Purpose To consider whether ambition or humility is the truest signpost to God

Assessed properly, humility is the abandonment of rose-colored self-evaluations.

Jesus did not tell parables to amuse, distract, or even educate his hearers. Usually, although not exclusively, about what matters to God (and why), the stories were meant to change how his hearers lived.

Matthew 5:5 5Happy are people who are humble, because they will inherit the earth.

Luke 18:9-14 9Jesus told this parable to certain people who had convinced themselves that they were righteous and who looked on everyone else with disgust: 10“Two people went up to the temple to pray. One was a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11The Pharisee stood and prayed about himself with these words, ‘God, I thank you that I’m not like everyone else—crooks, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12I fast twice a week. I give a tenth of everything I receive.’ 13But the tax collector stood at a distance. He wouldn’t even lift his eyes to look toward heaven. Rather, he struck his chest and said, ‘God, show mercy to me, a sinner.’ 14I tell you, this person went down to his home justified rather than the Pharisee. All who lift themselves up will be brought low, and those who make themselves low will be lifted up.”

Key Verse: “Happy are people who are humble, because they will inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5).

Sometimes Jesus told parables that were full of grace. Sometimes they were full of judgment. Sometimes we’re not sure how to understand them. Yet the parable for this lesson seems so straightforward at first. We’re not to compare ourselves favorably to others, especially if that leads us to belittle others. Instead, we are to act humbly, not trust in our own goodness, and depend on God’s mercy.

Besides God, there are two characters in this parable. One is an obvious good guy (a Pharisee); the other is an obvious bad guy (a tax collector). There was little to like about tax collectors. They had bought so deeply into the Roman political system that they were universally despised by Jews.

The Pharisees, however, were almost universally respected. True, some of Jesus’ harshest criticisms were directed at them, but these men were dependable, learned, and religiously devout. After the Holy City was destroyed and the priesthood collapsed, it was the Pharisees who reconstructed the Jewish faith into the Judaism we know today. They were good guys. If you believe the Pharisees were pious frauds, it’s time to let go of the stereotype. It is unfair and patently untrue.

Although our piety probably does not qualify us to be named in the same breath as devout Pharisees, some of us are likely pleased with our level of church involvement. We worship. We pray. We listen to instruction. When we head home, we’re none the worse for wear but perhaps none the better for the time spent in God’s presence. And that’s the tragedy of the Pharisee in Jesus’ story! What could be more tragic than heading home from an encounter with God unblessed and unchanged?

There is another way in which we may be similar to the Pharisee. Have we ever said of a person or a situation, “There, but for the grace of God, go I?” We’re expressing our gratitude that we took the paths we did. But if we then take credit for the choices, we may begin looking down on people (who didn’t get the same breaks we did) as beneath us and not as good as us.

We may want to interject that there is nothing immoral about this. Perhaps. But here’s the tragedy Jesus was zeroing in on: What can God offer a people who are convinced they can look after them-elves, who are not convinced God has anything to offer us we need? The tragedy is that we can enter God’s presence but remain unchanged, maybe even grow resentful.

The other character in Jesus’ parable is not a wholesome guy. His life has been full of bad choices and missed opportunities. The only thing he has going for him is that he knows this. Like the tax collector, some of us are weathering difficult times. In the words of the confession, “We have not loved [God] with our whole heart. We have failed to be obedient. We have not done [God’s] will, we have broken [God’s] law, we have rebelled against [God’s] love, we have not loved our neighbors, and we have not heard the cry of the needy.” All we can hope is that God will be merciful to us.

Of course, the gospel has nothing to do with what we accomplish but everything to do with what God offers. When the tax collector spoke to God a snippet of a psalm (“God, be merciful to me, a sinner”), he likely had no idea he was reciting the words of King David in Psalm 51.

He may not even have known that what he needed was grace. He only knew his need was greater than he could bear. Sick of being sick, he threw himself on God’s mercy.

