Envision human figures living in an underground cave with a long entrance across the whole width of the cave. Here they’ve been from their childhood, and had their legs and necks chained so that they cannot move and can only see before them, being prevented by the chains from turning their heads around. Above and behind them a fire is placed into distance. They see only their own shadows which the fire throws on the opposite wall of the cave for how could they see anything but the shadows, if they were never allowed to move their heads?
Between the fire and the prisoners, there is a raised way and a low wall, built along the way like the screen which puppet players have in front of them over which they show the puppets. You see men passing along the wall, carrying all sorts of articles, which they hold projected above the wall. Statues of men and animals, made of wood and stone and various materials. Of the objects which are being carried in like manner, they would only see the shadows and if they were able to converse with one another, would they not suppose that they were naming what was actually before them? And suppose further that there was an echo which came from the wall. Would they not be sure to think that when one of the passers by spoke that the voice came from the passing shadows? To them the truth would be literally nothing but the shadows of the images.
And now look again and see what would naturally follow if one of the prisoners is released. At first, when he is liberated and compelled suddenly to stand up and turn his head around and look towards the light, all this would hurt him and he would be much too dazzled to see distinctly those things whose shadows he’d seen before. And then conceive someone saying to him that what he saw before was an illusion but that now when he is approaching nearer to reality and his eyes turn toward more real existence he has a clearer vision. What will be his reply?
And you may further imagine his instructors pointing to the objects as they pass and requiring him to name them, will he not be perplexed? Will he not think that the shadows which he formerly saw, are truer than the objects which are now shown to him?
And suppose once more that he is reluctantly dragged up a steep and rugged ascent and held fast until he is forced into the presence of the sun itself. When he approaches the light, his eyes would be dazzled and he wouldn’t be able to see anything at all of what are now called realities he would be required to grow accustomed to the sight of the upper world. At first he would see the shadows best, next the reflections of objects in the water, and then the objects themselves. Then he would gaze upon the stars and the spangled heavens, and the light of the moon. He would see the sky and the stars by night. Last of all, he would be able to see the sun and not mere reflections of it in the water, but he would see the sun in its own proper place and not in an other. And he would contemplate the sun as it is. Would he not then proceed to argue that it is the sun who gives the seasons and the years and is the guardian of all that is in the visible world, and in a certain way the cause of all things which his fellows had been accustomed to behold?
Clearly he would first see the sun, and then reason about it. And when he remembered his old habitation and what was the wisdom of the cave and his fellow prisoners, do you not suppose that he would bless himself for the change and pity them? And if they were in a habit of conferring honors among themselves on those who were the quickest to observe the passing shadows and to remark which of them went before and which followed after, and which would to gather and who were therefore was best able to draw conclusions as to the future do you think that he would care for such honors and glories or envy the possesors of them? Would he not say, with Homer, “better to be the poor servant of a poor master and to endure anything rather than think as they do, and live after their manner.”
Imagine, once more, such a one, coming suddenly out of the sun, to be replaced in his old situation would he not be certain to have his eyes full of darkness? And if there were a contest of measuring the shadows, and he had to compete with the prisoners who were never hold out of the depth, while his sight was still weak and before his eyes had become steady, wouldn’t they all laugh at him and say that it spoiled his eyesight by going up there? That it was better not to even think of ascending? And if anyone tried to release another and lead him up to the light let them only catch the offender, and they would put him to death.
It is the task of the enlightened, not only to ascend to learning and to see the good but to be willing to descend again to those prisoners and to share their troubles and their honors whether they are worth having or not. And this they must do, even with the prospect of death. They shall give of their help to one another, wherever each class is able to help the community.

If we are going to take the allegory seriously, then the enlightened are obligated:
“to descend again to those prisoners and to share their troubles and their honors,whether they are worth having or not.”
As it pertains to the shadowy circumstances of our unique inheritance, that means reactivating and helping members according to the common bond of ignorance that they altogether share, namely, that this Church is true.
The CES Letter is no Sun. It is only an indictment for poor workmanship; a tell-all, selectively spotlighting only flaws in myths that were formed to improve and unite us, so as to instead incite a betrayal as impetuous as the faith with which we first accepted the good in them, by exposing every available imperfection in those puppets of our establishment, which our forbears bequeathed to this generation; a sordid scoop bent on shaming the better face of our heritage, which though prescribed to us by history, we are yet denounced for trying to improve. At the very least, do not, by calling it so, insult Truth; nor break faith with reason, her apt substitute.
Enlightenment is not something you choose, except on a journey to lose. There is education and there is learning. The first is what they feed you, but the second starves for truth. To rob others of their sustenance would make the hungry useless and to suffer a sacrifice which they would otherwise choose in due time.
How do the beasts groan! the herds of cattle are perplexed, because they have no pasture; yea, the flocks of sheep are made desolate.
If you possess the Truth, then it is only by way of struggle and sacrifice. Do not rob others of their food, what else will they have in consequence? They will starve but not for truth. They will suffer but only for more food.
“Wouldn’t they all laugh at him and say that he had spoiled his eyesight by going up there? That it was better not to even think of ascending? If anyone tried to release another to lead him up to the light, let them only capture the offender and they would put him to death.”
Use puppetry.