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A CONFESSION [28]

By Root 482 0
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shore, shown the direction of the opposite shore, had oars put into

my unpractised hands, and was left alone. I rowed as best I could

and moved forward; but the further I advanced towards the middle of

the stream the more rapid grew the current bearing me away from my

goal and the more frequently did I encounter others, like myself,

borne away by the stream. There were a few rowers who continued to

row, there were others who had abandoned their oars; there were

large boats and immense vessels full of people. Some struggled

against the current, others yielded to it. And the further I went

the more, seeing the progress down the current of all those who

were adrift, I forgot the direction given me. In the very centre

of the stream, amid the crowd of boats and vessels which were being

borne down stream, I quite lost my direction and abandoned my oars.

Around me on all sides, with mirth and rejoicing, people with sails

and oars were borne down the stream, assuring me and each other

that no other direction was possible. And I believed them and

floated with them. And I was carried far; so far that I heard the

roar of the rapids in which I must be shattered, and I saw boats

shattered in them. And I recollected myself. I was long unable to

understand what had happened to me. I saw before me nothing but

destruction, towards which I was rushing and which I feared. I saw

no safety anywhere and did not know what to do; but, looking back,

I perceived innumerable boats which unceasingly and strenuously

pushed across the stream, and I remembered about the shore, the

oars, and the direction, and began to pull back upwards against the

stream and towards the whore.

That shore was God; that direction was tradition; the oars

were the freedom given me to pull for the shore and unite with God.

And so the force of life was renewed in me and I again began to

live.

XIII

I turned from the life of our circle, acknowledging that ours

is not life but a simulation of life -- that the conditions of

superfluity in which we live deprive us of the possibility of

understanding life, and that in order to understand life I must

understand not an exceptional life such as our who are parasites on

life, but the life of the simple labouring folk -- those who make

life -- and the meaning which they attribute to it. The simplest

labouring people around me were the Russian people, and I turned to

them and to the meaning of life which they give. That meaning, if

one can put it into words, was as follows: Every man has come into

this world by the will of God. And God has so made man that every

man can destroy his soul or save it. The aim of man in life is to

save his soul, and to save his soul he must live "godly" and to

live "godly" he must renounce all the pleasures of life, must

labour, humble himself, suffer, and be merciful. That meaning the

people obtain from the whole teaching of faith transmitted to them

by their pastors and by the traditions that live among the people.

This meaning was clear to me and near to my heart. But together

with this meaning of the popular faith of our non-sectarian folk,

among whom I live, much was inseparably bound up that revolted me

and seemed to me inexplicable: sacraments, Church services, fasts,

and the adoration of relics and icons. The people cannot separate

the one from the other, nor could I. And strange as much of what

entered into the faith of these people was to me, I accepted

everything, and attended the services, knelt morning and evening in

prayer, fasted, and prepared to receive the Eucharist: and at first

my reason did not resist anything. The very things that had

formerly seemed to me impossible did not now evoke in me any

opposition.

My relations to faith before and after were quite different.

Formerly life itself seemed to me full of meaning and faith

presented itself as the arbitrary assertion of propositions to me

quite unnecessary, unreasonable, and disconnected from

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