If that describes us, listen to a word of gospel that is as life-giving today as when it was first spoken! Said Jesus, “This man went home justified before God.” The bad man received what the good man didn’t even have the good sense to ask for.

It’s not that God gives good things only to the haggard and the hurting. It’s that the haggard and hurting are often the only people who think God has something to offer that might benefit them.

Those who have ears to hear, let them hear.

Matthew 5:5, the third of eight beatitudes Jesus pronounced on God’s people in the Sermon on the Mount, declares that humble people are blessed because they will “inherit the earth.” The Gospel parable about the Pharisee and the tax collector, at prayer in the Temple in Jerusalem, appears only in the Gospel of Luke. It illustrates not only that God is “no respecter of persons” (Acts 10:34, KJV) but also that Mary’s declarations regarding God’s take on greatness and humility (Luke 1:52-53) are incisive comments on God’s way in our world.

The Gospel text divides into five brief parts. In Part 1 (Luke 18:9), Luke introduces a parable Jesus told that addresses the linkage between our actions and God’s bestowal of favor. In Part 2 (verse 10), Jesus names two characters depicted in the parable: a Pharisee and a tax collector. Part 3 (verses 11-12) recounts the Pharisee’s prayer to God. Part 4 (verse 13) reports the quite different prayer of the tax collector. Part 5 (verse 14) includes a surprising divine verdict on the two persons as well as the concluding judgment that hearers/readers are intended to make.

Matthew 5:5. Jesus’ first two beatitudes are linked directly to Isaiah 61:1-2. This third beatitude is similarly linked to Psalm 37:11...

"But the meek shall inherit the land and delight themselves in abundant peace"

...as well as its immediate echoes in Psalm 37:22, 34...

Psalm 37:22 "For those blessed by Him will inherit the land, But those cursed by Him will be eliminated".

Psalm 37:34 "Wait for the Lord and keep his way, and he will exalt you to inherit the land; you will look on when the wicked are cut off".

It should not surprise us that Jesus, who said that he had no interest in “[doing] away with the Law and the Prophets” but intended to “fulfill them” (Matthew 5:17), was steeped in the words of Holy Scripture.

“Humble” is a helpful translation that avoids the largely negative feelings associated with the word “meek” (KJV, NRSV, NIV). In a culture in which it is considered normative to be ambitious and self-assertive, the almost visceral reaction to and largely negative assessment of Charles Wesley’s hymn’s depiction of “gentle Jesus, meek and mild”1 unfortunately says more about the human qualities we value than those valued by Jesus.

It is worth recalling that Jesus said of himself that he was “meek and lowly in heart” (Matthew 11:29, KJV), “gentle and humble” (NASB, NRSV, TEV).

And it was said of Moses that he was “very meek” (Numbers 12:3, KJV), “very humble” (NASB, NRSV, NIV), “a quietly humble man, more so than anyone living on Earth” (The Message). Neither man was considered by his peers to be arrogant, boisterous, or proud. Exercising humility or displaying meekness is regularly asserted by many to be an open invitation to be treated by others as a doormat, someone who can be walked over easily.

However, given Moses’ willingness to confront Pharaoh and the Egyptian people repeatedly (Exodus 5–11.) and even to argue with God (Exodus 32:9-14; 33:12-16; Numbers 14:1-20), the assertion is difficult to defend. The same is true of Jesus, who neither grew hesitant nor expressed fear when in the presence of prominent Jewish officials (John 18:19-23), detachments of soldiers (John 18:3-8), or appointed Roman officials (John 18:33-37).

Assessed properly, humility is the abandonment of rose-colored self-evaluations. It is the result of an accurate, “true estimate of ourselves.” 2 The meek are those who know that they “stand empty-handed before God in total dependence upon him.”3 Since God “shows favor to the humble” (Proverbs 3:34; quoted in James 4:6; 1 Peter 5:5), that is not a bad situation to be in.

