3 questions

"Martial law!” says the President. “Famines!” says the World Food Programme. “Global depression!” say the economists. Terrifying stuff, on top of whatever personal hardship you may be facing because of the COVID-19 pandemic.

London is finely dressed in the bright green of new leaves and blossoms but I am locked down. My daughter is growing into womanhood attending classes online and my mind is darkened by questions I can’t answer: what will become of us in such a depression? What will the future be like? Will things ever get back to normal? Will my family be safe and healthy?

All these questions reminded me of the short story about three questions by Leo Tolstoy that I shall paraphrase here, about a certain king who sought the answers to what he considered to be the three most important questions in life.

It had occurred to the king that “if he always knew the right time to begin everything; if he knew who were the right people to listen to, and whom to avoid; and, above all, if he always knew what was the most important thing to do, he would never fail in anything he might undertake.”

Learned men came to answer the king, but he wasn’t satisfied with their replies. To the first question, some said one must draw up a timetable for the coming days, months, and years, and live strictly according to it. Others, however, declared that it was impossible to decide beforehand the right time for every action, but that one should always attend to all that was going on, and then do what was most needful. There were just as varied answers to the second question. Some said the king most needed councillors; others, priests; others, doctors; while some said the warriors were the most necessary.

To the third question, as to what was the most important occupation, some replied that the most important thing in the world was science. Others said it was warfare; and others, again, that it was religious worship.

The king didn’t agree with any of them, but still wanted answers. So he decided to visit a wise hermit, who never left the wood in which he lived and received only common people. So the king put on simple clothes and, before reaching the hermit’s cell, dismounted from his horse and left his bodyguard behind.

The hermit was digging the ground in front of his hut, the effort was making him breathe heavily. The king said: “I have come to you, wise hermit, to ask you to answer three questions: How can I learn to do the right thing at the right time? Who are the people I most need, and to whom should I, therefore, pay more attention than to the rest? And, what affairs are the most important and need my first attention?”

The hermit listened to the king, but answered nothing. He just spat on his hand and recommenced digging.

“You are tired,” said the king, “let me take the spade and work awhile for you.”

When he had dug two beds, the king stopped and repeated his questions. The hermit again gave no answer, but offered to take the spade again. The king however, continued to dig. The hours passed until the sun began to sink behind the trees, and the king asked for answers to his questions once again, saying he would return home otherwise.

The hermit, however, noticed someone running toward them and suggested they hear what he had to say. The man was wounded and bleeding. When he reached the king, he moaned and fell to the ground. The king and the hermit tended to the man, until he was quiet and they put him to bed. The king was so tired he crouched down on the threshold, and also fell asleep.

When he woke, the wounded man was gazing at him. “Forgive me!” he said. The man admitted he was an enemy of the king who had planned to assassinate him as he visited the hermit, but the king’s bodyguard had injured him and he should have bled to death if the king hadn’t helped him. Now he swore loyalty to the king. The king was very glad to have made peace with his enemy so easily.

Before he left he asked the hermit one last time for answers to his questions. “You already know the answers. If you had not pitied my weakness yesterday, and had not dug these beds for me, but had gone your way, that man would have attacked you, and you would have repented of not having stayed with me. So the most important time was when you were digging the beds; and I was the most important man; and to do me good was your most important business. Afterwards, when that man ran to us, the most important time was when you were attending to him, for if you had not bound up his wounds he would have died without having made peace with you. So he was the most important man, and what you did for him was your most important business. Remember then: there is only one time that is important – now! It is the most important time because it is the only time when we have any power. The most necessary person is the one with whom you are, for no man knows whether he will ever have dealings with anyone else: and the most important affair is to do that person good, because for that purpose alone was man sent into this life.”

I love the easy immediacy of this parable. It makes quick and light work of the anxious, doubtful over-thinking that can overwhelm us at times like these. It’s a reminder that the past is over and done with, while the future is yet to come and no one can predict what it will bring. Sometimes our worries, dreams and disappointments distract us from the moment we are actually in, and we fail to appreciate the people in front of us and what they may need. The story helps me to arrive here and now, blessed with a beautiful daughter, playing her cello upstairs, with the bright spring light around us.