Cockroach Parable

 I came across a satirical piece on religion that I wrote some thirty years ago. Unfortunately, it seems just as relevant today as when it was first written.

Parable Exercise: The Virtues of Uncertainty (1992)

             There once was a man, otherwise quite unremarkable, who was distinguished by his indecision and uncertainty in matters which most other people considered of the greatest importance. When such a matter was under discussion and this uncertain man was asked his opinion, he would say only that he wasn't sure. When pressed as to whether he agreed with this or that theory or opinion which some other person was putting forward with great energy and conviction, he would only say, "Maybe, maybe not," or "Perhaps in some cases, but not in others." This kind of response made the uncertain man an object of not inconsiderable scorn, and eventually placed him in great danger.

            It so happened that in the time and place in which this uncertain man lived, there was great dissatisfaction and dissent among the people, their general prosperity notwithstanding. As a consequence, there arose various rival religious sects. Each bitterly denounced all the others, and declared itself to be the exclusive champion of truth, wisdom and justice. In this contentious fashion all of the rival parties were in considerable agreement, but to even discuss this with oneself in private, let alone in a public forum in the presence of other citizens, was considered extremely poor taste, and might even render a person liable to various highly unpleasant reprisals. The necessity of such punishments was another matter on which the rival groups found themselves in perfect agreement with one another, but to call attention to this point would subject one to even harsher reprisals.

            As each sect was always eager to enlist new converts in its unceasing struggles against its rivals, the uncertain man frequently found himself the recipient of the attentions of the representatives of one group or another, who sought to persuade the uncertain man to take up their cause. For instance, the group in favor of the abolition of most, though not all language once sent to him a spokeswoman who said to the uncertain man, "Surely you will concede that all too often, language is used to mislead and deceive people and stir up enmity between them." He responded,  "Perhaps in some cases, but not in others."

            She went on, "As a reasonable, intelligent person, you would have to agree that even much supposedly well-intentioned speech is frivolous and unproductive, as well as grammatically incorrect."  He replied, "Maybe, maybe not."

            The representative continued, "Then you will surely see the wisdom of our program for a ban on the 95% of language determined most offensive and injurious by our panel of experts, and the introduction of a hieroglyphic symbol-system, a copy of which each person would be required to carry with them at all times, enabling them to point to the necessary item at the relevant time, without causing offense to any class, gender, color, person or plant, fish, mineral or insect." The uncertain person answered only, "I'm not really sure." The spokeswoman from the group in favor of the abolition of most, though not all language left in a huff, cursing the uncertain man in no uncertain terms, and  displaying an impressive command of obscene, offensive and thoroughly vituperative language.

            As time went on, the number of such visitors calling on the uncertain man with hopes of converting him to their cause increased, as each group realized that the conversion of such a stubborn unbeliever would be an enormous public relations victory. 

            On one such occasion, a spokesman from the Society for the Glorification of Felines attempted to convince the uncertain man of the merit of eliminating all other forms of religion, even including gambling and spectator sports, in favor of mandatory cat worship. The representative argued that in contrast to the troubles and violent discords of the present time, spiritual peace and social harmony had been everyday experiences in ancient Egypt. The reason for this favorable state of affairs was that the people of the nation had understood that the cat was the living symbol of divinity, and had ordered their lives accordingly, worshipping the cat as intended by God, appointing a pharaoh to mediate between man, God and cat, and constructing pyramids in order to provide gainful employment for the masses.

            "And so you see," concluded the cat-worshipper, "that it is more or less a self-evident truth that a re-dedication to the enduring values of cat, pharaoh and pyramid is the only course of action that can save humanity from its headlong rush toward depravity and destruction." The uncertain man reflected for some time in silence, and the cat-worshipper was starting to feel guardedly hopeful when the uncertain man responded, "Maybe so, maybe not. I'm impressed by the passion of your conviction, and I'm sure you mean well, but that's no guarantee that you're completely right in all you say or that others are completely wrong. I am just an uncertain man, and I guess that's all I'll ever be."

