of life in me had been destroyed and I had reached theim
possibility of living, a cessation of life and the necessity of
suicide, so imperceptibly and gradually did that force of lifereturn to me. And strange to say the strength of life which
returned to me was not new, but quite old -- the same that hadborne me along in my earliest days.
I quite returned to what belonged to my earliest
childhood andyouth. I returned to the
belief in that Will which produced me and
desires something of me. I returned to the
belief that the chiefand only aim of my life is to be better, i.e. to live in accord
with that Will. and I returned to the
belief that I can find theexpression of that Will in what
humanity, in the distant past
hidden from, has produced for its
guidance: that is to say, Ireturned to a
belief in God, in moral
perfection, and in a
tradition transmitting the meaning of life. There was only thisdifference, that then all this was accepted
unconsciously, while
now I knew that without it I could not live. What happened to me was something like this: I was put into
a boat (I do not remember when) and pushed off from an unknownshore, shown the direction of the opposite shore, had oars put into
my unpractised hands, and was left alone. I rowed as best I couldand moved forward; but the further I
advanced towards the middle of
the
stream the more rapid grew the current
bearing me away from mygoal and the more
frequently did I
encounter others, like myself,
borne away by the
stream. There were a few rowers who continued torow, there were others who had
abandoned their oars; there were
large boats and
immense vessels full of people. Some struggledagainst the current, others yielded to it. And the further I went
the more,
seeing the progress down the current of all those whowere adrift, I forgot the direction given me. In the very centre
of the
stream, amid the crowd of boats and vessels which were beingborne down
stream, I quite lost my direction and
abandoned my oars.
Around me on all sides, with mirth and
rejoicing, people with sailsand oars were borne down the
stream, assuring me and each other
that no other direction was possible. And I believed them andfloated 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 boatsshattered in them. And I recollected myself. I was long
unable to
understand what had happened to me. I saw before me nothing butdestruction, 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, theoars, 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 oursis not life but a simulation of life -- that the conditions of
superfluity in which we live
deprive us of the
possibility ofunderstanding life, and that in order to understand life I must
understand not an
exceptional life such as our who are parasites onlife, but the life of the simple labouring folk -- those who make
life -- and the meaning which they
attribute to it. The simplestlabouring people around me were the Russian people, and I turned to
them and to the meaning of life which they give. That meaning, ifone 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 everyman 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 tolive "godly" he must
renounce all the pleasures of life, must
labour,
humble himself, suffer, and be
merciful. That meaning thepeople
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 whatentered into the faith of these people was to me, I accepted
everything, and attended the services, knelt morning and evening inprayer, 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 faithpresented itself as the
arbitraryassertion of propositions to me
quite unnecessary,
unreasonable, and disconnected from life. Ithen asked myself what meaning those propositions had and,
convinced that they had none, I rejected them. Now on the
contraryI knew
firmly that my life
otherwise has, and can have, no meaning,
and the articles of faith were far from presenting themselves to meas unnecessary -- on the
contrary I had been led by indubitable
experience to the
conviction that only these propositions presentedby faith give life a meaning.
formerly I looked on them as on some
quite unnecessary gibberish, but now, if I did not understand them,I yet knew that they had a meaning, and I said to myself that I
must learn to understand them. I argued as follows, telling myself that the knowledge of
faith flows, like all
humanity with its reason, from a mysterioussource. That source is God, the
origin both of the human body and
the human reason. As my body has descended to me from God, so alsohas my reason and my understanding of life, and
consequently the
various stages of the development of that understanding of lifecannot be false. All that people
sincerely believe in must be
true; it may be
differently expressed but it cannot be a lie, and
therefore if it presents itself to me as a lie, that only means
that I have not understood it. Furthermore I said to myself, the
essence of every faith consists in its giving life a meaning which
death does not destroy. Naturally for a faith to be able to replyto the questions of a king dying in
luxury, of an old slave
tormented by
overwork, of an unreasoning child, of a wise old man,of a half-witted old woman, of a young and happy wife, of a youth
tormented by passions, of all people in the most
varied conditionsof life and education -- if there is one reply to the one eternal
question of life: "Why do I live and what will result from mylife?" -- the reply, though one in its
essence, must be endlessly
varied in its
presentation; and the more it is one, the more trueand
profound it is, the more strange and deformed must it naturally
appear in its attempted expression, conformably to the educationand position of each person. But this
argument, justifying in my
eyes the queerness of much on the
ritual side of religion, did notsuffice to allow me in the one great affair of life -- religion --
to do things which seemed to me
questionable. With all my soul Iwished to be in a position to
mingle with the people, fulfilling
the
ritual side of their religion; but I could not do it. I feltthat I should lie to myself and mock at what was
sacred to me, were
I to do so. At this point, however, our new Russian theologicalwriters came to my rescue.
