A Restorationist Parable
There was once a wide, quiet pond where many small fish lived. They swam in circles, bumping into one another, darting away from shadows, always watching the surface for danger.
One day, a fisherman walked to the edge of the pond. He cast his line into the water.
The little fish panicked.
“He can’t see me,” one whispered. “He won’t notice me,” said another. “He’s after someone else,” said a third.
But the fisherman saw everything.
He saw the fish that swam boldly near the surface, pretending to be leaders. He saw the fish that hid behind rocks, hoping no one would ask them to act. He saw the fish that made big splashes to look important, even though the pond never changed.
The fisherman shook his head.
“You were meant to be stewards of this water,” he said. “But you’ve become creatures of fear. You hide from the hook of accountability. You swim as if no one is watching. You forget that this pond belongs to the people who drink from it.”
The fish looked at one another.
“What can we do?” one asked. “We are too small,” said another. “The pond is too big,” said a third.
The fisherman replied:
“You are small because the pond has made you small. But you were not created to be little fish. You were meant to be guardians. If you cannot guard the pond, then leave it. If you cannot fix the water, then stop pretending you can. If you cannot rise to the surface, then stop blocking the light for those who might.”
And with that, he reeled in his line and walked away.
The pond grew still.
Some fish kept swimming in circles. Some hid behind the reeds. But a few rose toward the surface, realizing for the first time that the fisherman had been right.
They were not invisible. They were accountable. And the pond would not heal until they stopped acting like little fish.
