Today I read a story in Tiina Nunnally's fantastic translation of Hans Christian Andersen's Fairy Tales (I just bought this last week) which seemed to me to be an amazing parable (though unintentionally) of many of our journeys to Christ, and specifically to the Church of Christ, and I wanted to share it with you all.
I especially loved how he wrote about those who got distracted from the sound of the bell, or created substitutes for the bell, and there is a big surprise (at least it was to me) at the ending in the way that Andersen describes the setting of the forest... but I won't say anymore...
"The Bell"
By Hans Christian Andersen
In the evening in the narrow streets of the big city, when the sun went down and the clouds shone like gold up among the chimney tops, first one person and then another would often hear an odd sound, like the chiming of a church bell. But it was heard for only a moment, because there was such a rumbling of wagons and such shouting, and that was quite distracting. Now the evening bell is ringing, people would say. Now the sun is going down.
Those who were walking outside the city, where the houses stood far apart, with gardens and small fields, saw an even more splendid evening sky and heard the bell chime much louder. The sound seemed to come from a church deep inside the silent, fragrant forest, and people would look in that direction and grow quite solemn.
Many years passed, and one person began saying to another, I wonder if theres a church out there in the forest? That bell has a strange, lovely ring to it. Lets go out and take a closer look. And the rich people drove while the poor walked, but the road seemed exceptionally long. When they reached a grove of willow trees that grew at the edge of the forest, they sat down and looked up at the long branches and thought they were truly out in nature. A pastry chef from the city went out and pitched his tent, and then another pastry chef came along, and he hung a bell right over his tent, but it was the kind of bell that had been tarred to withstand the rain, and the clapper was missing. When people returned home, they said it had been so romantic, and that went far beyond tea-party chatter. Three people claimed to have gone all the way through the forest to the other side, and they had heard the strange bell ringing the whole time, but it seemed to them that the sound was coming from the city. One of them wrote an entire ballad about it and said that the bell rang like a mothers voice singing to a beloved child. No melody was lovelier than the chiming of that bell.
The Emperor of the country had also taken notice and promised that whoever could discover where the sound was coming from would win the title of World Bell-Ringer, even if it turned out not to be a bell.
Now many people went to the forest in the hope of acquiring that excellent position, but there was only one who came home with any sort of explanation. No one had gone far enough inside, not even this man, and yet he said that the bell sound came from an enormous owl inside a hollow tree. It was some kind of owl of wisdom who was constantly knocking its head against the tree, but whether the sound came from its head or from the hollow trunk, he couldnt yet say for certain. Then he was appointed World Bell-Ringer and each year he wrote a short dissertation about the owl. But no one was any the wiser.
Then confirmation day came around, and the pastor spoke so beautifully and fervently. Those who were to be confirmed were very moved. It was an important day for them; they had suddenly turned from children into grown-ups. Their childish souls now seemed to pass into more sensible adults. The sunshine was at its loveliest. The children who had been confirmed walked out of the city, and from the forest the great unknown bell chimed, wondrous and loud. They suddenly had such a desire to go to the forest, all but three of them. The first had to go home to try on her ball gown, because that gown and that ball were the reasons why she had been confirmed right now; otherwise she wouldnt have been invited. The second was a poor boy who had borrowed his confirmation jacket and boots from the landlords son, and they had to be returned at a certain time. The third said that he didnt go to strange places unless his parents went along, and he had always been a well-behaved child; thats what he would continue to be now, even after being confirmed. There was no need to make fun of him, but they did.
So three of them stayed behind as the others set off. The sun shone and the birds sang and the children sang too, holding each others hands, because they had not yet found work and were all recently confirmed before Our Lord.
But soon two of the youngest grew tired and headed back to the city. Two other girls sat down to make wreaths, so they didnt go along either. When the rest reached the willow trees and the pastry chefs tent, they said, Look, here we are! The bell doesnt exist at all. Its just something people have imagined.
At that very moment, from deep in the forest, the bell rang so sweetly and solemnly that four or five of the children decided to go farther into the forest. It was so dense, so laden with leaves that it was quite difficult to make any headway. Woodruff and windflowers seemed to grow much too high. Flowering convulus and blackberry vines hung in long garlands from tree to tree where the nightingale sang and the rays of sun played. Oh, it was so blissful, but there was no pathway for the girls to follow. Their clothes would have been torn to shreds. There were huge boulders covered with moss of all different colors. Fresh spring water was trickling out and saying, quite strangely, Glug, glug!
