Living Apostolic in San Antonio

The Official Blog of Alamo City Apostolic Church

Of Strawberries, Gooseberries and Giants


Once upon a time there were twelve men who set out to conquer a new land.

The twelve came from very different backgrounds, but they all had one thing in common: they were very good at fighting giants. Which was a good thing, since the land they set out to conquer was inhabited by very evil, bad-tempered giants.

Wally was one of the twelve, and a right fine swordsman he was. He and his eleven friends would sit around the campfire at night and whet their limited-edition giant-slaying swords, polishing and honing them lovingly. They would drill by the hour, sharing tips and techniques on fencing. Each of them had unique giant-slaying skills, and by sharing them with each other, all twelve made daily progress toward being even better giant-slayers.

Giant-slayers are of necessity very opinionated and decisive, and Wally was certainly no exception. One thing he hated above all other things was strawberries. He was certain that no one who ate strawberries was a real man or could ever be trusted in a battle against evil giants. Furthermore, he took it for granted that all eleven of his companions shared his loathing for this unholy fruit, since nobody spoke up to the contrary when he and his dearest friend, Philo, would pontificate far into the night about how pernicious strawberries were.

One day, however, he observed one of the twelve reaching down, picking a wild strawberry and popping it in his mouth. At first he stood there speechless…then, overwhelmed by white-hot fury, he let out a screech of rage and whipped his sword out of his scabbard. With lightning-fast speed, he began to run his sword through his companion, with Philo matching him thrust for thrust from the other side. The other nine, not really knowing what was happening but certain that Wally and Philo knew what they were doing, soon fell on their hapless companion with their swords as well. Even after the local coroner had dragged the shredded body of their erstwhile friend away, they trembled in righteous indignation and shook their fists at the departing corpse.

“How did he ever get in the group, anyway?” mumbled Wally, distressed at such an obvious lapse of security.

Disturbingly, this scenario was repeated over and over again, as over the course of time Wally or Philo would discover yet another surreptitious strawberry eater within the ranks of the (originally) twelve. And finally the day came when only Wally and Philo themselves were left.

“Well, Philo, not too many people have what it takes to be a real giant-slayer nowadays, do they?” asked Wally with a sad shake of his head as he swallowed a gooseberry and spat out the stem.

But Philo didn’t answer. Instead, his face was transformed into a grimace of incredulous shock and rage.

GOOSEBERRIES???” he screamed. “You eat GOOSEBERRIES????? What kind of giant-slayer eats gooseberries? You’re no giant-slayer at all. You’re a dirty traitor!!!”

The last thought Wally had as he lay on the ground with Philo’s sword through his bowels, just before the mist turned to blackness, was, “But I didn’t know there was anything wrong with gooseberries…we never talked about them………….”

Philo trudged on into the unknown land, head down, staring at the ground. Secretly, he felt kind of lonely without his friends, but he’d never admit that out loud. Of course he’d done the right thing. There could simply be no tolerance of strawberries – or gooseberries – among giant-slayers.

Speaking of giant-slayers…for the first time he noticed the shadows that obscured the sun. He looked up, and cold, nauseous fear gripped him. All around him were evil giants, and their intentions were obvious. They were coming for him. Realizing he was far outnumbered, he screamed for his friend Wally – and then he remembered. Wally wasn’t coming. He’d seen to that himself.

Overwhelmed by the enemy and with no friends left to help him, Philo had to make a quick choice: be killed by the giants or kill himself. And that’s how Philo came to die by the point of the same sword that had killed all his friends.

Proverbs 22:24-25
24 Make no friendship with an angry man; and with a furious man thou shalt not go:
25 Lest thou learn his ways, and get a snare to thy soul.


April 22, 2015 - Posted by | Inspirational | , , ,

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