Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: PRIDE (inflated opinion of one’s self) (02/19/15)
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TITLE: The Tempters� Counsels: Minutes of the Third Committee | Previous Challenge Entry
By David Butler
02/26/15 -
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‘Shut up, you peasants! Why are demons so darn hard to get along with? Stop this bickering over superiority! We’ve got work to do!’
They were immediately cowed into silence. No-one messed with Senior Devils if they valued their gristly hides.
‘Now listen up, you lot. You’ve been called in because you claim some success with the pride-weapon, right? We’ve orders from Lower Down to hit this new “All Welcome” church hard before we lose more souls. They’re in Revival! The Lust and Greed teams are hard at work but aren’t making headway. That Pastor’s leaders are too dedicated and disciplined. It’s up to you now. Show me what you’ve got. Do that “Angel of Light” thing.’
The oldest demon stood up, transforming himself into a medieval baron and bowed gracefully toward the Chair. The others hooted derisively.
‘Behold, my lord,’ he announced suavely, ‘The time-honored power of prestige and lineage. I am sure that some have enough Norman blood in them to boast of and lord it over the rest, but….’
He transformed himself into a smart and ambitious-looking businessman.
‘…our clients may prefer an updated version. Nothing like success to bring about a big failure.’ He smirked.
MT was unimpressed.
‘Who’s gonna fall for that old gag? They’re street-born and trained, committed to helping street people. Try another approach. If they build another mega-church, they might fall for it then. Next!’
A dirty, slouching demon leapt on the table, taking the form of a belligerent working man. He gestured crudely to the eldest demon and came swaggering up toward the Chair, spitting and blowing smoke in the others’ faces.
‘Street rats, are they? Well I can make ‘em proud of that. The mob rules! Pressure these precious ‘n pure little saints into bein’ hard-swearin’, hard-drinkin’ womanizers, and they’ll think they’ll win the mob over. It’s that useless, “relly-vant” gospel without no salt, hey?’
‘Hmm, well, inverted pride has snared many of the masses, it’s true,’ remarked MT, slightly skeptical ‘but these street-workers have already shown they won’t be pressured by public opinion. But try it anyway. Next!’
The next demon made it quite obvious how it would tempt the male Christians and distract the females from their gospel-focus. MT waved it away.
‘Yeah, Okay, Okay! Vanity might work for middle and upper class, and that’s a time-honored method too. No need to pirouette in front of me – I’m no sleazy human. But wait! Can you do a male version? Yeah that’ll do too. Go link up with the Lust Team and strut your stuff, but I’m not that convinced it’ll work. Those Christians are an ugly lot anyway. Next!’
A superior-looking demon came and sat in an armchair, assuming the form of a self-assured and eccentric intellectual, a custodian of wisdom. In cultured and measured tones, he explained, rather pompously, how the authority of the scriptures could be undermined. By stressing the superiority of highly-evolved 21st century man, there was no need for these religious fairy tales. Science had totally disproved the scriptures. Man had outgrown Christianity.
MT was impressed but cautious.
‘A lot of fervent Christians have lost their faith by falling for that line. It could still work. We can keep the cultural pressure on them and keep them ignorant of the huge inconsistencies in the evolution argument. But don’t let them think for themselves! Let them think that they gotta be “relevant” and “progressive” and believe what their lecturer tells them unquestioningly.’
The fake professor sniggered.
‘Chronological snobbery. It gets them every time. Each generation thinks that previous generations are ignoramuses.’
‘Yeah, but don’t overdo it. Appeal to their intellectual pride by all means, but don’t let them investigate real facts and compare the evidence. Some of those people are too well-versed on the science/scripture harmony. Next!’
This demon didn't bother changing shape. A multi-headed serpent, it slithered forward, disappearing from sight. It came up behind MT and hissed in his ear.
‘We are the true predatorsss. We feed on sstrife. A little flattery here, a disssparaging word there. We whisssper in their earssss. “You are right. They are wrong.” We maximizzze victoriessss, ignore failureses. They will sscorn good counselss. No accountability to anyone. Make them too busy to join small groupsess.’
MT approved.
‘Finally! Mixed strategies that often succeed. (Except for the most mature among them, of course.) Do it!’
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