We take a break from our usual format to present the following parable, which has been told a few times before, but perhaps you haven’t seen it. May you have a very happy Easter!
A wealthy industrialist and his son loved to collect great works of art. They would often sit together to discuss and appreciate the paintings in their collection, which ranged from Raphael to Rembrandt, and from Monet to Matisse.
But when war broke out, the son went off to fight in a distant land. He was very courageous but died tragically in battle while rescuing a wounded comrade. The father was notified and grieved deeply for his only son.
A few months later, just before Easter, the doorbell rang. A young man stood in the entrance with a large package in his hands. He said, "Sir, you don't know me, but I am the soldier for whom your son gave his life. He saved many lives that day, and he was carrying me to safety when he was hit by that fateful shot. He would often talk about you, and your love for art.”
The young man held out his package. "I know this isn't much. I'm not really an artist, but I think your son would have wanted you to have this." The father opened the package. It was a portrait of his son, painted by the young man. He was deeply moved by the soldier’s visit, and by the way he had captured his son’s personality in the painting. Tears welled up in the father’s eyes as he thanked the young man and offered to pay him for the picture.
"Oh, no sir, I could never repay what your son did for me. It's a gift."
The father hung the portrait in a prime position in his house. Every time visitors came to his home he showed them the portrait of his son before taking them to see any of the other great works he had collected.
A few years later the old man died. There was to be a great auction of his art collection. On the day, many wealthy and influential people gathered at the house, excited by the opportunity to purchase one of the masterpieces for their collections. But the first lot on the platform was the soldier’s painting of the son.
The auctioneer called for silence. "We will begin the auction with this painting of the collector’s son. Who will start the bidding?"
There was silence. No one was interested. A voice near the back of the room called out, "We have come for the great masters; just skip this one." But the auctioneer persisted. "What am I bid for this painting? Who will start? Will anyone give me $200?"
People rolled their eyes and others scowled in frustration as no one made a bid. The buyers became restless and another voice called out angrily, "We didn't come to see this painting; we came for the Renoirs and Turners. Let’s move on to the real bids!"
But the auctioneer persisted, "I want a bid on the painting of the son! Who will start the bidding? Who wants the son?" Finally, a voice came from the very back of the room to break the tension. "I'll offer $50 for it, as I knew the young man since he was a child." It was the gardener who used to work for the old man.
"Thank you. We have $50; will anyone bid $70?" Someone called out, "Come on, give it to him for $50. Let's see the great masters."
"$50 is the bid, am I offered more?" The auctioneer looked round the room before pounding the gavel. "Going once, going twice.... sold for $50!"
The assembled art collectors sighed with relief as this seemingly pointless detour finally came to an end. A woman sitting on the second row said, "Now let's get on with the real auction!"
The auctioneer then laid down his gavel and closed the catalogue. "Ladies and gentlemen, the auction is now over."
Gasps of dismay were heard all round the packed room. Someone cried out incredulously, “What about the masterpieces?"
"I am very sorry, but when I was invited to conduct this auction, I was told of a certain stipulation in the will. That stipulation could only be revealed at this moment. Only the painting of the son would in fact be auctioned. Whoever took the son would also be given the entire estate, including all the other paintings. They now belong to the gentleman at the back. Good day.”
