You know the story well, right? The story of the sorceress?
She would appear to knights new to her shores as the fairest of all maidens, skin soft and sweetly kissed by the sun, lips full, eyes deep and green as the hills in spring. Every knight to behold her was captured by her beauty and insistent upon winning her hand in marriage, to know her as wife.
But none could have her, unless he first succeeded in a great feat of daring, a feat that could only be done by the finest of champions.
When a knight finally accomplished the task, he looked to the lady with barely restrained desire. Yet, even as his eyes feasted upon her beauty, she transformed. Before the knight, the sorceress changed into her true form, a hag bent and aged, hairs sprouting wildly from her loose jowls, one gray tooth standing forth as an obelisk.
And, with hag eyes alight, she took him who had meant to take her.
Is not the basic story of the sorceress our common experience with sin? She looks ravishing. We do great feats to have her. And all success gets us is bondage to the hag.
We also see this pattern play out in Martin Luther King Jr.’s work. The man was a servant of the devil, a heretic and womanizer, yet appeared with Baptist, suited handsomeness, preaching peace and character. Great feats were done for his cause, marches, sit-ins, boycotts, speeches.
And what was won? The beauty? No. A hag. Failed families and schools. Lost genuinely private ownership of businesses, with the freedom to serve whosoever one would serve. Christians treated as criminals for not celebrating sin.
Men judged not by the content of their character but by their intersectionality score.
Sorceress, sin, MLK. The promise is sweet. The pay is terrible.