How To Be Convinced

'I suffer, forgive me, I suffer ...' And in a hot rush of feeling she clasped her hands before him.

'From what in particular?'

'I suffer ... from a lack of faith ...'

'A lack of faith in God?'

'Oh no, no, of that I do not even dare to think, no, it's the life to come - that is such a riddle! And I mean, there is no one, no one who can answer it! Look, you are a healer, a connoisseur of the human soul: I, of course cannot demand that you believe me entirely, but I assure you by the most solemn precept that not out of light-mindedness do I say to you now that this notion of a future life beyond the grave agitates me to the point of torture, of horror and of panic ... And I do not know who to turn to, all my life I have not dared ... and so now I am making so bold as to turn to you. Oh God, what sort of woman will you think me now?' She wrung her hands.

'Do not be troubled on account of my opinion,' the Elder replied. 'I fully believe in the sincerity of your anguish.'

'Oh, I am so grateful to you! You see, I close my eyes and think: if everyone else believes, then why do I feel all this? And now people say that it all stems in the first place from a fear of nature's frightening manifestations and that none of it is based in reality. But wait, I think: all my life I've believed that I shall die, and that suddenly there will be nothing there, only "burdock growing on a grave", as I read in the work of a certain writer. That is dreadful! How, how am I to restore my faith?

Though actually, I only had it when I was a little girl, it was something automatic, something I didn't even need to think about ... How, how can it be proven? I have come now to abase myself before you and ask you for this. I mean, if I let this opportunity pass me by, then no one will give me an answer for the rest of my life. How can it be proven, how can one be convinced it is true? Oh, it's too unfortunate! I stand and look around me and see that no one could care less, or practically no one, no one worries about this any more, and I'm the only person who cannot endure it. It is murderous, murderous!'

'Without doubit, it is murderous. But here it is not possible to prove anything; it is however, possible to be convinced.'

'How? By what means?'

'By the experience of active love. Try to love your fellow human beings actively and untiringly. In the degree to which you succeed in that love, you will also be convinced of God's existence, and of your soul's immortality. And if you attain complete self-renunciation in your love for your fellow creatures, then you will unfailingly come to believe, and no form of doubt will ever be able to visit your soul. That has been tested, that is precisely true.'

'Active love? But that is another question, and it is such a qusetion, such a one! You see, my love for mankind is so great that, would you believe it, I sometimes dream of giving up all, all that I possess, of forsaking Lise and of joining the Sisters of Mercy. I close my eyes, I think and dream, and at those moments I sense within myself an over mastering strength. No wounds, no septic sores would be able to frighten me. I would dress them and bathe them with my own hands, I would be a sick-nurse to those sufferers, I am ready to kiss those sores...'

'It is already much and good that your mind should dream of this, and not of some other thing. One day suddenly by chance you really will perform some good work.'

'Yes, but would I last in such an existence for long?' The lady continued hotly, and almost in a kind of frenzy. 'That is the question! That is the question that torments me most of all. I close my eyes and ask myself: would you last long on such a path? And if the sick person whose sores you are washing does not at once respond with gratitude, but starts instead to torment you with caprices, failing either to cherish or even notice your philanthropic devotion, begins to shout at you, making rude demands, even complaining to someone in authority (the way that people in great physical suffering often do) -what then? Will your love survive, or will it not? And then, you see, I realized with a shudder that if there is one thing that would be capable of instantly cooling my "active" love for mankind, it is ingratitude. Quite simply, I am the kind of woman who works for a reward, and I want the reward at once, in the form of praise for myself and reciprocated love. I am incapable of loving anyone on any other terms!'

She was in an access of the most sincere self-flagellation and, when it was over, gave the Elder a look of challenging resolve.

'That is almost precisely what a certain medical man once told me, long ago now,' the Elder observed. 'The man was already quite advanced in years, and of unquestionable intelligence. He spoke just as frankly as you have done, though also with humour, a rueful kind of humour; "I love mankind," he said, "but I marvel at myself: the more I love mankind in general, the less I love human beings in particular, separately, that is, as individual persons. In my dreams," he said, "I would often arrive at fervent plans of devotion to mankind and might very possibly have gone to the Cross for human beings, had that been suddenly required of me, and yet I am unable to spend two days in the same room with someone else, and this I know from experience. No sooner is that someone else close to me than this personality crushes my self-esteem and hampers my freedom. In the space of a day and a night I am capable of coming to hate even the best of human beings: one because he takes too long over dinner, another because he has a cold and is perpetually blowing his nose. I become the enemy of others," he said, "very nearly as soon as they come into contact with me. To compensate for this, however, it has always happened that the more I have hated human beings in particular, the more ardent has become my love for manking in general."'

