The Giver

Our youngest daughter had just finished reading a book which she was assigned over the summer by her school.  Her older sister had also read it two years ago in English class.  A small discussion about the book had ensued.  Neither girl liked the story very much, and both were frustrated with the ending.  I pointed out that the intent was not necessarily to entertain the reader, but to expose them to some specific form of writing or ideas.  This suggestion landed with a thud.  My curiosity was high.  There was no other option but to read the book myself.

It didn’t take long before I understood the girl’s discomfort with the story.  The society being described was extreme, with bizarre ideas carried to the nth degree.  In an attempt to create the perfect world, almost all personal choice had been eliminated.  A plan for daily life had been carefully laid out, and everyone was expected to follow it, without question.

Immediately I began to wonder what the author was poking at.  Perhaps she had in mind religion, or a political party.  Surely it was one of those books some parents would find objectionable.  Eventually I speculated her gripe may have been with anyone who attempted to make groups of people think in the same, unquestioning way.

The story revolves around a twelve year old boy who is about to be assigned his life’s work.  One of the peculiar practices of the society is for a group of elders to choose this work for each member in the year they turn twelve.  After that assignment, the child starts a season of training.

It is revealed that the young boy has been chosen for the role of “Receiver of Memories”.  This is the most honored role in the community, and the most difficult.  It had been decided long ago that memories were often painful and therefore counterproductive.  The society concluded that it would be better for members not to be burdened with such things.  But along with the removal of memories came with the loss of wisdom.

They did recognize that on occasion, memories served a purpose, specifically in decision making.  Without memories of the past, the wisdom gained from experience was not available.  This was where the Receiver of Memories stepped in.   Memories were transferred to this person, and when his wisdom was required, he would be called upon to give counsel.

The boy begins his training as the new Receiver of Memories under the tutelage of the current Receiver, an old bearded man aged beyond his years.  The more the boy learns of his assignment, the more uncomfortable he becomes with it.  The training is grueling.  It requires the current Receiver, who becomes known as the Giver, to “give” the memories to the boy.  The boy gradually begins to question the whole concept of Receiver of Memories, and as he voices this to the old man, he too begins to confide in the boy that the system is a poor one.

The two discuss the tragedy that has taken place in this society.  So much has been given up – choice, emotion, even love, all for the sake of the supposed good of the whole.  It has been a heartbreaking experiment.  Much has been lost, and much must be recovered. The question is how to change it. 

At this point in the reading of the book I sensed something else going on.  It was as if The Lord wanted to show me something through this story - not about the story itself, but about my own heart.  As I read, as much as I often mistrust feelings, I could feel something building. 

The Lord seemed to want to address my own heart through the character of this young boy.  As the story unfolds, the boy and the old man begin to plan how to remedy the error this society has made.  The solution, not surprisingly, involves a sacrifice.  The boy must leave the community at the risk of losing his own life.  If he succeeds, and gets far enough away, the memories the people have lost will be returned to them.  They will go through a period of great stress, but the old man will remain to help them work through it.  The fate of the boy is a question that can’t quite be answered on this side of the plan. 

In these pages, I saw an issue in my heart concerning my own selfish ambition.  It may sound benign, and did in fact appear that way to me prior to this, but The Lord began to speak to my heart about my desire for self-fulfillment.  What can possibly be wrong with the desire for self-fulfillment?  Just one thing – the word self. 

As I read about the selfless act of this twelve year old boy, I couldn’t help but think of Jesus.  I was reminded quite clearly that self-fulfillment was not the way of Christ.  He did not come to fulfill His own desires.  He came to put aside His desires for a greater purpose, and that purpose was to re-connect us with The Father.  At the cross, He laid down His fellowship with The Father. 

My desire for self-fulfillment was not Christ-like at all.  I hesitate to even use the words, but in a sense, those desires are ANTI-Christ.  They are against, the opposite of, and in place of Christ.  They are not of Him.  It was a quick and startling revelation.

Does this mean we must live in a constant state of introspection, brooding over our need to abandon our own ambitions?  Of course not.  Take a look at Christ.  While He laid down his life for us, we would all agree that He was doing exactly what He really desired to do - down to His core.  It is a difficult paradox to comprehend.  He was fulfilled in the sacrifice of His own life.

What this does mean is that when we are bumbling along, and the picture in our mind of what “fulfillment” is all about goes awry, The Lord will be faithful to show us Christ.  It may come from the most unlikely sources, at the most unexpected times.  As He does this work, our “self-fulfillment” will look more and more like Christ laying down His life for the benefit of those around him.  And that will become our fulfillment.  It will be what we desire at our very core.  He becomes, through us, The Giver.

First appeared in the August, 2011 edition of the Manna. http://readthemanna.org