Proverbs 3:34 - "The Lord mocks the mockers but is gracious to the humble."

“[Inheriting] the earth” is an oft-named divine promise in the Old Testament (for example, Psalm 25:13; Isaiah 57:13) first spoken to Abraham (Genesis 15:18-20; 17:8). Although it referred originally and specifically to the geographical land of Canaan/Israel, by extension it pointed to the certainty of God fulfilling God’s promises.

As Psalm 37:11 made clear, the humble will most assuredly “enjoy peace and prosperity” (NIV). Shalom shall be theirs.

With these thoughts in mind, we are ready to think about Jesus’ parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector in Luke 18 as an apt illustration of this beatitude.

Luke 18:9. As was true of most of Jesus’ parables, this story (one of the last that he told) had a particular audience in mind. In the Gospel of Luke, only the parables of the talents (Luke 19:12-27) and the tenants (20:9-16) remained. While some had almost immediately transparent meanings, they were not simple tales told so that even children could understand them. Often, the stories left (and still leave) hearers deeply puzzled, requiring them to ponder the tales at length if they want to understand them.

Readers must be careful not to equate “certain people” with the Pharisees. Identifying the “bad guy” in the story with persons whom we believe we are not is a self-serving attempt to distance ourselves from the story’s harsh conclusion.

Indeed, the rest of the verse carefully clarifies that the “certain people” are those who “[convincee] themselves that they [are] righteous and who [look] on everyone else with disgust.”

Since classifying people as good or bad, right or wrong, or wise or foolish is something that almost every single one of us does, it is critically important to pay close attention to the two ways Jesus described these “certain people.”

(1) They were “convinced” that they “were righteous.” That is, they believed that they were thinking the only correct—and thus approvable— way to think about the issue(s) in question. (2) Because they (alone) were thinking rightly, anyone thinking or acting differently was clearly wrong and could therefore be “looked on . . . with disgust,” regarded “with contempt” (NASB, NRSV), “scorned” (NLT), “despised” (KJV, RSV, TEV), or “looked down on” (NIV).

In telling this story, Jesus was not suggesting that there aren’t right and wrong ways to think or act. Nor was he declaring that right and wrong, or good actions and bad actions, are beyond our ability to determine. Nor was he suggesting that it is necessarily wrong to have specific beliefs or to make particular judgments. Nor was he declaring that any belief or judgment should be tolerated as equally admissible as any other. His very telling of the story was an attempt to correct something that he considered wrong and to advocate something that he considered right.

No matter how right we may convince ourselves we are on a political, social, or religious issue, being right never gives us permission to despise those who disagree with us or treat them with contempt. As Cyril of Alexandria (376–444) said long ago, “No one who is in good health ridicules one who is sick for being laid up or bedridden.”

Verse 10. “Two people went up to the Temple to pray.” While there were scores of synagogues in Galilee, Judea, and in other regions throughout the Roman Empire, there was only one Temple, which was located in Jerusalem. Situated on a 35-acre mount that had been leveled by construction workers approved by King Herod, the Temple complex was enclosed by walls that towered 100 feet above the streets of Jerusalem. Thus, persons literally “went up” to the Temple.

Described by the prophet Isaiah as “a house of prayer” (Isaiah 56:7), the Temple complex was open for public prayers twice daily, at 9 am (Acts 2:15) and 3 pm (Acts 3:1). Of course, persons could pray privately at the Temple at any time.

“Pharisees” were Jewish laypersons who took God’s call to live holy lives so seriously that they declared that priestly standards of conduct were applicable for all people. Although the numbers of persons who committed themselves to a strict Pharisaic way of life remained small (probably never more than five percent 30 Adult Bible Studies Teacher of the Jewish populace), by the time of Jesus the religious renewal movement had become a political force in Judea and Galilee that had to be reckoned with.