That couldnt be the bell, could it? said one of the boys as he lay down to listen. Were going to have to study this. Then he stayed behind and let the others continue on.
They came to a house made of bark and branches. A huge tree with wild apples was bending over it, as if to shake all its blessings onto the roof, which was covered with rose blossoms. The long branches wound around the whole gable, and from the gable hung a little bell. Could that be the one they had heard? Yes, they all thought it was, except for one boy. He said the bell was too small and delicate to be heard as far away as they had heard it, and that its tones were quite different from those that could move a human heart. The boy who spoke was a kings son, and so the others said, Someone like that always wants to seem more clever.
Then they let him continue on alone, and as he walked his chest became more and more filled with forest-loneliness. But he could still hear the little bell that had pleased the others, and sometimes, when the wind came from the direction of the pastry tent, he could also hear people singing as they drank tea. But the deep peals of the bell grew even louder; it soon sounded as if an organ were playing along. The sound came from the left, from the side of the heart.
Then there was a rustling in the thicket and a little boy stood in front of the kings son, a boy wearing wooden clogs and a jacket so short that it was quite clear what long wrists he had. They recognized each other. He was the boy who couldnt come along because he had to go home and return his jacket and boots to the landlords son. Thats what he had done, and then, wearing wooden clogs and his own ragged clothes, he had set off alone, because the ringing of the bell was so loud and deep that he had to find it.
We could go together, said the kings son. But the poor boy with the wooden clogs was quite bashful. He tugged at the short sleeves of his jacket and said he was afraid he wouldnt be able to walk fast enough. And besides, he thought they should look for the bell on the right, because thats where everything grand and glorious could be found.
Well, then, our paths wont cross, said the kings son and nodded to the poor boy, who headed for the darkest and thickest part of the forest, where the thorns tore his poor clothes to shreds and bloodied his face, hands, and feet. The kings son also had a few deep scratches, but the sun shone on his path, and hes the one were going to follow, because he was a spirited lad.
I will and I must find that bell, he said. Even if I have to go to the ends of the earth.
Horrid monkeys sat high in the trees, gaping with all their teeth bared, Should we pelt him? they said. Should we pelt him? Hes a kings son!
But he walked undisturbed deeper and deeper into the forest, where the most wondrous flowers grew. There were white paradise lilies with blood-red filaments, sky-blue tulips that flashed in the wind, and apple trees with apples that looked exactly like huge, shimmering soap bubbles. Just imagine how those trees shone in the sunlight! Stags and does played in the grass in the loveliest green meadows where magnificent oaks and beech trees grow. If one of the trees had a split in the bark, grass and long vines grew from the crevice. There were also enormous stretches of forest with quiet lakes where white swans swam and flapped their wings. The kings son often stopped to listen, and many times he thought that the ringing of the bell was coming to him from one of the deep lakes. But then he realized that it wasnt coming from there at all. It was from even deeper in the forest that the bell was ringing.
Then the sun began to set. The air blazed red, like fire. It grew so quiet, so quiet inside the forest. He sank to his knees, sang his evening hymn, and said, Will I never find what Im looking for? Now the sun is setting, now night is coming, dark night. Yet maybe I could see the round, red sun one more time before it sinks completely behind the earth. Ill climb up on the rocks over there. Theyre as high as the tallest trees.
He grabbed hold of vines and roots, climbing up the wet rocks where water snakes were coiled, where toads seemed to be barking at him. But he reached the top before the sun had set completely, seen from that height. Oh, what splendor! The sea, the great glorious sea, tumbled its long waves against the shore and stretched out before him, with the sun floating like a great gleaming altar out where the sea and sky met. Everything merged into blazing colors. The forest sang and the sea sang and his heart sang too. All of nature was one great holy cathedral in which the trees and drifting clouds were the pillars, the flowers and grass the woven velvet cloth, and the sky itself the enormous dome. Up there the red colors were extinguished as the sun vanished, but millions of stars were lit, millions of diamond lamps glittered. And the kings son spread out his arms toward the sky, toward the sea and the forest.
At that moment, from the aisle on the right, appeared the poor boy with the short sleeves and the wooden clogs. He had arrived at the same time, taking his own path. The two boys ran to each other and head hands in the great cathedral of nature and poetry. Above them rang the invisible sacred bell, and blessed spirits hovered and danced around them to a jubilant Hallelujah!