'But then what is to be done? What is to be done in such a case? Is one to give oneself up in despair?'

'No, for it is sufficient that you grieve over it. Do what you are able, and it will be taken into consideration. In your case much of the work has already been done, for you have been able to understand yourself so deeply and sincerely! If, however, you have spoken so sincerely to me now only in order to receive the kind of praise I have just given you for your truthfulness, then you will, of course, get nowhere in your heroic attempts at active love; it will all merely remain in your dreams, and the whole of your life will flit by like a wraith. You will also, of course forget about the life to come, and you will end by somehow acquiring a kind of calm.'

'You have overwhelmed me! It is only now, at this very moment, as you were speaking, that I realized I was indeed merely expecting you to praise me for my sincerity when I told you I could not tolerate ingratitude. You have pre-empted me, you have caught me out and explained me to myself!'

'Do you say so, indeed? Well now, after a confession like that from you, I believe that you are sincere and good-hearted. If you do not reach happiness, always remember that you are on the right road, and try not to deviate from it. The main thing is to shun lies, all forms of lies, lies to yourself in particular. Keep a watch on your lies and study them every hour, every minute. Also shun disdain, both for others and for yourself: that which appears to you foul within yourself is cleansed by the very fact of your having noticed it in you. Also shun fear, although fear is only the consequence of any kind of lying. Never be daunted by your own lack of courage in the attainment of love, nor be over-daunted even by your bad actions in this regard. I regret I can say nothing more cheerful to you, for in comparison to fanciful love, active love is a cruel and frightening thing. Fanciful love thrists for the quick deed, swiftly accomplished, and that everyone should gaze upon it. In such cases the point really is reached where people are even willing to give their lives just as long as the whole thing does not last an eternity but is swiftly achieved, as on the stage, and as long as everyone is watching and praising. Active love, on the other hand, involves work and self-mastery, and for some it may even becomes a whole science. But I prophesy to you that at the very moment you behold with horror that in spite of all your efforts, not only have you failed to move towards your goal, but even seem to have grown more remote from it - at that very moment, I prophesy to you, you will suddenly reach that goal and discern clearly above you the miracle-working power of the Lord, who has loved you all along and has all along been mysteriously guiding you. Forgive me that I cannot stay longer with you, they are waiting for me. Until we meet again.'

The lady wept.

Dostoyevski. The Brothers Karamazov. pp. 59-63

Believing From Within

Fyodor Dostoyevsky wrote about a character called Alyosha in The Brothers Karamazov. Doystoyevski portrays this character as someone who is not an intellectual heavyweight but is still able to find great meaning in life. A common problem for writers seeking to portray inwardly significant characters is that inward greatness is hard to appreciate in our world (and maybe impossible to recognize in another person). Most people, such as the Apostle Thomas, seem to live their lives on the basis of what can be verified by evidence. But Alyosha is different.

Without further ado here is the passage:

... It seems to me that Alyosha was even more of a realist than anyone. Oh, it cannot be denied that in the monastery he believed completely in miracles, but in my experience miracles never bother a realist. It is not miracles that incline a realist towards faith.

The true realist, if he is not a believer, will invariably find within himself the strength and the ability not to believe in miracles either, and if a miracle stands before him as an incontrovertible fact, he will sooner disbelieve his senses than admit that fact. And even if he does admit it, it will be as a fact of nature, but one that until now has been obscure to him. In the realist it is not faith that is born of miracles, but miracles of faith. Once the realist believes, his realism inexorably comples him to admit miracles too.

The Apostle Thomas declared that he would not believe until he saw, and when he saw, said: 'My Lord and my God.' Was it the miracle that had made him believe? The likeliest explanation is that it was not, and that he came to believe for the sole reason that he wanted to believe and, perhaps, in the inmost corners of his being already fully believed, even when he said: 'Except I shall see ... I will not believe.'

To put the believing in terms of the inside versus the outside: the problem is not that people have a hard time accepting truth in the external world. On the contrary, people have a hard time accepting the truth they keep deep, down in the basement of their hearts.

For Dostoyevsky the reason to accept or deny a view is simply whether or not one wants to accept or deny the view. The evidence often turns out to be merely a diversion to overlook ones wishes in hope of finding acceptance in the eyes of others.

But the life of devotion is personally conscious of what it longs to believe. As the writer of Hebrews said of faith, "It is certain of what is unseen. This is what the ancients were commended for."