Treasure Maps

All children love treasure maps, the same way all Rabbis love the Torah. A little child will spend hours hovered around a treasure map, his or her youthful eyes carefully considering every signpost and legend. If it is true that a Rabbi hopes the Lord will write the words of the sacred text upon his heart, then it is also true that a child hopes the Lord will give them the grace to memorize the map key. If it is true that a Rabbi will carefully consider every letter for the purpose of drawing some spiritual insight from the sacred text, then it is also true that a child will carefully consider every crooked tree and collimating river. The Rabbi knows that there is a Treasure beyond all treasures in the sacred text, the same way a child knows that the rivers on the map feed into some hidden lagoon, which once hosted a Pirate’s Armada bloated with bullion. And, of course, the focal point of every treasure map is that formidable and mysteriously looming X. It is always bold and black, stylized by the nuances and curvatures of some ancient font.

All types of joy and excitement are identified and contained within that mysterious X, for it is equal to some known unknown, the same way an X is used in a basic math problem. For a child, the X represents all the joy that newfound discovery has to offer.

Today, however, children are no longer seeking after buried treasures. The youth of today have grown up too quickly. They are too much like their parents, for they no longer care to be surprised by joy and they no longer care to commit themselves to the pursuit of the known unknown.

The youth of today have replaced the symbol on the treasure map with another image, a symbol masquerading as the original symbol. This new image lies in their living room. It nearly always makes the list denoting contents of their bedrooms. If you stroll along any parkway or in any local bookstore, you will see it referred to on billboards and magazine racks. It has pervaded their every thought, even to the point that their newest gaming console has been constructed in the exact shape of their imposturous symbol. It is just as obvious as the X marked on a vile of poison, a label which declares the presence of dangerous contaminants. And it is this new X, the one displayed on billboards and in magazines, the same image which is sitting upon their living floors, which prophetically utters, in the same fashion that a vile containing poison does, “Do not take a single step closer, for the thing before you is known to kill. Mystery and game do not lay herein, for only pain and disenchantment are derived from such things. There is no mystery, only the ability to end all mystery; and there are no games, only the possibility of ending all games. And if you fail to pay attention to my advice, then you will have forfeited your ability to ever again be surprised by discovery and joy!”

These new youth, though there is nothing original about them, are counterfeit. Some people say that youth is wasted on the young, but this is not true of the youth I was formerly speaking of, but it is true of these latter youth. The youth of today have failed to fulfill their duty to participate in the games naturally created by life. They no longer choose to participate and fulfill the requirements of what it means to be a son, a brother, an extended family member, or a child. They do not look to the sky and wonder, and they refuse to look at something as static as a treasure map. They want dynamics, and because of this lust they have abdicated their responsibility as little children to run around wild as mother wit, yet all the while maintaining reverence for mother wisdom.

And the tragedy of it all is this: The youth are not to blame, for they have been misled by those who came before them. It is you and I who are responsible for their shortcomings, for we handed them snakes and rocks, and in so doing, we failed to give them wine and bread.