The Parable Of The Eagle Who Thought He Was a Chicken

Here is a colorful allegory I sometimes use when I am mentoring young people. It parallels many truths.

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THE PARABLE OF THE EAGLE WHO THOUGHT HE WAS A CHICKEN

The gray ferret, Wagraye, was the most wicked animal in the hundred-mile forest. His crimes included stealing bird's eggs and kidnapping baby bunnies. He would break up the beaver's dam for no other reason than mischief and steal the squirrel's nuts out of meanness. He was a murderer who would kill not out of necessity but for the pleasure of it.

The Great Eagle was the King of the Skies, and he despised the Grey Ferret. As he flew above the forest guarding over the innocent creatures, he would search for the ferret so he may put a halt to the evil the malicious animal would do. The noble eagle hopped the ferret would repent of his wicked deeds and turn to do good, but sometimes the King of the Skies wished disaster would befall the ferret, so he watched and waited.

One day the wicked ferret went too far and, for entertainment, attacked a squirrel's nest, hurting and maiming the baby squirrels. The eagle dove from the skies like a flaming angel of vengeance. His battle cry was a scream of living fury and spread terror over the forest. The ferret dodged the razor claws of justice and, shouting his own war cry, turned to attack. Many ferrets joined him, and a great battle was fought across the grassy meadow. Dozens of ferrets swarmed over the eagle, trying to overwhelm him by their many numbers. The eagle slashed and bit, bringing death to many.

The brawl ended without warning when the bloodied ferrets fled to holes and hideaways. The eagle stood alone on a black stump of a tree in the midst of the blood-stained meadow. Scattered all about the eagle lay ferrets; many dead and many more whimpering with broken bones and gushing wounds.

"You will pay for this attack!" The Grey Ferret yelled from a hole in the ground.

"You will pay for all the wrongs and evils you have done, Ferret." The eagle cried.

"Payment? What justice is this when you have slain my children, my clan, and my wife."

"It's no more than you have done to so many innocent creatures. Stay in your hole and never come out to do mischief again, or my vengeance will be a hundredfold." The eagle spread his great wings and swooped into the sky.

"I'll teach you about vengeance." Muttered the bitter ferret. He slithered out of his hole, and without a look at the injured and dead ferrets that covered the meadow, he stalked off to carry out revenge. The ferret traveled to the heart of the hundred-mile wood to a rocky mountain that rose like a ship sailing on a sea of forest. He climbed the rocky sides and scurried up cliffs. Day and night, he climbed, ignoring the heat until he reached the top far above the green forest. At the very pointed top of the mountain was the nest of the Great Eagle. In the nest was a single egg; it would hatch a son who would be the Prince of eagles and take his place as King of the skies one day. The ferret waited, and when the eagle soared away, the ferret, like a master thief, stole the egg.

"I said I would get my revenge," he muttered gleefully to himself.

Down the cliff face, he ran, jumped, and scampered. The ferret recklessly bounded over rocks and slid down gravely dusty paths. All the while, he cradled the egg with as much love as a mother. It must not be hurt during the crazed descent. Not until the ferret came under the shadow of the many forest trees did he stop to rest. It was then that he heard the cry of the King Of The Skies. "Ferret! You have killed my son. You will pay for this wrong!"

"It is you who will pay." The vile rodent muttered. He slithered through bushes and under trees carrying the egg as if it were gold. Quickly and silently, the ferret padded through the forest to its very edge and looked across the asphalt road to the Land of Man. Waiting until dark, he crossed the road to a familiar place, the chicken farm.  The ferret had often entered by a secret way to steal and eat the eggs. This time he did not come to steal and eat an egg; he left an egg. The eagle's egg was lovingly placed in a chicken's nest in the chicken house.

"Now, my ladies, take good care of this one." He hissed to the chickens cowering in the corner. "It is a payback for the ones I took before. Teach him everything you know, make him the most chicken of all chickens there ever was."  The ferret slid like oil out into the night.