While some New Testament critiques of some of the Pharisees encourage some Christians today to disparage all Pharisees as “hypocrites,” the power of this parable’s conclusion (Luke 18:14) to surprise hearers/readers is severely compromised if the Pharisee in the story is considered at the outset to be a villain rather than a holy man.

A tax collector was a Jew in the employ of Roman overseers responsible for collecting official (and unofficial) taxes, tolls, duties, customs, and other fees from the Jewish populace. Because these agents obtained their salary by overcharging persons however much they believed they could reasonably collect—a standard practice granted and approved by the overseers—tax collectors were generally disapproved of by Jews as traitors of the Jewish people. Just as first-century Jews would have believed that Pharisees were generally honorable and pious, so they would have believed that tax collectors were dishonorable thieves, not heroes.

Verse 11. Adopting the usual posture for prayer, the Pharisee “stood.” His prayer began appropriately as well, with thanksgivings to God. However, instead of thanking God for what God had done––not making the Pharisee a Gentile or a slave, for instance—he spoke of the things he had not done. He was not guilty of breaking any of the Mosaic laws; he didn’t steal, give false testimony, or commit adultery. Nor, he added, espying in the distance a traitorous figure, was he like “this tax collector,” extorting questionable tolls from his fellow Jews.

Verse 12. In addition, his piety had advanced to the point that he no longer fasted only one day a year on Yom Kippur (the Day of Atonement) or even one day a week; he fasted “twice a week,” probably on Mondays and Thursdays, the days on which Moses was said to have ascended Mount Sinai to meet with God and to have descended the holy mountain with the Ten Commandments in hand. And his tithing practice was equally well-developed; he paid a tithe on everything. To offer a contemporary parallel, he didn’t just tithe his net; he tithed his gross. Before turning our attention to the tax collector, it’s important to acknowledge that nothing mentioned by the Pharisee would have been considered a bad thing—then or now. What church today would not be thrilled to have a member who tithed his gross income, was a regular practitioner of private piety, could honestly say that he kept the Ten Commandments fully intact, and did not engage in shady, traitorous deeds of any kind?

Indeed, if we’re looking for something to slight, about the only thing we can say concerning the man is that he has drawn our attention to the good deeds he does, as well as to his successful avoidance of bad deeds. That, and perhaps this: “Proper thanks to God for one’s lot in life never involves condescension toward others.”

Verse 13. As noted by the Pharisee, there was also present at that time of public prayer a “tax collector.” One gets the sense that he felt uncomfortable and rather ill at ease in the Temple complex, for he “stood [apart from others,] at a distance.” Furthermore, as he spoke privately to God, he couldn’t quite bring himself to lift his eyes heavenward (as Jews then regularly did and as we today tend to do, too). The picture Jesus painted of the man was that he was distraught in spirit, unsure if he even should be speaking to God. He was, after all, not a good man. He was a tax collector. So, keeping his eyes averted, perhaps with a deeply furrowed brow, he repeatedly “struck his chest” in anguish (Luke 23:48), much as a priest today might do during the worship services of Lent and Holy Week. The act is a visual acknowledgement of his unholy status.

Knowing that there was nothing to which he could draw God’s attention to commend himself to God, all he could do was be honest and throw himself on the mercy of the strict judge before whom he stood. “God, show mercy to me, a sinner.”

Verse 14. Jesus concluded his story with a shocking, even breathtaking declaration. The tax collector, not the Pharisee, “went . . . home justified.” The conclusion is so shocking that it forces us to reread the parable immediately; surely, we must have missed or misread something.

On second (or third) reading, many readers decide that the Pharisee’s “problem” was that he praised his own goodness rather than thanking God for helping him to act rightly. That may be, although it is quite possible to read verse 13 as his list of the things he does—he fasts, he tithes—to express his gratitude to God There is, however, a simpler reason as to why the tax collector “went . . . home justified” and the Pharisee did not. It’s not that God refused to offer mercy to the Pharisee because of something the man did or did not do. For whatever reason, the Pharisee never asked for mercy. Not having asked for it, he didn’t receive it. The tax collector, on the other hand, aware of his need, asked for mercy and received it. Jesus’ concluding comment, a repetition of Luke 14:11, reinforces the point.

