heartily pray, that though your lordships have now here in earth been judges to my condemnation, we may yet hereafter in heaven merrily all meet together, to our everlasting salvation.”
For myself, at least, I’ve now ruined this story of William Tyndale and Sir Thomas More. I can’t hate the antagonist. He may have not had the same open mind and heart that Tyndale certainly had, but he had a good mind and a tender heart, nonetheless. We hear that in his words, those spoken and those put to paper.
So I must confess. The real reason for The Colony and for the plant in my mailbag audience was to provide some context so that I could share a few thoughts about one of my favorite hymns. (Yes, that letter was a plant… there probably aren’t any 16th Century European History majors tuning in to Sermons of the Heart. Though, whatever your major, I would love to read your comments and hear your feedback.)
My thoughts about this hymn go along so nicely with the story of Tyndale and More, men who both loved their God. The words mean so much more when you can think of their author as a misunderstood villain who had such a strong testimony of his convictions that, even though he was the cause of many martyrdoms, he himself became a martyr as he gave his life for this testimony... Only, as I prepared to publish my blog, I noticed one tiny little oversight in my research. The author of this hymn is Thomas Moore. Since you're all so much more observant than me, you're shouting out, "Mike, there's an extra 'o' in there!" Me? I'm thinking something a lot less intelligent, something like 'O' @#*%! A quick search on Wikipedia confirmed that, rather than the Lord Chancellor of England, Thomas Moore was a talented Irish poet.
Well, shoot, there goes my blog for this month! With a little less wind in my sails, I'm going to salvage what I can here and push forward, since these words do indeed fit so nicely with the story of Tyndale and More. And I personally will pretend that I never saw that Wikipedia article and go on believing they originated from a knight of the Anglican empire.
The hymn I’m referring to is called Come, Ye Disconsolate, and is perhaps as obscure to some as the name Sir Thomas More. We honestly don’t sing it that often. And personally, though I know the words by heart, I would have to break out my hymnbook to refresh myself with the melody. I know I’ve sung this hymn at least once. In fact, I’ve sung every hymn in the hymnbook at least once. As a teenager, we organized a Hymn Marathon and sang every verse of all 341 hymns on one Saturday. It took us many gallons of milk and juice, dozens of donuts, and over 13 hours. But we emerged victorious, voices mostly intact, and we all lived on to sing another day.I first really encountered this hymn a few years ago on a Rob Gardner album about the Mormon pioneers. Listening to the stories of the hardships those faithful men and women overcame, I was touched to hear this hymn as something of a concluding testimony to their faith just prior to arriving at the Great Salt Lake and finally finding a new home. Rob put Anacreon Thomas Moore’s words to an original tune that I know much better than the melody in the hymnbook. The words are beautiful in their simplicity (Listen to the song here--I guarantee it's worth your time!):
Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish,
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”
Here see the Bread of Life, see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove.
Come to the mercy seat, fervently kneel.
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish;
Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
Joy of the desolate, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure!
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying,
“Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”
Here see the Bread of Life, see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above.
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove.
It’s hard to not be touched when you hear a beautiful voice singing these beautiful words to a beautiful melody. And I am suddenly right there, hugging that wearied pioneer, holding Tyndale’s hand during his last few hours, and even wiping a tear after hearing Sir Thomas More’s final words to his friends. I am there because I, too, have felt disconsolate at times in my life. I, too, have felt anguish. My heart has been wounded, though, because of my natural man, it is often more of a self-inflicted injury than a war wound. We all have sorrows that need the healing touch of the Master’s hand. And just like those healing waters flowing forth from the throne of God, the Master’s love and tender mercy are in ample supply to bind up that which is broken and to strengthen that which is sick.
Can you close your eyes and see that wondrous scene? Fountains of pure water flowing everywhere, a mouth-watering feast of every delicacy you could possibly imagine waiting there for you, marvelous light so brilliant and white that you can barely open your eyes, a glorious throne—a mercy seat—upon which the Savior of the World, the Bread of Life, sits beckoning to you. Can you think of doing anything but fervently falling to your knees? And then you hear the Comforter’s tender words, “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”
I think this scene is that wondrous place that Sir Thomas More envisioned and described to his accusers, his friends, where they might one day be merrily reunited in everlasting salvation. As More waited for the axe to fall, as Tyndale felt the flames lick at his feet, as homeless Mormon pioneers huddled in worn blankets in the snow, and as I have wallowed through the most challenging and depressing moments of my life, I think that each of us has looked Heavenward and caught a vague glimpse of this scene. And the Holy Spirit has carried the words of the Comforter to us in our extremities, “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”
What wonderful words. But if you were to reread or listen again to that beautiful hymn of Thomas More, you might notice that each of the three verses ends differently. The three phrases, respectively, are, “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal,” “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure,” and “Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove.”