The eagle sought the murderer for many days. Every day he felt the gash of grieving in his heart. How he vowed to deliver justice! From the first hint of sunrise to the final dimness of dusk, his piercing eyes roved the forest hungry for any sight of the despised one. At last, he saw the villainous rodent sunning himself boldly on a rock. With rage, the eagle swooped down from the sky and snatched the ferret in his claws.

"I got you now, you son of evil!" the eagle cried. "At last, you shall pay for the death of my Son."

"Fool of a turkey you are, your son lives. Kill me. You will never know where."

"You lie."

"No. Let me live, and I will tell you where you will find your son."

"Tell me first, and I will decide."

"No. I will tell you after you set me down safely."

The eagle seeing the ferret, was stubborn and will not tell, took him to a high rock above the forest like a spike. Setting down the ferret where it could not escape, the King of the Skies demanded, "Here, I have set you down. Now tell me where my son is."

"Ha! I am the winner! Your son is in the land of man, in a chicken house. He is living with the chickens and thinks he is one. Your son will never fly. He will never rule at your side. He will be a freak and laughed at by all creatures because he thinks he is a chicken. Your son will never be an eagle."

The King of the Skies let out a painful cry that was heard across the hundred-mile forest. "Enjoy your rock." Raising his wings, he lifted himself away. The ferret ran to the edge of the rock to see the sides were smooth as glass and too steep to climb down to the distant forest far below. Back and forth across the rock, the ferret ran looking for a way down but now found none.

"Your majesty, my Lord and King, you have done me wrong; you stranded me on this rock! I can't get down. I will perish up here."

"Ha! We have both kept our word; you told me where my son is, and I set you down safely. I will find my son, and you will find justice." The great eagle flew away as the trapped ferret ran back and forth vainly, seeking a way down.

Driven by the passion, the great eagle flew across the forest, covering the many miles in a short time. From high in the clouds, his keen eyesight soon found the chicken farm. He saw the Prince of eagles, a lone large brown bird among hundreds of white, silly, foolish chickens. The Prince was scratching in the dirt just like a chicken, plucking at bugs and grain thrown by the farmer.

The King of the Skies called for his son to come to the heavens and join him as ruler of the skies. Over and over, he called. The Prince heard only the clucks of the chickens; a senseless noise he made for no reason except the hundreds of chickens around him did it. He never learned the language of eagles, so his father's words were nonsense to him.

Every day the King of the Skies would fly above the chicken farm calling his son. He watched as the Prince became more and more like a chicken.  The Prince ran when the chickens ran, he ate what the chickens ate, he slept when the chickens slept. It broke the heart of the King of the Skies a hundred times over.

The Prince was an eagle who thought he was a chicken because he knew nothing else. His heart had the fire to be something other than a chicken. He sensed he was meant to be more. He knew a bird such as him was not meant to live in the dirt and scratch the ground for bugs and eat corn like the foolish little birds around him.

The Prince tried to fulfill this inner prompting by attempting to be the ruler of the chickens. He was a prince even though he didn't know it and something deep inside him told him he should bring justice and order to the scattered-brained chickens. His efforts were wasted, for they were oblivious to his promptings to do right, and they rejected his rule. When he tried to lead them, they turned on him by the hundreds, pulling his feathers out and pecking at his exposed flesh with their hard pinching beaks.

The King of Eagles saw this attempt at fulfillment and grieved deeply for his son's frustration.

The Prince felt he was meant for more than a chicken coop. He tried to woo and win the favor of the chickens. He tried to romance the chickens and compete with the roosters. He was rejected by the chickens and becoming a source of jokes among the rosters. The Prince found a corner of the chicken yard and sulked by himself, sad and alone.

The King of Eagles saw this and cried out in grief for the Prince's disappointment.

