Resurrection

And none of those present, from the inspector down to Maslova,

seemed conscious of the fact that this Jesus, whose name the

priest repeated such a great number of times, and whom he praised

with all these curious expressions, had forbidden the very things

that were being done there; that He had prohibited not only this

meaningless much-speaking and the blasphemous incantation over

the bread and wine, but had also, in the clearest words,

forbidden men to call other men their master, and to pray in

temples; and had ordered that every one should pray in solitude,

had forbidden to erect temples, saying that He had come to

destroy them, and that one should worship, not in a temple, but

in spirit and in truth; and, above all, that He had forbidden not

only to judge, to imprison, to torment, to execute men, as was

being done here, but had prohibited any kind of violence, saying

that He had come to give freedom to the captives.

No one present seemed conscious that all that was going on here

was the greatest blasphemy and a supreme mockery of that same

Christ in whose name it was being done. No one seemed to realise

that the gilt cross with the enamel medallions at the ends, which

the priest held out to the people to be kissed, was nothing but

the emblem of that gallows on which Christ had been executed for

denouncing just what was going on here. That these priests, who

imagined they were eating and drinking the body and blood of

Christ in the form of bread and wine, did in reality eat and

drink His flesh and His blood, but not as wine and bits of bread,

but by ensnaring "these little ones" with whom He identified

Himself, by depriving them of the greatest blessings and

submitting them to most cruel torments, and by hiding from men

the tidings of great joy which He had brought. That thought did

not enter into the mind of any one present.

The priest did his part with a quiet conscience, because he was

brought up from childhood to consider that the only true faith

was the faith which had been held by all the holy men of olden

times and was still held by the Church, and demanded by the State

authorities. He did not believe that the bread turned into flesh,

that it was useful for the soul to repeat so many words, or that

he had actually swallowed a bit of God. No one could believe

this, but he believed that one ought to hold this faith. What

strengthened him most in this faith was the fact that, for

fulfilling the demands of this faith, he had for the last 15

years been able to draw an income, which enabled him to keep his

family, send his son to a gymnasium and his daughter to a school

for the daughters of the clergy. The deacon believed in the same

manner, and even more firmly than the priest, for he had

forgotten the substance of the dogmas of this faith, and knew

only that the prayers for the dead, the masses, with and without

the acathistus, all had a definite price, which real Christians

readily paid, and, therefore, he called out his "have mercy, have

mercy," very willingly, and read and said what was appointed,

with the same quiet certainty of its being necessary to do so

with which other men sell faggots, flour, or potatoes. The prison

inspector and the warders, though they had never understood or

gone into the meaning of these dogmas and of all that went on in

church, believed that they must believe, because the higher

authorities and the Tsar himself believed in it. Besides, though

faintly (and themselves unable to explain why), they felt that

this faith defended their cruel occupations. If this faith did

not exist it would have been more difficult, perhaps impossible,

for them to use all their powers to torment people, as they were

now doing, with a quiet conscience. The inspector was such a

kind-hearted man that he could not have lived as he was now

living unsupported by his faith. Therefore, he stood motionless,

bowed and crossed himself zealously, tried to feel touched when

the song about the cherubims was being sung, and when the

children received communion he lifted one of them, and held him

up to the priest with his own hands.