[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
ten, and sometimes even if you don t and began its arc toward
him. He made the sign of the cross, and the tree fell to one side.
The hagiographer Sulpicius related what happened next: Then
indeed a shout went up to heaven as the pagans gasped at the
miracle, and all with one accord acclaimed the name of Christ;
you may be sure that on that day salvation came to that region.
Songs of the Dead " 163
Indeed, there was hardly anyone in that vast multitude of pa-
gans who did not ask for the imposition of hands, abandoning
his heathenish ways and making profession of faith in the Lord
Jesus. That was from only one miracle. Another: A young man
named Aquilinus was hunting with his father when he suffered
a seizure and fell into a coma. His relatives recognized immedi-
ately that he had been put under a spell by some enemy. They
called a local healer, who was able to do nothing. The boy s grief-
stricken parents brought him to the shrine of St. Martin, where
he recovered. There was the hermit Caluppa, who, cornered by
a brace of dragons, put them to flight by making the sign of the
cross (although one dragon did fart defiantly before leaving).
Amandus raised a hanged man from the dead, and when this
miracle was diffused far and wide, the inhabitants of the region
rushed to Amandus and humbly begged that he would make
them Christians. Emilian cured the blindness of the slave-girl
of a senator, exorcised demons from the slave of a count, cured
the paralysis of a woman who had traveled great distances to see
him, and through the sign of the cross cured the swollen belly of
the monk Armentarius. Miracles were almost as important as the
sword in converting the indigenous of Europe. As Fletcher put
it, Like it or not, this is what our sources tell us over and over
again. Demonstrations of the power of the Christian God meant
conversion. Miracles, wonders, exorcisms, temple-torching and
shrine-smashing were in themselves acts of evangelization.
Now, I know that history is written by the victors. I
know how easy it is to scoff at farting dragons and the exor-
cism of demons. But I also know that there exists something
called audience consideration. If your audience expects miracles
to take the form of dragons, the curing of swollen bellies, and
safety from falling trees, then this is the sort of miracle you as
God should and probably would provide. If your audience ex-
pects miracles to take the form of fog or smallpox or moonlight
reflecting white off sandy beaches on the very last night possible
(what if it had been cloudy or had there been no moon on Oc-
164 " Derrick Jensen
tober 12, 1492?), then this is the sort you should provide. And
I know as well that the most powerful dictator is the one who
need not show himself openly, one whose omnipotence is as-
sumed and internalized, metabolized into the very being of the
subjects until they no longer recognize the dictator s existence at
all. A dictator on the way up may need to wow by turning away
dragons. One already ensconced has the luxury of using fog.
Over the next few weeks I returned many times to where
Nika was struck, but only fell through time once. I did not fall back,
but slightly forward, and saw to my delight that at least in the short
term neither bears nor wétikos had knocked down the apple trees. The
trees were tall, perhaps twenty years old, and beautiful pink apples
hung plump from branches dangling low over the ground and over
the stream. As I watched, an apple fell into the water and bobbed its
way past.
I m sitting by Latah Creek with Allison. The salmon are run-
ning. I cannot see the bottom of the stream for the fish. Even this
little stream roars with the slapping of their tails against the water. I
am happy, and of course sad.
This, I say, is a miracle.
I fall through time, see something not so miraculous, unless
perhaps from the perspective of God. I m sitting by Latah Creek.
There is no life. No trees. No grasses. No shrubs. No fish. No flies.
No gnats. No insects at all. The water still flows, though over rocks
free of algae. The sun still shines. I cannot believe it is the same sun.
I cannot believe it is the same water. Maybe it is not. The stream is as
dead as everything else, though its body still flows.
I know what I m seeing. I m seeing the future. I m seeing the
end point of this culture. I m seeing the final victory of God.
Songs of the Dead " 165
The director comes to me in a dream. I do not see him. I see
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]