The Prince felt deep inside that he should be more than a bird sulking in a corner; he felt others were supposed to look up to him. He tried to be popular. Seeing one of the roosters clowning around, he thought he would try to be a clown. He told jokes to the chickens and tried to do tricks to amuse them. But eagles do not have a sense of humor, and his tricks looked awkward, for eagles were made for majesty, not for comedy. He went back to the corner of the yard and felt sorry for himself.

The King of The Skies saw this from far above, and his heart broke again for his son.

The Prince lifted his wings and wondered what they were and why. He had a feeling deep in his heart that these wings were for majestic glory.  He flapped them while squatting in the chicken yard. Something felt right, but he didn't know what. He was afraid to wave his beautiful wings since none of the chickens ever did. As the chickens slept, he hopped out in the chicken yard to flap his wings secretly but felt guilty as if he was breaking a rule. His guilt began to weigh him down until he gave into it and tucked his wings in.

The King of the Skies watched daily and daily mourned for what his son was becoming.

The Prince climbed the top of the chicken house. He spread his wings. "Watch everybody, I am going to fly." A few chickens looked around momentarily at his appeal. The Prince leaned over the side of the house with spread wings and tumbled to the ground. Chickens ran around laughing. The Prince went to the corner of the yard and felt sorry for himself.

The King of the skies could take it no longer.

The following dawn, the sun rose over the chicken yard and shown on something new. When the chickens went into the yard, a great bird sat in the midst of it. They kept away from this stranger. The Prince looked at the great bird. "What a beautiful bird!" I wish I could be like him.

The beautiful bird said, "Son, I've come."  But the Prince did not understand the language of the eagles since the only language he heard was the cluck, cluck, cluck of silly chickens. The King repeated, "Son, I've come to show you how to be what you are meant to be."   The awesome beauty of the commanding voice of the King terrified the Prince.

The King of Eagles lived among the chickens with the Prince for many seasons. The Prince admired the great bird, though the chickens feared him. The King of the skies was patient with all. Day by day, he spoke to the Prince. The language of eagles was beautiful to the Prince; every sound would make his heart jump. Trying the sounds felt right, and: slowly, over time, his understanding of the eloquent commanding language of great birds grew.

The King of Eagles began a daily routine of exercise in the middle of the chicken yard by flapping his huge wings, sending dust high into the yard.  The Prince would copy this, and together they would flap their wings like two dancers. The Prince felt dormant urges to fly bubble up from his soul as his wings grew firm and strong.

The Prince began to feel that he was becoming what he was meant to be. He began to suspect that there was joy somewhere in the world, and he might find it.

The King of Eagles taught the Prince the way of the noble eagle. He taught about honor and integrity. He spoke of guiding the forest creatures well. He taught about the need to for a ruler to be fair and just. The more the Prince learned about justice, protecting the weak creatures, and avenging the victims, the more he felt his purpose was near.

After many seasons, the King said to the Prince, "Bird, do you know why you are here?"

"I am a chicken, and chickens stay here."

"No. You are meant to be an eagle. You are meant to rule from the skies to be the bringer of justice and enforce fairness in the hundred-mile wood."

These words sounded like golden sunlight to the Prince's heart.

"But I am in a yard. I sleep in a chicken house. I live with the chickens."

"You are the Prince of the Skies stolen from my nest by a foe. I have taught you all I can teach here. You must follow me to take your true place in the skies." So the Great Eagle spread awesome wings and swept himself into the sky. "You must follow me to take your true place."

The Prince hesitated. The chicken farm was home; it was near, familiar, and he had a corner where he could sit and feel sorry for himself.

From above, the King called down, "You are meant to be an eagle. If you don't follow me, you will be a chicken, yet not a chicken, forever."

The Prince looked at the blue sky. It was so big, so far away; there was no ground, fence, or chicken house. He hesitated. Around him were hundreds of chickens, scratching in the dirt, pecking for corn and bugs. It was a safe place, and he knew it well.

The King of Eagles said one last word. It would be his final. "Come!"