I have often wondered about these words. Hymns often have choruses that use repetition to help drive home a principle or a doctrine. So when there are subtle differences like this, the analyst in me perks up and wants to find out why. Since I can’t go to the author for clarification, I’ve been left to my own devices and to the inspiration of the Spirit to find some meaning. And I would like to share my thoughts on this with you.
There are three key words here: heal, cure, and remove. Now I’m no expert in the healing arts, and a licensed physician might have an entirely different perspective on this. But when I think about healing, I think about herbs and poultices, casts, and medicines. To me, healing is treating the symptoms of some ailment or illness. It provides comfort and relief from pain and strength to endure the affliction. It might not necessarily treat the cause of the illness but rather focuses on treating the effects of the illness. Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
Curing on the other hand is more than healing. To me, finding a cure, like the cure for cancer, is more than providing chemotherapy and some other treatment to slow or to stop the spread of a disease or to even overcome the disease itself. But cancer is still an illness that inflicts countless other individuals and families in the world. One day, we hope to find the cure for this disease rather than to just heal individuals one by one.
I am pretty much blind in both eyes. When I went to the eye doctor, he had me remove my glasses and cover up one eye and then asked me to read him the lowest line of letters I could see unaided. I told him I knew the top line was a single E from experience but I could not read it from this distance. He then had me slowly walk forward until that E became legible. Finally, as I hit the three-foot mark from the wall, the letter E magically became clear and I stopped. In retrospect, that experience was pretty humorous and “eye opening”, because I usually forget how dependent I am upon contacts or eyeglasses to be able to function in everyday life. These miraculous aids have literally healed me of my blindness. However, the Savior has power to completely cure man of afflictions like mine. Centuries before mankind would find a cure of its own in laser surgery, Jesus Christ showed the power of Heaven in wondrous miracles that truly and literally proved that “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”
We can look to wondrous technologies like laser eye surgery to testify that medicine has come a long way in finding cures to common illnesses. Through surgery, specialists can literally extract diseased tissues and organs and cure the most complex of problems. And these cures are often lasting, in that the ailment is truly conquered and does not return. But after surgery, the patient carries with him both literal and figurative reminders of the difficult past in the physical and the emotional scars that are left behind after the miraculous transformation. So when Sir Thomas More says, “Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove,” I find this the most powerful promise of the three. What does this mean? No scars! No surviving effects or remnants whatsoever of the past, other than the memory of what we’ve been through which serves to remind us of how we’ve been transformed and where we’re headed. That is the greatest miracle of all!
In a spirit of healing, Christ said, “Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.” Isn’t that absolutely wonderful? Elsewhere we read, “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.” From this, we learn that the blackest of sins can be completely removed as if they never were. We can drive countless nails into a post, pull them out, and the holes aren’t just filled in and patched, they are as if they never were. But we remember, and for good cause. I thank my God for the memory of my past misdeeds so that I can be a better man today because of the memory and the lessons learned. But the collateral damage and the nuclear fallout caused by an Atomic Mike are nonexistent. Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove.
To me, there is a difference in these three words: heal, cure, and remove. I’m grateful for those differences. The Master Physician has the power and the knowledge to accomplish all three ends. But like any good doctor, Jesus Christ counsels with us and allows us to ultimately decide which course of treatment we wish to pursue.
There are some patients who will elect to let the disease run its course. They’ve fought a good fight. But the difficulties and side effects of treatment to them are not worth the possibility of added months or years.
There are those who are frequenting the spiritual pharmacy, looking for home remedies and miracle drugs to ease their pain and their afflictions. Often, they find what they’re looking for and their burdens are lightened and they find the healing power of Heaven.
