Letters of the Law

by Bob Prouty

Once upon a time there were six vowels who went to church: A, E, I, O, U, and sometimes Y. It was an orderly little church with 26 members. Other than the vowels, the rest were consonants.
The consonants were the strict ones. They loved rules. “Mind your ‘p’s and ‘q’s,” they would say.
The vowels were easygoing and carefree. They’d sound one way in one word and different in the next. They followed rules, mind you, just as the consonants did; but the results just didn’t come out the same.
Take their approach to worship, for instance. The consonants went to church King James style. Thees and thous. Same pews every week. Music in a key that no one could sing.
But the vowels went to church like a modern version. They sang special music with a beat and asked questions from the heart. Sometimes they even skipped church altogether and went hiking in the park.
You wouldn’t think that, with such a different approach, the vowels and the consonants could ever get along, but somehow they seemed to understand that God had brought them together on purpose.
For the vowels reminded the consonants that worship is an active, living process, not a collection of lifeless rules laid out in a book. They liked to quote Isaiah, who knew something about vowels himself. Isaiah didn’t believe in empty worship. “This is not the worship I desire. I seek justice. Defend the cause of the fatherless. Plead the case of the widow” (see Isaiah 1).
The consonants liked the book of Psalms. “I was glad when they said unto me, Let us go into the house of the Lord” (Psalm 122:1). “O come, let us worship and bow down; let us kneel before the Lord our maker” (Psalm 95:6). They were a reminder to the vowels that Jesus Himself said, “Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them” (Matthew 18:20). And there was no doubt, as the years went by, that He was indeed in the midst of them, Jesus—the Living Word.

The small controversy
One day, for reasons no one ever quite understood, the vowels started to argue about which of them should be first. They say it was A who started it all.
“I should always be first,” declared A. “Look in the dictionary. Look at the alphabet. I’m always first.”
“Just a minute,” said I. “Don’t forget that little saying we learned in school. I before E.”
“Except after C,” retorted E angrily, “or when it says ay, as in neighbor and weigh.”
And just like that, before anyone else even knew there was a problem, the vowels were no longer on speaking terms—even A and E, who’d been inseparable for aeons. This made it hard for them to talk, since they absolutely refused to cooperate in any way. A would use only words with “a”s in them. E would use only words with “e”s, and so on.
“If I’m right, I’m right,” said I.
“O knows,” said O.
“We ‘E’s,” said E, “we’re perfect.”
“Truth,” muttered U. “Truth, truth, truth.”
“And that’s that!” added A.
“Hmmpff!” said the consonants. To their credit, they knew the vowels couldn’t get along without them, and they couldn’t get along without the vowels. So off they went to find the preacher.
The preacher pleaded with the vowels. He quoted Hebrews 10:25: “’Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together . . .’
“None of us can do much by ourselves,” he pointed out. “What kind of witness can we bear? What kind of worship can we offer? And you’re all caught up with who is right and who is wrong. Remember, ‘true worshipers shall worship the Father in spirit and truth’ (John 4:23). There are two parts to true worship. The letter of the law and the spirit of the law. After all, you can’t share the Word if you don’t share yourselves.”
But the vowels were having none of it.
“Never,” said E.
“Uh-uh,” said U.
“No go,” said O.
“I’m with him,” said I.
“Why try?” asked Y.
“A man can stand what a man can stand and that’s all that a man can stand,” said A.
“All right,” said the preacher, who had decided it was time to try a different approach. “Contest time! Let’s see what it’s really like to live life on your own. You’ll start off standing, and if you can’t answer my question, you’ll have to sit down and admit you were wrong.”
“Perfect,” said E. “We ‘E’s never need help. We’ve never even needed these lesser letters. We’re the best there’s ever been.”
“Not so,” said O. “’O’s know how to go on nonstop. Don’t look for old O to go down so soon.”
I disagreed with both of them. “If I’m in this thing, I think I will win it,” he said. “I think I will finish first.”
“Fat chants,” said A, hoping nobody noticed the spelling.
“Shut up!” demanded U.
“My, my,” said Y, who was secretly wondering how far he could get with words like “crypt” and “gypsy” and “rhythm.”
“Question number one,” said the preacher. “What’s your favorite hymn?”
“Hymn?” said Y.
“Redeemed!” said E.
“Gulp,” said U, sitting down with embarrassment.
“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” said I.
“Oh-oh!” moaned O. “O not do so good on own.” And with that, he joined U and Y, who had already taken their seats.
“That’s a land that stands ajar,” muttered A, hopelessly muddled.
“Bringing in . . .” started I, before stopping in confusion. “This is . . .” he started again. “I, I . . .,” he stammered, and then sat down.
Question number two,” said the preacher. “What’s your favorite Bible text?”
“What, and shall a man stand at Canaan land?” said A.
“Very good,” said the preacher, “but I don’t remember that verse. Where’s it found?” But A was already sitting down with the others. Only E was plunging bravely ahead.
“Esther seven three,” she said with ease. “When Esther entered Xerxes’ presence, he extended the bejeweled scepter where she knelt.”
“H’mmm,” said the preacher. “What version of the Bible are you using?”
“The newest,” replied E. Yet she knew there was no such version, and meekly sat down with the others. Now all the vowels were silent. It was the preacher who spoke.
“I think we’ve learned a lesson,” he said. “You can’t put limits on God’s Word. You can put limits only on yourselves. You have argued about words. You have boasted about words. Now it’s time to put all of that behind and be ‘doers of the word’ (James 1:22). That’s what true worship is.”
Well, it was a red-letter day in the church’s history, with a subdued group of vowels and consonants who had a lot to think about. And ever since, the little church has been a different place. It’s still not letter-perfect, but its members are worshiping together in spirit and in truth and finding that when Christ comes first, everything else is as easy as ABC.