The Prince felt the word echo to his core. "Come," resounded into his heart as if there was no other word in creation. "Come." He heard the call of his father, and he answered. He answered with a true eagle's scream that sent all the chickens fleeing like white tumbleweeds to the corners of the yard. Alone in the center of the chicken yard, he lifted wings and stretched his mighty wings up, and swept them back with power. He felt his body, soul, and heart lift from the earth, and with strong beats of his wings, he left the yard and the chickens behind forever. Rising up, up, up, he became the Prince of the Skies.

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This allegory illustrates how we sense a need for more in our lives. We were made for better things than to be scratching in the dirt of the earth for meager trinkets. But we need someone to rescue us and bring us to the place we belong. 

If you want to know how Jesus can rescue, follow this link: Salvation.

(C) Adron Dozat 7/14/12

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The Prince Who Forgot What He Was - A parable for 1 John 3:1

This parable is one I wrote for a lesson for my Sunday Morning Class. I hope you are inspired by it. I had to give this one a happy ending as I hope all of us realize our blessings in God.

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There was once a wise and good king whose heart was devoted to the people. His policies enabled full crop harvest, markets to flourish, industry to abound, and trade to grow. Because of the king's wisdom and vision roads, bridges, hospitals and schools were established. From lowest to highest all subjects of this noble king lived healthy and happy lives during a peaceful and golden age.
       As the King grew older, people worried what would happen when he died, "Who will rule then," they asked, "and would they continue his good works?" So, the king announced that when he turned 60 he would name his successor. He had many choices, his son, Prince Marcus Titus, or his nephew, Duke Frederick. There was another who sought the power of kingship, the king's half brother Prince Lester, an evil and cruel man who was known as the Black Earl.
      However, the youthful Prince Marcus, was the favored choice. Like his father his heart was for the good of the people. He wanted to build hospitals, orphanages, schools, and to make people’s lives even better. His ideas would make the country more prosperous and the people more wealthy than ever.      Duke Frederick was a bitter man. Vain and self seeking, he felt slighted by the circumstances of life and wanted the place of ruler. He was unpopular, except for those who spent their time in drinking houses and adventuring over the countryside.
      The king's birthday came and he announced Prince Marcus would succeed as king. All people in the land rejoiced- all except Duke Frederick. Slinking away to one of the drinking houses he and his foul friends drank themselves into a bad mood
      “I wish I could poison that uppity, smart, pup of a prince!”Duke Frederick complained to his table of cronies
      “No, that won’t do." His friends cautioned, "Prince Marcus is healthy, poison will be found out. It will be the gallows for us all.”
      "I know who might help you." Suggested one of the surly drunk men at the table. "The crazy old hermit who lives in the hills. He is always brewing up some poison or another. Maybe he has a drug that will do the trick. Something to only kind-of kill the prince."
      "Excellent idea!" Said the Duke, "I will see this mad hermit straight away."       That night Duke Frederick rode into the dark thickly forested hills and found the Mad Hermit’s hut. The mad hermit was an old man with a white beard who wore animal skin robes.       “I want to ruin the prince. I want people to hate him,” sneered the Duke.
      “I have just the thing,” the hermit said. “It is an amnesia poison- it will push back his memories.”       “So the prince will forget everything? Will he be an ignorant fool?”
      “No; it is very selective, causing one to remember some things and forget others. He will remember he is Prince Marcus but will forget what a prince is, and how to be a prince. He will remember his name and that he will be king, but he will forget what it means. He will not act with the prince’s authority or confidence. When he stops behaving like a prince the people will despise him.”       “Great, but will it wear off?”
      “No, but it may be undone. You must remove all reminders that he is a prince, such as his royal robes, royal seat next to the king’s throne, crown, signet ring, royal sword. Any symbol of what he is must be taken away; for just touching anything that represents his true identity will undo my drugs effect."
