I was revisiting some of Off the Beaten Track today and this story hit me again as I thought about church and change.
The prison walls had become the home they had forgotten, so long had they been there amongst the dust and dirt that any memory of the outside world was but a dream to them.
One day, which started like any other, they huddled together to talk. Having the same conversation they’d had every day for as long as any of them could remember, talk of escape. In the middle of this discussion something unusual happened. The cell door swung open.
The prisoners cowered against the back wall, shielding their eyes from the bright sunlight. A man stood there, someone they didn’t recognise, for had they not seen or heard anyone for these long years? The man spoke to them saying;‘You are free to go.’ The group sat in silence, for though they had planned to leave; now they were too afraid to do so. What world was out there? A place that surely must have changed beyond recognition. The prison walls suddenly seemed appealing, for hadn’t it become their home? No one moved, until one man, cautiously making his way to his feet, crossed the small cell and averting his gaze from what lay beyond quietly closed the door.