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"So, why exactly are we cutting out their livers?" Aury asks conversationally. The beefy cleric has his head on a swivel, mace in hand and shield strapped to his left forearm as he keeps a vigilant lookout for further threats. And the truth is, he'd rather have to fight again than have to put his hands in frogling entrails.

Mattie finishes carefully placing another frogling internal organ in one of a pair of plast bags hanging by strings from a low-hanging cypress branch. "The livers are for Chudwick, Cimmer the Glassblower's boy — he has viddimen deficiency." The mage returns to the corpse of the same frogling and begins work on extracting its heart. "The hearts are for the goblins, proof of our effectiveness — but also good eating, or so I'm told."

The cleric grunts. "I'll take your word for it." While continuing to scan the shadows of nearby trees and other flora, he reaches down and peels another leech off his leg, just above a knee. "I don't get it. The water only comes up near the tops of our boots, but I keep finding leeches higher and higher on my legs."

Mattie stands and deposits a frogling heart in a plast bag that dangles next to the fuller, heavier, bag for livers. "They're making their way toward your groin. It's their preferred dining location." He stoops over and cleanses his hands and forearms with bog water.

"Makes sense," muses the cleric. "That is where my single largest vein is located..." Mattie looks up sharply, but the cleric is dead-panning, ostensibly focused only on the hazards of the surroundings.

"Well!" rejoins the mage, sealing the two plast bags. "You go ahead and luxuriate in that mistaken notion. Meanwhile, I have finished my collecting. I think these should suffice to convince our unfriendly lizardmen not to do anything untoward, at least not in the next few weeks." He hefts the bags, grimacing with a pained grunt as the weight aggravates a cut on his right arm. "Shall we head for home?"

Aury turns as he hears his friend grunt in pain. "You know, I'm hurt, too, actually. One moment..." The cleric lowers his head and closes his eyes briefly, whispering words too soft to hear.

Aghh... sighs Matthias in relief, having not noticed the impact on his right hip until his comerade's Healing Surge rights the injury with an audible click of a socket realigning. And so the two Seekers begin slogging their way — sloshing step by mud-sucking step — back east toward Helix village.

But of course, things can't be that simple, right? We can't just spend the morning in the bog collecting some froglings organs. No. No, a pair of lizardmen, who just might have been on their way to confer with their erstwhile frogling allies, have spotted you. And clearly, these lizardmen have seen the cut-open bodies of those small, no-longer-jumping amphibious ne'er-do-wells. They draw up just long enough to cast spears at about thirty feet distance, and are already charging forward even before those projectiles find or miss their marks.

For this fight, we'll eschew mapping. It'll be a tough fight, as these lizardman cannot yet be targeted by our cleric hero's Fray Dice. As combat erupts, Mattie is at 10/10 HP, and Aury is at 11/13 HP.

Lizardmen are 2+4 HD creatures.

We resolve the hurled spears and, luckily, our heroes aren't hit. Matthias' mage Fray Die makes things much more manageable for the PCs, and in short order the combat is over.

Between the two of them, the lizardman have thirteen chroma, no royals, and a dozen red cuprous copper pieces.

However, no sooner have our heroes looted the bodies of this pair of lizardmen and again begun their eastyard trek, than they are set upon by quite a sizable band of bog denizens arriving from further west. In fact, could this be a group intending to attack the Scarface Goblins? Our heroes count five lizardmen and a dozen froglings.

The froglings are generally leading the lizardmen. No doubt, this group came across the floating corpses of the froglings you slew earlier this morning.

We'll do this theatre of the mind, to save website disk space and speed up combat. Fortunately for Aury and Mattie, these lizardmen either aren't bearing spears, or else they're forbearing hurling them in order to not endanger their frogling allies who are leading the charge.