There are those who are looking for cures. One of my favorite quotes comes from Ezra Taft Benson, who said:
Finally, we must be willing to let go of the past. Christ is eager and ready to forgive. He is anxious to forget. Isn’t that great? But, as humans, though we might be able to forgive others, the very hardest people to forgive are ourselves. The Surgeon cannot remove the cancer without our consent. Again, He lets us decide how we wish to be treated. He is skilled. He will not make mistakes. There will be no scars or side effects. But this can only happen if we choose to let go and to not leave any scars of our own.
That Sir Thomas More, in his own right, was a pretty good man. Until I thought that I learned the author of this favorite hymn of mine, I found it pretty easy to vilify this “Javert” who so desperately sought to prevent the translation of my cherished King James Bible. But I’m grateful that I had the chance to learn a little more about More and to see his goodness and his humanity. And I’m grateful for this powerful lesson that he and an Irish poet have taught me.
Earth has no sorrow, but Heaven can remove. This very moment, I know which course of treatment I want for my sorrows and afflictions. The difficult part will be remembering the way I feel right now, thanks to this beautiful hymn, in those moments of trauma when I am faced with a difficult decision. Emotions and fears will get in the way, making it hard to see the wood for the trees and to remember that it is the Master Surgeon who will be my Primary Care Physician when I need Him most.
Can you close your eyes and see that wondrous scene? Fountains of pure water flowing everywhere, a mouth-watering feast of every delicacy you could possibly imagine waiting there for you, marvelous light so brilliant and white that you can barely open your eyes, a glorious throne—a mercy seat—upon which the Savior of the World, the Bread of Life, sits beckoning to you. Can you think of doing anything but fervently falling to your knees? And then you hear the Comforter’s tender words, “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”I think this scene is that wondrous place that Sir Thomas More envisioned and described to his accusers, his friends, where they might one day be merrily reunited in everlasting salvation. As More waited for the axe to fall, as Tyndale felt the flames lick at his feet, as homeless Mormon pioneers huddled in worn blankets in the snow, and as I have wallowed through the most challenging and depressing moments of my life, I think that each of us has looked Heavenward and caught a vague glimpse of this scene. And the Holy Spirit has carried the words of the Comforter to us in our extremities, “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”What wonderful words. But if you were to reread or listen again to that beautiful hymn of Thomas More, you might notice that each of the three verses ends differently. The three phrases, respectively, are, “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal,” “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure,” and “Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove.”
I have often wondered about these words. Hymns often have choruses that use repetition to help drive home a principle or a doctrine. So when there are subtle differences like this, the analyst in me perks up and wants to find out why. Since I can’t go to the author for clarification, I’ve been left to my own devices and to the inspiration of the Spirit to find some meaning. And I would like to share my thoughts on this with you.
There are three key words here: heal, cure, and remove. Now I’m no expert in the healing arts, and a licensed physician might have an entirely different perspective on this. But when I think about healing, I think about herbs and poultices, casts, and medicines. To me, healing is treating the symptoms of some ailment or illness. It provides comfort and relief from pain and strength to endure the affliction. It might not necessarily treat the cause of the illness but rather focuses on treating the effects of the illness. Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal.
Curing on the other hand is more than healing. To me, finding a cure, like the cure for cancer, is more than providing chemotherapy and some other treatment to slow or to stop the spread of a disease or to even overcome the disease itself. But cancer is still an illness that inflicts countless other individuals and families in the world. One day, we hope to find the cure for this disease rather than to just heal individuals one by one.
I am pretty much blind in both eyes. When I went to the eye doctor, he had me remove my glasses and cover up one eye and then asked me to read him the lowest line of letters I could see unaided. I told him I knew the top line was a single E from experience but I could not read it from this distance. He then had me slowly walk forward until that E became legible. Finally, as I hit the three-foot mark from the wall, the letter E magically became clear and I stopped. In retrospect, that experience was pretty humorous and “eye opening”, because I usually forget how dependent I am upon contacts or eyeglasses to be able to function in everyday life. These miraculous aids have literally healed me of my blindness. However, the Savior has power to completely cure man of afflictions like mine. Centuries before mankind would find a cure of its own in laser surgery, Jesus Christ showed the power of Heaven in wondrous miracles that truly and literally proved that “Earth has no sorrow that Heaven cannot cure.”We can look to wondrous technologies like laser eye surgery to testify that medicine has come a long way in finding cures to common illnesses. Through surgery, specialists can literally extract diseased tissues and organs and cure the most complex of problems. And these cures are often lasting, in that the ailment is truly conquered and does not return. But after surgery, the patient carries with him both literal and figurative reminders of the difficult past in the physical and the emotional scars that are left behind after the miraculous transformation. So when Sir Thomas More says, “Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove,” I find this the most powerful promise of the three. What does this mean? No scars! No surviving effects or remnants whatsoever of the past, other than the memory of what we’ve been through which serves to remind us of how we’ve been transformed and where we’re headed. That is the greatest miracle of all!
