Wise as Serpents, Innocent as Doves
There's this saying about collective intelligence in a flock of ducks. The idea is that problems one person can't solve alone can be tackled by two, three, or four people pooling their strength. If one person has an IQ of 100, two people hit 150, three reach 180, and so on—the more people, the higher the intelligence. But that also means individual smarts degrade rapidly as the group grows. The only thing that skyrockets with numbers is raw physical force. Intelligence drops, muscle multiplies, making crowds the perfect tool from a user's perspective. Look at the common thread in religions that have survived and thrived: massive cathedrals, appointed leaders, constant gatherings. Leave people alone, and their IQ rises—they start thinking for themselves. Or maybe it's to keep them from realizing their logic clashes with divine word. A faith that only grows in crowds? Anyone who thinks even a little knows that's not normal. Healthy faith starts with admitting that. So be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Those who can't set their own course just get swept along. Even church is just a tool—you have to know that.
"Teacher!!!!!!!!!! Seojun's saying weird stuff again!!!!!!"
Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. The last day wrapping up the week: Sunday, the Lord's Day—not the week's end, but the day of the Lord. The prodigal son, lured back into salvation's arms by a few culture gift certificates. The Sunday school heretic of Hope First Church was facing irrational persecution yet again.
"Tch-"
Hmm, even with cradle faith, too young for deep theological chats? After a raucous round of fun worship dances, it was discussion time on the theme: What do we need to do to go to heaven?
One kid argued you need deep faith to get to heaven. That sparked the question: How do you deepen faith? The answer: Don't skip church—show up regularly. A crystal-clear, one-dimensional conclusion. I just tossed in a slightly different take on what you could barely call logical reasoning—a stream of consciousness too flimsy to dignify as logic.
"Ahaha... Our Seojun is so smart. Uses big words so well. But how about using simpler words to be kind to your friends?"
The assistant teacher, still with baby fat in her cheeks, flashed an awkward smile in the awkward spot. I had no idea how to simplify it further, but she looked pitifully flustered, so I nodded along.
"Sure. I'll try."
Kids' discussion time doesn't drag on. Once group chats wrapped, back to dance time! Then snacks until mom and dad's service ended.
"Huh?"
Snack time now. But unlike usual, several assistant teachers filed in, each clutching a huge plastic bag in both hands.
"Today, Teacher Seokjin prepared chicken for everyone. Let's give him a big round of applause!!!"
"Waaaaaaah!!!!!!!!"
"It's chicken!!!!!!"
The kids screamed like the classroom roof would cave in at the Second Coming Chicken. Their cheers were so loud, people outside peeked in to check what was up. I wondered if even Jesus appearing right there would get this reaction.
"Okay, okay! Everyone gather by groups!!!"
Teachers and kids clustered in a circle around the chicken. I hadn't had it in ages, so my mouth watered.
"Whoa—jackpot."
I'd figured two chickens of seasoned-and-fried combo, but unpacking revealed premium stuff: Olive Fried, Spicy Mayo Boneless, Sweet Soy mix. Enough for kids and teachers to stuff themselves silly with leftovers.
My cheer matched the kids'.
"Teacher Seokjin really knows his stuff."
Sunday school has main teachers and assistants. A veteran churchgoer leads each class as the representative teacher. Special events like this? Straight from their pocket. So, rep teacher skill boils down to a fat wallet.
By that metric, Deacon Kim Seokjin was top-tier. Elder promotion track, pure honorary one-trick pony, or money pit with no upside—whatever the motive, that role took serious commitment. Even the attendance awards unique to elementary ministry came from here.
We loaded disposable plates with our picks, and smiles bloomed on the kids' faces as they chowed down.
"Insanely good..."
No chewy bits—just pure, tender bliss that slid down easy. Feeling greasy? Gulp of crisp soda. No fighting over pieces, plenty to go around, so I savored slowly. I'd planned a post-service noodle bowl at the cafeteria, but now I was too full to move.
"Burp-"
This is why I go to church.
Sprawled on the mat, Kim Seokjin approached my head.
"Seojun, mind a quick chat with teacher?"
Out of the blue?
"Why?"
"Remember what you said before? Wanna ask about that."
Oh, that.
"Sure."
Free food earned him a yes.
Seated quietly across from the child, Kim Seokjin recalled the senior pastor's repeated urging to watch Seojun closely. His long faith life included some belief in spiritual entities, but accepting the pastor's words outright needed time.
This young kid tormented by evil spirits. Lord...
Would Lee Suyeong and Park Seongmin only seek a shaman? Naturally, they hit the big familiar religion first.
"Remember when I scolded you for speaking carelessly to the teacher? Why'd you say that?"
"Exhume the grave?"
"Yeah... Why say that?"
Back then, no time, no big deal—he'd brushed it off lightly. But knowing this wasn't a normal kid, not the type for random outbursts, it nagged more over time.
"Hmm..."
I picked my words carefully.
"You know how ancestors build virtue so descendants get blessings? Or villains dodge punishment because ancestors protect them—that cheesy plot's everywhere lately."
"Famous saying... Yeah, heard it."
"So the opposite makes sense too, right?"
Good deeds build virtue, earn blessings. Famous words, somewhat true. But good doesn't always pay off quick—delayed, or passed to kids. So the flip? Evil deeds stack karma, bring disaster. Not instant punishment, but eventually big payback, sometimes kids bear it.
If villains skip punishment via ancestral merit, then good folks can suffer from ancestral sins. Especially believers. First wisdom always demands payment, forgiveness aside.
Why did David's mighty sons die, a lowly bastard inherit the throne? David's sin: killing loyal Uriah, taking his wife. Bible counts firstborn as husband's, so it severed David's line, letting Uriah's blood claim the crown.
"So exhume to cut ties completely with your father?"
"Eh, your call, teacher. But it's looking pretty precarious already."
Or other ways. Serve another being. Gain a god's full favoritism, escape karma.
"Want help?"
Kim Seokjin felt the demonic spirit right there. Crushing pressure choked his words. Lips twitched long before parting.
"N-no, uh, thanks for caring..."
His stiff, awkward face mirrored his unease. Chat ended meaningless.
Hmm, he'll figure it out. Big-hearted guy, genuine with kids—liked that, so I meddled a bit.
Back to the office, I stuffed gifts in my bag, grabbed a paper cup of leftover chicken in the other hand.
"Teacher, can I take one more?"
Glanced—extras left, so I pounced.
"Yeah, plenty. Take it."
"Sweet! See ya. Thanks for your hard work."
Parking lot: Mom waited in the car.
"Seojun, good service with friends?"
"Yeah, made this card too."
I pulled out my handmade 3D popup card.
Lee Suyeong unfolded it: tree, flowers, people appeared.
"Ooh, nice job. What's the theme?"
Hm, what was it?
"Our family in heaven."