I especially loved how he wrote about those who got distracted from the sound of the bell, or created substitutes for the bell, and there is a big surprise (at least it was to me) at the ending in the way that Andersen describes the setting of the forest... but I won't say anymore...
"The Bell"
By Hans Christian Andersen
In the evening in the narrow streets of the big city, when the sun went down and the clouds shone like gold up among the chimney tops, first one person and then another would often hear an odd sound, like the chiming of a church bell. But it was heard for only a moment, because there was such a rumbling of wagons and such shouting, and that was quite distracting. Now the evening bell is ringing, people would say. Now the sun is going down.
Those who were walking outside the city, where the houses stood far apart, with gardens and small fields, saw an even more splendid evening sky and heard the bell chime much louder. The sound seemed to come from a church deep inside the silent, fragrant forest, and people would look in that direction and grow quite solemn.
Many years passed, and one person began saying to another, I wonder if theres a church out there in the forest? That bell has a strange, lovely ring to it. Lets go out and take a closer look. And the rich people drove while the poor walked, but the road seemed exceptionally long. When they reached a grove of willow trees that grew at the edge of the forest, they sat down and looked up at the long branches and thought they were truly out in nature. A pastry chef from the city went out and pitched his tent, and then another pastry chef came along, and he hung a bell right over his tent, but it was the kind of bell that had been tarred to withstand the rain, and the clapper was missing. When people returned home, they said it had been so romantic, and that went far beyond tea-party chatter. Three people claimed to have gone all the way through the forest to the other side, and they had heard the strange bell ringing the whole time, but it seemed to them that the sound was coming from the city. One of them wrote an entire ballad about it and said that the bell rang like a mothers voice singing to a beloved child. No melody was lovelier than the chiming of that bell.
The Emperor of the country had also taken notice and promised that whoever could discover where the sound was coming from would win the title of World Bell-Ringer, even if it turned out not to be a bell.
Now many people went to the forest in the hope of acquiring that excellent position, but there was only one who came home with any sort of explanation. No one had gone far enough inside, not even this man, and yet he said that the bell sound came from an enormous owl inside a hollow tree. It was some kind of owl of wisdom who was constantly knocking its head against the tree, but whether the sound came from its head or from the hollow trunk, he couldnt yet say for certain. Then he was appointed World Bell-Ringer and each year he wrote a short dissertation about the owl. But no one was any the wiser.
Then confirmation day came around, and the pastor spoke so beautifully and fervently. Those who were to be confirmed were very moved. It was an important day for them; they had suddenly turned from children into grown-ups. Their childish souls now seemed to pass into more sensible adults. The sunshine was at its loveliest. The children who had been confirmed walked out of the city, and from the forest the great unknown bell chimed, wondrous and loud. They suddenly had such a desire to go to the forest, all but three of them. The first had to go home to try on her ball gown, because that gown and that ball were the reasons why she had been confirmed right now; otherwise she wouldnt have been invited. The second was a poor boy who had borrowed his confirmation jacket and boots from the landlords son, and they had to be returned at a certain time. The third said that he didnt go to strange places unless his parents went along, and he had always been a well-behaved child; thats what he would continue to be now, even after being confirmed. There was no need to make fun of him, but they did.
So three of them stayed behind as the others set off. The sun shone and the birds sang and the children sang too, holding each others hands, because they had not yet found work and were all recently confirmed before Our Lord.
But soon two of the youngest grew tired and headed back to the city. Two other girls sat down to make wreaths, so they didnt go along either. When the rest reached the willow trees and the pastry chefs tent, they said, Look, here we are! The bell doesnt exist at all. Its just something people have imagined.
At that very moment, from deep in the forest, the bell rang so sweetly and solemnly that four or five of the children decided to go farther into the forest. It was so dense, so laden with leaves that it was quite difficult to make any headway. Woodruff and windflowers seemed to grow much too high. Flowering convulus and blackberry vines hung in long garlands from tree to tree where the nightingale sang and the rays of sun played. Oh, it was so blissful, but there was no pathway for the girls to follow. Their clothes would have been torn to shreds. There were huge boulders covered with moss of all different colors. Fresh spring water was trickling out and saying, quite strangely, Glug, glug!