            As the sects struggled amongst themselves, social conditions continued to deteriorate. Young people, seeing that their parents' and other adults' talk of `love', `peace' and other such ideals was no more than a hypocritical excuse for the daily practice of self-flattery, greed and intolerance, devoted themselves to materialism and violence, some even killing each other for a mere article of clothing. Older people, convinced that the nation's youth were ignorant, ungrateful and undeserving, refused to pay taxes, for fear that money would be wasted on social and educational programs for the young. When people turned to their religious leaders for guidance, all they found was a group of self-righteous fanatics, each eager to blame someone else for the problems of the day, while claiming a glorious future sure to come for the faithful.

            The sectarian rivalries became political and then military matters. Eventually, the leading clerics of the church of the Holy Cockroach, who worshipped the cockroach as the symbol of eternal life, by reason of its obvious hardiness and joie de vivre, as well as its reputed ability to withstand nuclear holocaust, seized power and began to persecute unbelievers. Citizens were arrested in the dead of night and brought before military tribunals, where they were asked but one question: "Do you believe in cockroaches?" Many people, unaware of the peculiar doctrines espoused by the Roachians and confused by the question, were unable to answer in the clear and unequivocal way expected of them, and instead responded with such questions as "What do you mean by `believe'?" or "Define `cockroach'". These poor souls, who had quite grievously overestimated their accusers' capacity for theological discussion, were executed on the spot.

            It happened that the uncertain man was summoned before such a tribunal and presented with the usual question. The uncertain man automatically responded in his usual uncertain way: "Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps in some cases, but not in others."            

            The Roachian clerics were taken back by this confident, ready response, as it seemed to suggest that a person could be aware of the divinity of the cockroach, and yet still be unwilling to devote their life to its worship. This possibility had never occurred to them, as previously they had thought that all those who had resisted affirming their simple creed must be devotees of the Antiroach, who were incapable of understanding the one true religion and who attempted to hide their actual, sinful convictions by dodging or debating The Question with fancy verbal trickery. Seriously facing for the first time the prospect of a belief which was neither completely identical nor totally opposed to their own, which seemed to share elements of their cherished convictions while differing on other points, the Roachians were thrown into confusion. The uncertain man was given a temporary stay of execution, while the elders of the church debated his case.

            Some believed that the uncertain man was the worst kind of heretic, bearing enigmatic words designed to gradually corrode their most essential doctrines, and that in light of the danger which he represented, he should be crushed like a bug, without delay. Others saw the uncertain man as a former believer who had fallen victim to confusion, and should be re-educated in the principles of the one true religion, so that he might again receive the grace of the divine insect.

            Still others saw the uncertain man as a prophet in disguise, come to reveal the further teachings of the cockroach. They saw his strange response to The Question, full of qualifications and ambiguity, as evidence of a deeper understanding of the inner mysteries of the insect, and they begged him for instruction. "Tell us," they asked the uncertain man, "what do you mean by the words, `perhaps in some cases, but not in others'? Does this mean that there are some cockroaches who deserve our worship, others who don't, some who are divine, some who are not?"

            The uncertain man responded, "Maybe, maybe not."

            "Do you mean it is impossible to discern the truth without first developing deeper spiritual insight?"

            "Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps in some cases, but not in others."

            "Do you mean that different people should worship different cockroaches? Are these different roaches one or many? What of the benighted lands where there are no cockroaches?"       

            The dialogue continued in this manner, with each uncertain statement of the uncertain man provoking further theological dilemmas among the Roachians. As a result of the ensuing roachological debates, the Roachians renounced their dictatorship and withdrew to the countryside to meditate on the further mysteries of their religion. Leaving the city, they issued a proclamation apologizing for the several hundred thousand murders which they had committed, explaining that it was all just a theological misunderstanding about the nature of salvation and the relationship of eschatology to entomology. They promised that it wouldn't happen again, at least not until the end of time, when the Roach Messiah would return in glory to usher in the metamorphosis of the blessed.

            The uncertain man, who previously had been an object of scorn for his noncommittal approach to religious matters, was now honored as a hero by a population grateful to have been delivered from the Roachian holocaust. There was now one question foremost in the minds of the people: Should they again practice religion, or should they abolish it, considering their recent traumatic experience?  The uncertain man was consulted for his learned opinion, and he replied merely, "Maybe, maybe not. Perhaps in some cases, but not in others."