There was a wise sage who was admired, revered, and loved by all. It was the custom for his disciples to come to dinner at his humble home, where they would all share a meal of wine, meat, and bread.
They would sit around the table, and when the meat was served, the Sage would take his portion first, take a taste, and then fill the bowls of those seated at the table.
It was a big honor for the disciples to be served by such an exalted man.
But one night, something strange happened.
The cook brought out the large bowl of meat stew and placed it in front of the Sage. As usual, the Sage took a ladle of stew, filled his bowl, and took the first spoonful. He took a second spoonful. And a third. The Sage continued eating until his bowl was empty.
The disciples looked on with wonder. What was going on?
The Sage took the ladle and filled a second bowl of stew. He continued to eat that one, too. And another and another until the serving bowl was empty.
He asked the cook to bring out any more of the stew that might be left in the kitchen. When that stew was brought out, the Sage ate that until there was none left for anyone else.
The disciples, servants, cook, and kitchen staff were baffled by the Sage’s strange behavior.
When the meal ended, and all had dispersed, the Sage got up from the table and retired to his chambers.
Later that night, the disciples talked among themselves. Is there a spiritual meaning they should know? What is the lesson to be learned? They were all mystified.
The next day, one of the disciples had the courage to approach the Sage.
“Wise One, what is the deeper meaning to understand by withholding the meat from your devoted disciples last night?”
“I’ll tell you. Last night when I took the first spoonful of stew, I realized that the cook had made a mistake. It seemed to me that instead of using flour to thicken the gravy, a baking soda must have been used. The meat had an overwhelming metallic taste that was difficult to swallow and could be a danger to sensitive stomachs. If I let the stew be passed around, some may start complaining. I know the cook well. She is a kind woman, a good soul, and a widow with six children. To save the cook from embarrassment and likely reproach, I thought it best to leave you all to your bread and wine.”
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