In a spirit of healing, Christ said, “Behold, he who has repented of his sins, the same is forgiven, and I, the Lord, remember them no more.” Isn’t that absolutely wonderful? Elsewhere we read, “Though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they are red as crimson, they shall be like wool.” From this, we learn that the blackest of sins can be completely removed as if they never were. We can drive countless nails into a post, pull them out, and the holes aren’t just filled in and patched, they are as if they never were. But we remember, and for good cause. I thank my God for the memory of my past misdeeds so that I can be a better man today because of the memory and the lessons learned. But the collateral damage and the nuclear fallout caused by an Atomic Mike are nonexistent. Earth has no sorrow but Heaven can remove.To me, there is a difference in these three words: heal, cure, and remove. I’m grateful for those differences. The Master Physician has the power and the knowledge to accomplish all three ends. But like any good doctor, Jesus Christ counsels with us and allows us to ultimately decide which course of treatment we wish to pursue.There are some patients who will elect to let the disease run its course. They’ve fought a good fight. But the difficulties and side effects of treatment to them are not worth the possibility of added months or years.There are those who are frequenting the spiritual pharmacy, looking for home remedies and miracle drugs to ease their pain and their afflictions. Often, they find what they’re looking for and their burdens are lightened and they find the healing power of Heaven.
There are those who are looking for cures. One of my favorite quotes comes from Ezra Taft Benson, who said:
"The Lord works from the inside out. The world works from the outside in. The world would take people out of the slums. Christ takes the slums out of people, and then they take themselves out of the slums. The world would mold men by changing their environment. Christ changes men, who then change their environment. The world would shape human behavior, but Christ can change human nature."What does this mean? If we give our whole self to the Master Surgeon, holding nothing back, He will cut out all of the bad; He will take the good and make it better. He will change our very natures and make us the best we can be, because He will help us become even as He is. But we must first allow Him to work His miracle. With this Surgeon of Surgeons, there is no such thing as experimental surgery; but it is, however, always an elective procedure.
Finally, we must be willing to let go of the past. Christ is eager and ready to forgive. He is anxious to forget. Isn’t that great? But, as humans, though we might be able to forgive others, the very hardest people to forgive are ourselves. The Surgeon cannot remove the cancer without our consent. Again, He lets us decide how we wish to be treated. He is skilled. He will not make mistakes. There will be no scars or side effects. But this can only happen if we choose to let go and to not leave any scars of our own.
That Sir Thomas More, in his own right, was a pretty good man. Until I thought that I learned the author of this favorite hymn of mine, I found it pretty easy to vilify this “Javert” who so desperately sought to prevent the translation of my cherished King James Bible. But I’m grateful that I had the chance to learn a little more about More and to see his goodness and his humanity. And I’m grateful for this powerful lesson that he and an Irish poet have taught me.
Earth has no sorrow, but Heaven can remove. This very moment, I know which course of treatment I want for my sorrows and afflictions. The difficult part will be remembering the way I feel right now, thanks to this beautiful hymn, in those moments of trauma when I am faced with a difficult decision. Emotions and fears will get in the way, making it hard to see the wood for the trees and to remember that it is the Master Surgeon who will be my Primary Care Physician when I need Him most.
The Lord is my light; the Lord is my strength.
I know in his might I’ll conquer at length.
My weakness in mercy he covers with pow’r,
And, walking by faith, I am blest ev’ry hour.
The Lord is my light;
He is my joy and my song.
By day and by night he leads,
He leads me along.
I know in his might I’ll conquer at length.
My weakness in mercy he covers with pow’r,
And, walking by faith, I am blest ev’ry hour.
The Lord is my light;
He is my joy and my song.
By day and by night he leads,
He leads me along.