      The next morning Duke Frederick saw an opportunity to drug the prince. Each dawn Prince Marcus would practice with the soldiers in the parade field before breakfast, and the soldiers loved him for it.After an hour of sword, lance, archery and combat drills, the prince would take breakfast with these men. While Prince Marcus was exercising at arms of war Duke Frederick stole into his rooms and took anything that was royal. He replaced the royal robes with common folk's clothing, the royal sword with a walking stick, the crown with a felt hat. Duke Frederick stole into the hall of judgment and replaced the prince's throne with a milkmaid's stool.
      Finally, the Duke went to the kitchens and found the soldier's breakfast. Taking the serving cart he wheeled the breakfast to the men and the prince. With a sly hand he slipped the drug into the prince's food.
      “Cousin, are you serving us breakfast?” Prince Marcus exclaimed when he saw the Duke putting the plate of porridge, cheese, ham and eggs before him.
      “If my Lord can honor the guard with sword practice can I not honor my prince and his companions as a servant?”
      “Well said Duke." The prince replied. "Those who wish to lead well must also serve well.”       The prince ate his poisoned meal, and was affected by it immediately. Joking in a rude common way with the men, he made thoughtless remarks like, “Sergeant, If I had a mustache like yours I would shave it off right away and my lip too." The men were offended. The prince stood up and without a salute left the puzzled men.
      His rooms seemed different but with his mind fuzzy by the drug he didn't know why. He put on the rags, hat and strapped on the sword belt. In the sheath was a walking stick. “What should I do with this thing? Maybe I should take a walk. After all it is a walking stick.” Near the door now sat common workers tools, a pheasant's bag and a fishing pole, the drugged prince took them and went out.
      Dressed in the common clothes he left the castle ignoring the guards who saluted him. These guards, too, were hurt at this and offended. On the streets people cheerfully waved at him but he sauntering on not waving back. People wondered at this changed behavior and appearance. He spent the day fishing at the river, catching a few small fish then wandered through the city, to find a fish market, and sold them.
      "Do you know the way back to my home?" He asked the fish monger.
      "Why your highness, take the road to the top of the hill, your castle is there."
      At the castle he wandered around and finally went to bed, but with a mind affected by the poison, he slept in the stables with the horses. "How I wish I had a real room and a real bed instead of straw in a stable."
      The next morning a servant shook him awake. "Prince Titus, the king needs you in the hall of judgment." Following the servant to the hall he stood lost and confused in the crowd until someone told him to sit next to the king. A servant went to the alcove to bring the throne but found the milk maid's stool. So, the prince sat next to the king on the milk maids stool.
      "Where is the prince's throne?" Everybody asked. "Has he become a clown- or a fool? Is it some political statement that he sits on the milk stool? Has he joined the anarchists?"
     Prince Marcus sat looking around unsure of himself and feeling wrong like he didn't belong. Next to him was his father, the king, but he didn't think of him as either father or king, just someone sitting next to him.
     The great hall doors opened and in strode three warriors in black armor, ambassadors from the king's brother, Lester, The black Earl. "Your brother, the Earl, request you send right away grain, beef, and gold to pay for his service and his troops for guarding the western frontier.
     The king turned to Duke Frederick. "Nephew how do you counsel we should answer the ambassadors from my brother?"
     Duke Frederick smiled inside, seeing his opportunity to ruin the prince. "Your majesty, what counsel has Prince Marcus? Is he not among the captains of your guard? It is time he proved his worth in such matters."
     Almost blind from age the King did not see the prince dressed in commoner's clothes and sitting on a milk stool. "Prince Marcus, what answer should we give these three men."
     Staring open mouthed at the three dread warriors with their mighty weapons and arrogant attitudes, he blurted out. "I don’t know! Just look at these men, they are fearsome. Give them anything they want!" He fled out of the throne room casting a terrified look over his shoulder at the warriors. Those who witnessed his fear lost respect for his leadership.