According to the
explanation these theologians gave, thefundamental dogma of our faith is the infallibility of the Church.
From the
admission of that dogma follows
inevitably the truth ofall that is professed by the Church. The Church as an
assembly of
true believers united by love and
therefore possessed of trueknowledge became the basis of my
belief. I told myself that
divinetruth cannot be
accessible to a separate individual; it is revealedonly to the whole
assembly of people united by love. To attain
truth one must not separate, and in order not to separate one mustlove and must
endure things one may not agree with.
Truth reveals itself to love, and if you do not
submit to therites of the Church you transgress against love; and by
transgressing against love you
deprive yourself of the
possibilityof recognizing the truth. I did not then see the sophistry
contained in this
argument. I did not see that union in love maygive the greatest love, but certainly cannot give us
divine truth
expressed in the
definite words of the Nicene Creed. I also didnot
perceive that love cannot make a certain expression of truth an
obligatory condition of union. I did not then see these mistakesin the
argument and thanks to it was able to accept and perform all
the rites of the Orthodox Church without understanding most ofthem. I then tried with all strength of my soul to avoid all
arguments and contradictions, and tried to explain as
reasonably aspossible the Church statements I
encountered.
When fulfilling the rites of the Church I
humbled my reasonand
submitted to the
tradition possessed by all
humanity. I united
myself with my forefathers: the father, mother, and grandparents Iloved. They and all my predecessors believed and lived, and they
produced me. I united myself also with the missions of the commonpeople whom I respected. Moveover, those actions had nothing bad
in themselves ("bad" I considered the
indulgence of one's desires). When rising early for Church services I knew I was doing well, if
only because I was sacrificing my
bodily ease to
humble my mentalpride, for the sake of union with my ancestors and contemporaries,
and for the sake of
finding the meaning of life. It was the samewith my preparations to receive Communion, and with the daily
reading of prayers with genuflections, and also with the observanceof all the fasts. However
insignificant these sacrifices might be
I made them for the sake of something good. I fasted, prepared forCommunion, and observed the fixed hours of prayer at home and in
church. During Church service I attended to every word, and gavethem a meaning
whenever I could. In the Mass the most important
words for me were: "Let us love one another in conformity!" Thefurther words, "In unity we believe in the Father, the Son, and
Holy Ghost", I passed by, because I could not understand them. XIV
In was then so necessary for me to believe in order to livethat I
unconsciously concealed from myself the contradictions and
obscurities of
theology. but this
reading of meanings into therites had its limits. If the chief words in the prayer for the
Emperor became more and more clear to me, if I found some
explanation for the words "and remembering our Sovereign Most-Holy
Mother of God and all the Saints, ourselves and one another, wegive our whole life to Christ our God", if I explained to myself
the
frequentrepetition of prayers for the Tsar and his relationsby the fact that they are more exposed to temptations than other
people and
therefore are more in need of being prayed for -- theprayers about subduing our enemies and evil under our feet (even if
one tried to say that *sin* was the enemy prayed against), theseand other prayers, such as the "cherubic song" and the whole
sacrament of oblation, or "the chosen Warriors", etc. -- quite two-thirds of all the services -- either remained completely
incomprehensible or, when I forced an
explanation into them, mademe feel that I was lying,
thereby quite destroying my relation to
God and depriving me of all
possibility of
belief. I felt the same about the
celebration of the chief
holidays.
To remember the Sabbath, that is to devote one day to God, wassomething I could understand. But the chief
holiday was in