The Gospel in Dostoyevsky. Fyodor Dostoyevsky

thinking, “What is that freedom worth if obedience is bought with bread?” You replied that man lives not by bread alone. But do you know that for the sake of that earthly bread the spirit of the earth will rise up against you and will strive with you and overcome you, and all will follow him, crying, “Who can compare with this beast? He has given us fire from heaven!” Do you know that the ages will pass, and humanity will proclaim by the lips of their sages that there is no crime, and therefore no sin; there is only hunger? “Feed men, and then ask of them virtue!” That’s what they’ll write on the banner they will raise against you, with which they will destroy your temple. Where your temple stood will rise a new building; the terrible tower of Babel will be built again, and though, like the one of old, it will not be finished, yet you might have prevented that new tower and have cut short the sufferings of men by a thousand years; for they will come back to us after a thousand years of agony with their tower. They will seek us again, hidden underground in the catacombs, for we shall be again persecuted and tortured. They will find us and cry to us, “Feed us, for those who have promised us fire from heaven haven’t given it!” And then we shall finish building their tower, for he who feeds them finishes the building. And we alone shall feed them in your name, declaring falsely that it is in your name. Oh, never, never can they feed themselves without us! No science will give them bread so long as they remain free. In the end they will lay their freedom at our feet and say to us, “Make us your slaves, but feed us.” They themselves will understand at last that freedom and bread enough for all are inconceivable together, for never, never will they be able to share fairly between them! They will be convinced, too, that they can never be free, for they are weak, vicious, worthless, and rebellious.

      “‘You promised them the bread of heaven, but I repeat again, can it compare with earthly bread in the eyes of the weak, ever sinful and ever ignoble race of man? And if for the sake of the bread of heaven thousands and tens of thousands will follow you, what is to become of the millions and tens of thousands of millions of creatures who will not have the strength to forego the earthly bread for the sake of the heavenly? Or do you care only for the tens of thousands of the great and strong while the millions, numerous as the sands of the sea, who are weak but love you must exist only for the sake of the great and strong? No, we care for the weak too. They are sinful and rebellious, but in the end they too will become obedient. They will marvel at us and look on us as gods because we are ready to endure freedom and rule over them – so awful will freedom seem to them.

      “‘But we shall tell them that we are your servants and rule them in your name. We shall deceive them again, for we will not let you come near us again. That deception will be our suffering, for we shall be forced to lie. This is the significance of the first question in the wilderness, and this is what you rejected for the sake of that freedom which you exalted above everything. Yet in this question lies hidden the great secret of this world. Choosing “bread,” you would have satisfied the universal and everlasting craving of humanity – to find someone to worship. So long as man remains free he strives for nothing so incessantly and so painfully as to find someone to worship. But man seeks to worship what is established beyond dispute, so that all men would agree at once to worship it. For these pitiful creatures are concerned not only to find what one or the other can worship but to find something that all would believe in and worship; what is essential is that all may be together in it. This craving for community of worship is the chief misery of every man individually and of all humanity from the beginning of time. For the sake of common worship they’ve slain each other with the sword. They have set up gods and challenged one another, “Put away your gods and come and worship ours, or we will kill you and your gods!” And so it will be to the end of the world, even when gods disappear from the earth; they will fall down before idols just the same. You knew, you could not help knowing, this fundamental secret of human nature, but you rejected the one infallible banner which was offered you to make all men bow down to you alone – the banner of earthly bread; and you rejected it for the sake of freedom and the bread of heaven. Behold what you did further. And all again in the name of freedom! I tell you that man is tormented by no greater anxiety than to find someone quickly to whom he can hand over that gift of freedom with which the ill-fated creature is born. But only the one who can appease their conscience can take over their freedom. In bread there was offered you an invincible banner; give bread, and man will worship you, for nothing is more certain than bread. But if someone else gains possession of his conscience – oh! then he will cast away your bread and follow after the one who has ensnared his conscience. In that you were right. For the secret of man’s being is not only to live but to have something to live for. Without a clear conception of the object of life, man would not consent to go on living and would rather destroy himself than remain on earth, though he had bread in abundance. That is true. But what happened? Instead of taking men’s freedom from them, you made it greater than ever! Did you forget that man prefers peace and even death to freedom of choice in the knowledge of good and evil? Nothing is more seductive for man than his freedom of conscience, but nothing is a greater cause of suffering. And behold, instead of giving a firm foundation for setting the conscience of man at rest forever, you chose all that is exceptional, vague, and enigmatic; you chose what was utterly beyond the strength of men, acting as though you did not love them at all – you who came to give your life for them! Instead of taking possession of men’s freedom, you increased it, and burdened the spiritual kingdom of mankind with its sufferings forever. You desired man’s free love so that he should follow you freely, enticed and taken captive by you. In place of the rigid, ancient law, man must hereafter with free heart decide for himself what is good and what is evil, having only your image before him as his guide. But did you not know he would at last reject even your image and your truth if he is weighed down with the fearful burden of free choice? They will cry aloud at last that the truth is not in you, for they could not have been left in greater confusion and suffering than you have caused, laying upon them so many cares and unanswerable problems.

      “‘So that, in truth, you yourself laid the foundation for the destruction of your kingdom, and no one is more to blame for it. Yet what was offered you? There are three powers, three powers alone, able to conquer and hold captive forever the conscience of these impotent rebels for their own happiness – those forces are miracle, mystery, and authority. You have rejected all three and have set the example for doing so. When the wise and dread spirit set you on the pinnacle of the temple and said to you, “If you would know whether you are the Son of God, then cast yourself down, for it is written: the angels shall hold him up lest he fall and bruise himself, and you shall know then whether you are the Son of God and shall prove then how great is your faith in your Father.” But you refused and would not cast yourself down. Oh! of course, you did proudly and well, like God; but the weak, unruly race of men, are they gods? Oh, you knew then that in taking one step, in making one movement to cast yourself down, you would be tempting God and would have lost all your faith in him, and would have been dashed to pieces against that earth which you came to save. And the wise spirit that tempted you would have rejoiced.

      “‘But I ask again, are there many like you? And could you believe for one moment that men too could face such a temptation? Is the nature of men such that they can reject miracles and at the great moments of their life, the moments of their deepest, most agonizing spiritual difficulties, cling only to the free verdict of the heart? Oh, you knew that your deed would be recorded in books, would be handed down to remote times and the utmost ends of the earth, and you hoped that man, following you, would cling to God and not ask for a miracle. But you did not know that when man rejects miracles, he rejects God too; for man seeks not so much God as the miraculous. And as man cannot bear to be without the miraculous, he will create new miracles of his own for himself and will worship deeds of sorcery and witchcraft, though he might be a hundred times over a rebel, heretic, and infidel. You did not come down from the cross when they shouted to you, mocking and reviling you, “Come down from the cross and we will believe that you are he.” You did not come down, for again you would not enslave man by a miracle and craved faith given freely, not based on miracle. You craved love freely given and not the base raptures of the slave before the might that has overawed him forever. But you thought too highly of men therein, for they are slaves, of course, though rebellious by nature. Look round and judge: fifteen centuries have passed; look upon them. Whom have you raised up to yourself? I swear, man is weaker and baser by nature than you have believed him! Can he, can