That couldnt be the bell, could it? said one of the boys as he lay down to listen. Were going to have to study this. Then he stayed behind and let the others continue on.
They came to a house made of bark and branches. A huge tree with wild apples was bending over it, as if to shake all its blessings onto the roof, which was covered with rose blossoms. The long branches wound around the whole gable, and from the gable hung a little bell. Could that be the one they had heard? Yes, they all thought it was, except for one boy. He said the bell was too small and delicate to be heard as far away as they had heard it, and that its tones were quite different from those that could move a human heart. The boy who spoke was a kings son, and so the others said, Someone like that always wants to seem more clever.
Then they let him continue on alone, and as he walked his chest became more and more filled with forest-loneliness. But he could still hear the little bell that had pleased the others, and sometimes, when the wind came from the direction of the pastry tent, he could also hear people singing as they drank tea. But the deep peals of the bell grew even louder; it soon sounded as if an organ were playing along. The sound came from the left, from the side of the heart.
Then there was a rustling in the thicket and a little boy stood in front of the kings son, a boy wearing wooden clogs and a jacket so short that it was quite clear what long wrists he had. They recognized each other. He was the boy who couldnt come along because he had to go home and return his jacket and boots to the landlords son. Thats what he had done, and then, wearing wooden clogs and his own ragged clothes, he had set off alone, because the ringing of the bell was so loud and deep that he had to find it.
We could go together, said the kings son. But the poor boy with the wooden clogs was quite bashful. He tugged at the short sleeves of his jacket and said he was afraid he wouldnt be able to walk fast enough. And besides, he thought they should look for the bell on the right, because thats where everything grand and glorious could be found.
Well, then, our paths wont cross, said the kings son and nodded to the poor boy, who headed for the darkest and thickest part of the forest, where the thorns tore his poor clothes to shreds and bloodied his face, hands, and feet. The kings son also had a few deep scratches, but the sun shone on his path, and hes the one were going to follow, because he was a spirited lad.
I will and I must find that bell, he said. Even if I have to go to the ends of the earth.
Horrid monkeys sat high in the trees, gaping with all their teeth bared, Should we pelt him? they said. Should we pelt him? Hes a kings son!
But he walked undisturbed deeper and deeper into the forest, where the most wondrous flowers grew. There were white paradise lilies with blood-red filaments, sky-blue tulips that flashed in the wind, and apple trees with apples that looked exactly like huge, shimmering soap bubbles. Just imagine how those trees shone in the sunlight! Stags and does played in the grass in the loveliest green meadows where magnificent oaks and beech trees grow. If one of the trees had a split in the bark, grass and long vines grew from the crevice. There were also enormous stretches of forest with quiet lakes where white swans swam and flapped their wings. The kings son often stopped to listen, and many times he thought that the ringing of the bell was coming to him from one of the deep lakes. But then he realized that it wasnt coming from there at all. It was from even deeper in the forest that the bell was ringing.
Then the sun began to set. The air blazed red, like fire. It grew so quiet, so quiet inside the forest. He sank to his knees, sang his evening hymn, and said, Will I never find what Im looking for? Now the sun is setting, now night is coming, dark night. Yet maybe I could see the round, red sun one more time before it sinks completely behind the earth. Ill climb up on the rocks over there. Theyre as high as the tallest trees.
He grabbed hold of vines and roots, climbing up the wet rocks where water snakes were coiled, where toads seemed to be barking at him. But he reached the top before the sun had set completely, seen from that height. Oh, what splendor! The sea, the great glorious sea, tumbled its long waves against the shore and stretched out before him, with the sun floating like a great gleaming altar out where the sea and sky met. Everything merged into blazing colors. The forest sang and the sea sang and his heart sang too. All of nature was one great holy cathedral in which the trees and drifting clouds were the pillars, the flowers and grass the woven velvet cloth, and the sky itself the enormous dome. Up there the red colors were extinguished as the sun vanished, but millions of stars were lit, millions of diamond lamps glittered. And the kings son spread out his arms toward the sky, toward the sea and the forest.
At that moment, from the aisle on the right, appeared the poor boy with the short sleeves and the wooden clogs. He had arrived at the same time, taking his own path. The two boys ran to each other and head hands in the great cathedral of nature and poetry. Above them rang the invisible sacred bell, and blessed spirits hovered and danced around them to a jubilant Hallelujah!