     Later that day the three warriors departed, hurrying away to tell their master the earl that leadership in the kingdom had collapsed.
     The guards grumbled that Prince Marcus failed to practice arms with them. People were upset that he had lost his friendly manner, and castle servants mocked him.
     Prince Marcus often wandered around the castle looking for something to eat. "I wish I could have decent food to eat." Even though he was the prince and the greatest chefs would cook anything he wanted, he scoured the scraps out of the dog's bowls then sat on a stair step and ate greasy mush with his fingers. Often he slept in the stables, and sometimes in the courtyard; he wandered the city, lonely and friendless during these days. Seeing noble people riding fine horses he longed to be one, even thought he already was. Watching people wearing fine clothes he wished for some not realizing his were in the castle. He would want better things than the commoners rags but felt they were never to be his.      The Black Earl, assured of the weakness in leadership, marched his black steel clad men into the city. The king was too old to lead solders in battle, and Duke Frederick was too cowardly.
     Prince Marcus was at the river fishing when the invaders rode past in their armor and horses"How I wish I could be one of them." He thought. "I wish I could ride a horse and wear armor. I wish I had a gallant sword to wield against a foe. I wish I knew how to do such things and be such a man." He had forgotten he was a prince and a captain of solders.
     The invaders conquered the leaderless army in an hour and imprisoned the king in the castle dudgeon.
     The prince wandered the streets begging food, lost among refugees.      Earl Lewis began to rob the country starting with the castle. The royal treasure was stacked high on carts to carry back to the Black Earl's estate.Treasure laden carts creaked as they rumbled down the street. The city's broken people wept to see the country’s treasure leaving, it was as if hope and the future was being taken away.
     The prince stood,feeling small in the crowd, wishing something would happen, wishing to be able to lead, inspire and save the country. Watching in despair as carts rumble over the cobbled streets.
      The Black Earl's solders and horsemen crammed the street. They moved slowly and cautiously as wagons groaned under the weight of the great wealth of gold and silver.An axle broke, shearing a wooden wheel off and the wagon tumbled on its side, casting treasures among the crowd.
     "Pick those things up, you beggars!" the Earl's soldier yelled. And;pile them next to the cart while we fetch a black smith." Prince Titus shuffled among impoverished people and began to pick up spilled treasure. A box lay on it's side. Under it was something strange and familiar. He shoved the box upright and there in the mud was his own royal sword. He picked it up and something happened. Feeling the sword hilt in his hand had a familiarity to him. His arm felt the weight of the blade, like a good old friend. Raising the sword, his eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched in a face now set with a warriors hardness. He remembered.
     Leaping on the fallen cart he yelled out. "To arms! To arms all faithful men! Archers to the roofs. Knights of the guard rally to me! Bar the city gates let none of the black army escape." When people saw his attitude and courage they recognized he was the prince. A battle cry spread through the narrow streets and the city rose to combat. Narrow crowded streets were not the open fields the Earl's army trained for. Archers rained arrows upon them and the people overwhelmed the trapped army. Victory was swift and complete.
     Duke Frederick's poison was found out, and he was imprisoned, the Black Earl fled to live in exile. Prince Titus Marcus was named Regent and ruled until the king died in peace and then was crowned King. He ruled wisely and with vision for many years and his rule was a blessed golden age in the history of that land. When visitors to the Hall of Justice wondered at the fishing pole leaning against the king's throne, King Marcus Titus would say, "We all must never forget who we truly are and always act accordingly."

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Many Christians know they are given riches, blessings, and son-ship but never act on it. They say "Yes, I am a Christian." But they don’t realize what it means. We need to know who we are, not who we feel we are, or who other people say we are. As Christians we are given position, the Holy Spirit, gifts, blessings, fruit, relationship and much, more, we must avail ourselves of it.
"How great is the love the Father has lavished upon us that we should be called the sons of God!"" 1 John 3:1a, NIV
(c) Adron