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Thou Mayest
"But this – this is a ladder to climb to the stars."
I live in a small town - a very small town..
And I was in the post office late one evening and someone
had left a copy of John Steinbeck's
East of Eden on
one of the sorting counters.
It was a huge paperback and had been ripped into four
sections for some reason and bound together with a rubber band.
Because someone left it as a gift for the next person
interested, it passed to me.
Interestingly, several months earlier I had decided it
was time to begin to read the classics – authors I never read,
which is most of them and maybe all of them.
And now that I are one and developing a style of my own,
it has become time to see what others have to say..
I found the below excerpt very interesting. I will leave
it for you to discern how interesting, but after scanning and
preparing it for this web page, I noticed something else that
caught my attention.
I find this interesting because as I become clear about
the inescapable role of Innate Intelligence in my life, this
newest inkling is even more remarkable. This short
quotation from the excerpt (the subtitle of this piece) is a
perfect example of how the Universe works in our behalf.
The Universe is subtle; there are hints everywhere with
eyes to see, i.e., a refined nervous system and a willingness to
be open..
I will return this volume to the post office at some soon point
so that it may continue its journey.
Namasté
J.Hamilton
Excerpted from the Steinbeck Centennial Edition of
East of Eden by
John Steinbeck beginning on page 299
Lee said, “I’m going to tell you. And it’s a fairly long story.
Will you have a touch of ng-ka-py?”
“You mean the drink that tastes of good rotten apples?”
“Yes. I can talk better with it.”
“Maybe I can listen better,” said Samuel.
While Lee went to the kitchen Samuel asked, “Adam, did you know
about this?”
“No,” said Adam. “He didn’t tell me. Maybe I wasn’t listening.”
Lee came back with his stone bottle and three little porcelain
cups so thin and delicate that the light shone through them, “Dlinkee
Chinee fashion,” he said and poured the almost black liquor.
“There’s a lot of wormwood in this. It’s quite a drink,” he
said. “Has about the same effect as absinthe if you drink enough
of it.”
Samuel sipped the drink. “I want to know why you were so
interested,” he said.
“Well, it seemed to me that the man who could conceive this
great story would know exactly what he wanted to say and there
would be no confusion in his statement.”
“You say ‘the man.’ Do you then not think this is a divine book
written by the inky finger of God?”
“I think the mind that could think this story was a curiously
divine mind. We have had a few such minds in
China
too.”
“I just wanted to know;” said Samuel. “You’re not a Presbyterian
after all.”
“I told you I was getting more Chinese. Well, to go on, I went
to San Francisco
to the headquarters of our family association. Do you know about
them? Our great families have centers where any member can get
help or give it. The Lee family is very large. It takes care of
its own.”
“I have heard of them,” said Samuel.
“You mean Chinee hatchet man fightee Tong war over slave girl?”
“I guess so.”
“It’s a little different from that, really,” said Lee. “I went
there because in our family there are a number of ancient
reverend gentlemen who are great scholars. They are thinkers in
exactness. A man may spend many years pondering a sentence of
the scholar you call Confucius. I thought there might be experts
in meaning who could advise me.
“They are fine old men. They smoke their two pipes of opium in
the afternoon and it rests and sharpens them, and they sit
through the night and their minds are wonderful. I guess no
other people have been able to use opium well.”
Lee dampened his tongue in the black brew. “I respectfully
submitted my problem to one of these sages, read him the story,
and told him what I understood from it. The next night four of
them met and called me in. ‘We discussed the story all night
long.”
Lee laughed. “I guess it’s funny,” he said. “I know I wouldn’t
dare tell it to many people. Can you imagine four old gentlemen,
the youngest is over ninety now, taking on the study of Hebrew?
They engaged a learned rabbi. They took to the study as though
they were children. Exercise books, grammar, vocabulary, simple
sentences. You should see Hebrew written in Chinese ink with a
brush! The right to left didn’t bother them as much as it would
you, since we write up to down. Oh, they were perfectionists!