As the initial wave of froglings leap to the attack, Aury and Mattie lash out with their mace and magic, respectively, slaying two. Then Aury's mace sweeps a frogling on its downward arc as it leaps for him. The frogling that leaps for Mattie misses the mage, just as Mattie's dagger fails to connect. It's the end of round one, and no PCs are further injured, while three froglings lie dead.

The second round of combat begins, and Mattie uses his Fray Die against a leaping frogling whose attack would otherwise have hit.

Mattie pivots lashing out with his quarterstaff to slay another frogling as it leaps toward the cleric. Aury's Fray Die slays a frogling menacing him from the west, and then the cleric's backhand mace swipe slays another frogling! The remaining frogling in melee range misses Aury. Meanwhile, other froglings have been positioning themselves for leap attacks, and the lizardmen have spread out, ready to menace the PCs once their frogling cannon-fodder allies succumb.

Round three arrives and two-thirds of the froglings float in the bog, slain. Undoubtedly, they would have broken and fled were it not for the presence of their lizardmen allies. A frogling west of Aury is slain by the cleric's fray attack as it leaps, and Mattie's fray attack slays the only other frogling that is currently in immediate melee range of the heroes. Hoping its timing will avail, two other froglings leap at the mage, but Mattie criticals one of them and the other fails its to-hit roll. Two other froglings get smart and use the remainder of round three to position themselves to leap upon the heroes from behind them, assuming the PCs remain facing the advancing lizardmen. A spear chucked by a lizardmen due north of Aury at the bottom of round three hits the cleric, dropping Aury from 11/13 to 10/13 HP.

As round 4 begins, one of the five lizardmen turns and begins hurrying back west, leaving the scene.

Aury takes a single sodden step to the northeast, slaying (with his fray attack) one of two froglings menacing Mattie. The mage pivots and slays the other nearby frogling with a haphazardly flung eldritch bolt of energy. Two more froglings leap at the mage. Mattie brings his quarterstaff to bear on one of them, killing it. The other frogling completes its leap and scores a hit for a single point of damage with a rather poorly fashioned club. Aury remains at 10/13 HP, but Mattie drops to 9/10 HP. The westernmost lizardman closes to within ten feet and hurls its spear at Aury. It's a hit, and our cleric drops to 09/13 HP.

Two other lizardmen don't have spears to throw and so step into melee range from north of the cleric — one critting the cleric (but still just 1 damage, dropping Aury to 08/13 HP) and his compatriot doesn't land a solid hit. At the bottom of round four, the other two lizardmen have adjusted their position, preparing to attack.

Round 5 arrives. Aury's melee attack misses the lizardman to his immediate northeast, but his fray attack injures it. Mattie makes a wise split second decision and slays the surviving frogling with a stray magical bolt of energy. The mage then, not without fear, takes a step northeastward and attacks a lizardman, actually landing a solid hit with his quarterstaff and injuring the reptilian humanoid. Unfortunately, that foe returns the favor, and Mattie drops to 8/10 HP (Aury is at 8/13 HP).

The lizardman NW of Aury lands a solid blow, but Aury catches it on his shield and remains uninjured. The westernmost lizardman closes and attacks Aury, and the cleric barely gets his shield up in time and is jarred, taking a half-step backward from the force of the lizardman's blow.

Round 6 arrives, and from somewhere west of your location a hunting horn sounds sonorously. It's the lone lizardman who left the fight, signaling for reinforcements! Surprisingly, at the top of round 6, Mattie's quarterstaff connects solidly once again, slaying the lizardman SE of the mage's position. The mage pivots northward and an icebolt takes out the throat of the injured lizardman that has been menacing Aury. The cleric attacks another lizardman, and hits! Mace rolls 5 and we add 1 for Aury's strength, so he deals 2 converted damage to lizzie and kills it in round 6! Therefore, the cleric uses his fray attack to injure the lone remaining lizardman. Despite the fact that all its fellows are slain or fled, the remaining lizardman is in a battle frenzy, hating other humanoids too much to realize his perilous position. He attacks Aury again. Misses. And Aury and Mattie's fray attacks end the remaining foe's life.

