Stories for Ears to Hear
A Reimagining of the Parables of Jesus
by
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Sons of Privilege, Towers of Strength
(Picture # 1 here)
There was no way for the man to know this, but the large piece of metal that he was trapped under had recently belonged to the jet engine of a commercial airliner.
As he lay there in the prone position, his face pressed against the asphalt of the street and his arms spread out like a scarecrow, he could see the world in front of him in the same way that you would view a photograph turned sideways. He could vaguely make out feet and legs moving around him, and somewhere in the distance, he could hear the shrill noise of sirens. There was also the steady rainfall of paper all around him.
He watched as one piece of paper slowly made its way into his field of vision with its lazy, side-to-side downward motion, until it settled neatly onto his face, nestling perfectly just over his eyebrows and under his chin.
Panicking because his limited visual scope had just become completely obstructed, the man puffed out his cheeks and attempted to blow the piece of paper away from his face. But the heavy piece of metal debris pressing in on his torso prevented him from taking a necessary deep breath. What came out was more of a weak whistle than anything else. The bright morning sunlight on his face allowed for the viewing of shadowy shapes through the piece of paper, but despite this, his sensory deprivation was now almost complete.
He had started out this morning a few minutes late, his time exiting his home extended by his young daughter’s inability to find her school library book to return that day. He knew that it was under her bed, where they always put it after reading at bedtime. But he was determined to have her find it and retrieve it this time, because he wanted her to start to become responsible for her library loans.
When she came downstairs almost in tears from not being able to find it, he relented and helped her search her room for the book. It was not under the bed. And after thoroughly taking apart of her room, his wife found the book in his daughter’s backpack—the very place that his daughter had thoughtfully placed it earlier that morning and then forgotten about it. As he fought traffic and rushed to make train connections to avoid being late to work, he had no way of knowing that those lost ten minutes had saved his life.
Well, had saved his life so far.
As he lay there, he absentmindedly thought about the baseball game tickets that he had in his pocket. They had been a gift to the folks in his division from his boss for the completion of a recent deal. The whole group was planning on attending the game tonight after work, and he had been looking forward to it for almost a month. The game had playoff implications, and he had brought along a few dollars from the family’s “fun account” that was located in the piggybank near the front door of his house. He wanted to buy a T-shirt for his daughter to wear to “team jersey” day at her school.
His mind snapped back to the present and his predicament. He tried to take stock of what was happening to him. He took three shallow breaths and tried to clear his mind for just a second. The breaths hurt incredibly, and he wondered if maybe he had broken a few ribs. Back in high school, he had broken a rib playing soccer, and he remembered how difficult it had been to breathe. This felt like that, but a thousand times worse. His necktie was also draped across his face in what would have been an odd, gravity-defying position if he had been standing upright. The tie across his face had already been making his breathing more difficult when the piece of paper had arrived. If he could have moved his arms for just one second, he would have brushed the tie and paper away from his face. But his outstretched arms were pinned down like he was a butterfly in a collection somewhere.
Breathing and vision, he thought—two things you don’t really notice until they are gone.
Whatever was on top of him was heavy, but not so heavy as to crush him. So maybe he could get out from under this thing if he attempted to move just the right way. He tested his fingers and his toes and found to his relief that he could wiggle them, though not without causing sharp pains to his chest area. He also found that when he went to wiggle the fingers of his left hand, they were still curled around the handle of his briefcase.
When he had heard the initial explosion and the screaming, he did what comes natural to human beings. He ducked down behind a parked car, and that saved him. The flying chunks of debris ricocheted around once they had hit the street, and though he had not seen it, the piece of engine that was pinning him down should have killed him outright. But by the time it had made its way over to where he was crouched down, it had lost most of its killing momentum. It simply knocked him off his feet and against the side of the car before it came to its final resting place.
Well, that had saved him. So far.
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About the Book
When asked a question like “Who is my neighbor?”, Jesus often answered with a story. He did this because humans often see themselves in stories better than they do in direct answers. For instance, the universal situation of rescuing someone who is in desperate need on the side of the road somewhere, far from home, resonates with people down through the ages.
In Stories for Ears to Hear, Tincan Caldwell puts a modern spin on the parables of Jesus in an attempt to help the reader imagine what the heart of these stories would look like today. In his famous challenge before telling a parable, Jesus would encourage “those with ears to hear” to listen to his tales of prodigal sons, lost coins, victimized travelers on the road, and elaborate parties with no guests. In telling these stories, Jesus brought the sensibilities of heaven to the very real dusty highways and hills of his homeland.
In reimagining these classic parables (the parable of the good Samaritan set against the backdrop of the 9/11 tragedy, the parable of the unmerciful servant moved to a struggling record store, the parable of the talents reimagined in the world of a network reality show), Caldwell challenges readers to re-examine how heaven wants to invade the everyday stuff of life, like roads, parties, wayward sons, and the foundations we build our lives upon.
That makes for a great story any day.About the Author
Tincan Caldwell (or Alex Caldwell, as his driver’s license says) is a writer, reporter, freelance preacher, and stay-at-home dad who lives in Tilton, New Hampshire. He enjoys a hearty bowl of oatmeal, the band U2, the writings of John Steinbeck, the Boston Red Sox, and wearing a variety of nifty hats. He would like to thank his two pretty daughters, India and Ireland, and beautiful wife, Julie, for letting him make unusual career moves. Stories for Ears to Hear is his first book.