I have never been big on New Year’s resolutions. I guess there are many reasons why it is traditional that we start a fresh new year with new plans and goals, but truly being resolved to improve oneself should not be relegated to one day each year. However, in the absence of a 365 day commitment to improving one’s life, doing so on one day is better than nothing.
The most popular New Year’s resolutions seem to center around our physical self. “I want to lose weight, exercise more, earn more money, enjoy more things,” are common goals chosen. However, assuming January 1st is a great time to become resolved to make a concerted effort to improve oneself in the coming year, I embrace the words of G.K. Chesterton that “the object of a new year is not that we should have a new year. It is that we should have a new soul.”
So in that spirit, here is a parable that had its origins in a school reader from the mid-nineteenth century. The story warns against living to serve certain selfish preoccupations. We all have rocks that burden us as we journey through life. Rather than letting go of an old year and replacing it with a new, this story speaks to letting go of the old baggage that holds us from ascending to life’s summit – a great resolution for a New Year or any time of year.
It was in the confines of the desert, amid barren and almost inaccessible rocks, that Ben Achmet, the Dervish, led a life of austerity and devotion. A cave in the rock was his dwelling. Roots and fruits, the scanty products of the sterile region he inhabited, satisfied his hunger, and the fountain that bubbled up from the lower part of the neighboring cliff slaked his thirst.
He had once been a priest in a magnificent mosque, and had scrupulously conducted the ceremonies of the Islamic faith. But seeking a life of total devotion, he abandoned the mosque and his authority as a priest, betaking himself to the desert to spend his days as a hermit.
Years rolled over the head of Ben Achmet, and the fame of his sanctity spread abroad. He often supplied the traveler of the desert with water from his little well. In times of pestilence, he left his solitary abode to attend to the sick and comfort the dying in the villages that were scattered around. Often did he stanch the blood of the wounded Arab and heal him of his wounds. His fame spread; his name inspired veneration, and even the plundering nomad gave up his booty at the command of Ben Achmet, the Dervish.
Akaba was an Arabian robber. He had a band of lawless men under his command, ready to do his bidding. He had a treasure house stored with ill-gotten wealth, and a large number of prisoners. The sanctity of Ben Achmet arrested his attention; his conscience smote him on account of his guilt, and he longed to be as famed for his devotion as he was for his crimes.
He sought the abode of the Dervish, and told him of his desires.
“Ben Achmet,” he said, “I have five hundred thieves ready to obey me. I have a number of slaves at my command. And I have a goodly treasure house filled with riches. Tell me how to add to these the hope of a happy immortality.”
Ben Achmet led him to the base of a neighboring cliff that was step, rugged, and very high. Pointing to three large stones that lay near together, he told Akaba to lift them from the ground, and to follow him up the cliff.
Akaba, laden with the stones, could scarcely move. To ascend the cliff was impossible.
“I cannot follow thee with these burdens, Ben Achmet,” Akaba cried.
“Then cast down one of the stones,” replied the Dervish, “and hasten after me.”
Akaba dropped one of the stones but still found himself too heavily burdened to proceed.
“I tell thee it is impossible,” moaned the robber chieftain. “Thou thyself could not proceed a step with such a load.”
“Let go another stone, then,” replied Ben Achmet.
Akaba readily dropped another stone and, with great difficulty clambered up the cliff for a while. But soon, exhausted from the effort, he again cried out that he could go no further.
Ben Achmet directed him to drop the last stone, and no sooner had he done this than he mounted the remaining distance with ease and soon stood with the Dervish on the summit of the cliff.
“Son,” said Ben Achmet, “thou hast three burdens which hinder thee in thy way to a better world. Disband thy troops of lawless plunderers. Set thy prisoners free. Restore thy ill-gotten wealth to its owners. For it is easier for Akaba to ascend this cliff with the stones that lie at its foot than for him to journey onward to a better world with lust for power, pleasure, and riches in his possession.”
Lastly, here is a wonderful prayer that certainly seems apropos when seeking guidance as to what “rocks” we should strive to remove this New Year and every day:
Grant me, O Lord, to know what I ought to know,
To love what I ought to love,
To praise what delights Thee most,
To value what is precious in Thy sight,
To hate what is offensive to Thee.
Do not suffer me to judge according to the sight of my eyes,
Nor to pass sentence according to the hearing of the ears of ignorant men;
But to discern with a true judgment between things visible and spiritual,
And above all, always to inquire what is the good pleasure of Thy will.
Have an AWE-full weekend and New Year!
William J. “Bill” Bacque