END OF COMBAT. Total encounter experience: froglings yield 780 XP and lizardmen yield 500 XP, totaling 1,280 — split between the two, each hero gets 640 XP. The froglings carried a total of 8 chroma and 64 shiny cuprous. The lizardmen carried a combined 20 chroma, 8 royals, 32 shiny cuprous coins. Converting chroma to GP yields 10 royals total; converting shiny cuprous, we now have 10.32 GP of treasure. Combining this with the froglings coinage converted to GP, we have 11.76 GP total. Mattie is at 8/10 HP and Aury is at 8/13.

"So..." Aury says, minutes later after you have looted the dead and resumed your trek east, slowly making progress back toward Helix village, that was not entirely expected."

"It was not," Mattie agrees, glancing over at the cleric. The mage grins as Aury detaches yet another leech. "I hadn't counted on that much organized resistance, based on what Chief Scarface had shared. I think we were just victims of an unfortunate coincidence."

Aury turns, brow crinkling. "What, you don't think they were heading for the goblin camp? I don't know, that was a fairly sizeable group..."

"It was, but I don't think they were launching their attack on the goblins. For one thing, there weren't enough lizardmen. Whenever they decide to make their move, I'm guessing there will be at least a couple dozen lizardmen. No, I suspect that what we encountered was a patrol, perhaps doubling as a hunting party."

"All right, I'm still with you, so far," says Aury.

"Remember, froglings and lizardmen are naturally enemies, competing for resources. So, I think they were intentionally working together to build a certain degree of trust and familiarity with each other's methods — probably at the behest of their respective leaders."

The cleric nods. "Okay, makes sense. Well, I'm glad we didn't encounter them in force, if what we ran into was just a patrol."

Our two heroes had, briefly, considered harvesting more frogling livers, but Aury hadn't wanted to push their luck, and Mattie had been inclined to agree. Their backpacks jingle intermittently as the two progress eastward, evidence of coinage collected as treasure. By the time that the sun reaches its zenith, our heroes are perhaps another hour from the goblin camp.

"I've been wondering..." hazards the mage.

"Yes?" Aury disentangles a booted foot from where it has snagged in a root.

"When you did that ... healing thing..."

"The healing surge."

"Yes, that. Why did you speak under your breath? Other clerics in our chapterhouse — and for that matter, more broadly around Stigrix — loudly proclaim when they pray. I assume you were praying?"

"You assume correctly," Aury answers. Then he sighs, comes to a stop in the bog, hands on hips and staring off into the distance. "The reason is this. I believe that those other clerics... whoever or whatever they're praying to cannot hear them and grant spells unless they speak aloud."

"Yesss... but they do that to proclaim their faith boldly, to—"

"—to conspicously consume the blessing of diety," Aury finishes, shaking his head dismissively. "It serves as an explanation, I suppose. But I have never seen any other cleric invoke whatever ... Power it is that is listening without an audible request."

Matthias nods as the two Seekers again begin walking east. "So you've been experimenting, and you have discovered a god who can hear you even when you are silent..."

"Not a god," Aury rejoins. "The God. If I'm right, and I feel strongly that I am, there is only one god. One all-knowing being, all powerful. Those other clerics—"

"Aren't gods?" Matthias exclaims incredulously. "Well, I can't wait to see how your fellow clerics react to that!"

The two are silent for a full minute as they slog along. Finally, the mage says, "So you're ... testing this being."

"Not testing, no," Aury answers. "Displaying my faith. Resting in it..." And that is the end of that conversation, at least for the time being. Matthias shakes his head a minute later, still pondering it.

Continue the story...