They went to the root of the matter.”
“And you?” said Samuel.
“I went along with them, marveling at the beauty of their proud
clean brains. I began to love my race, and for the first time I
wanted to be Chinese. Every two weeks I went to a meeting with
them, and in my room here I covered pages with writing. I bought
every known Hebrew dictionary. But the old gentlemen were
always ahead of me. It wasn’t long before they were ahead of our
rabbi; he brought a colleague in. Mr. Hamilton, you should have
sat through some of those nights of argument and discussion. The
questions, the inspections, oh, the lovely thinking— the
beautiful thinking.
“After two years we felt that we could approach your sixteen
verses of the fourth chapter of Genesis. My old gentlemen felt
that these words were very important too—’Thou shalt’ and ‘Do
thou.’ And this was the gold from our mining: ‘Thou mayest.’
‘Thou mayest rule over sin.’ The old gentlemen smiled and
nodded and felt the years were well spent. It brought them out
of their Chinese shells too, and right now they are studying
Greek.”
Samuel said, “It’s a fantastic story. And I’ve tried to follow
and maybe I’ve missed somewhere. Why is this word so important?”
Lee’s hand shook as he filled the delicate cups. He drank his
down in one gulp. “Don’t you see?” he cried. “The American
Standard translation orders men to triumph over sin, and
you can call sin ignorance. The King James translation makes a
promise in ‘Thou shalt,’ meaning that men will surely triumph
over sin. But the Hebrew word, the word timshel—’Thou
mayest’—that gives a choice. It might be the most important
word in the world. That says the way is open. That throws it
right back on a man. For if ‘Thou mayest’—it is also true that
‘Thou mayest not.’ Don’t you see?”
“Yes, I see. I do see. But you do not believe this is divine
law. Why do you feel its importance?”
“Ah!” said Lee. “I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time. I
even anticipated your questions and I am well prepared. Any
writing which has influenced the thinking and the lives of
innumerable people is important. Now, there are many millions in
their sects and churches who feel the order, ‘Do thou,’ and
throw their weight into obedience. And there are millions more
who feel predestination in ‘Thou shalt.’ Nothing they may do can
interfere with what will be. But ‘Thou mayest’! Why, that makes
a man great, that gives him stature with the gods, for in his
weakness and his filth and his murder of his brother he has
still the great choice. He can choose his course and fight it
through and win.” Lee’s voice was a chant of triumph.
Adam said, “Do you believe that, Lee?”
“Yes, I do. Yes, I do. It is easy out of laziness, out of
weakness, to throw oneself into the lap of deity, saying, ‘I
couldn’t help it; the way was set.’ But think of the glory of
the choice! That makes a man a man. A cat has no choice, a bee
must make honey. There’s no godliness there. And do you know,
those old gentlemen who were sliding gently down to death are
too interested to die now?”
Adam said, “Do you mean these Chinese men believe the Old
Testament?”
Lee said, “These old men believe a true story, and they know a
true story when they hear it. They are critics of truth. They
know that these sixteen verses are a history of humankind in any
age or culture or race. They do not believe a man writes fifteen
and three-quarter verses of truth and tells a lie with one verb.
Confucius tells men how they should live to have good and
successful lives. But this—this is a ladder to climb to the
stars.” Lee’s eyes shone. “You can never lose that. It cuts the
feet from under weakness and cowardliness and laziness.”
Adam said, “I don’t see how you could cook and raise the boys
and take care of me and still do all this.”
“Neither do I,” said Lee. “But I take my two pipes in the
afternoon, no more and no less, like the elders. And I feel that
I am a man. And I feel that a man is a very important
thing—maybe more important than a star. This is not theology. I
have no bent toward gods. But I have a new love for that
glittering instrument, the human soul. It is a lovely and unique
thing in the universe. It is always attacked and never
destroyed— because ‘Thou mayest.’ ”
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