The Road To Jerusalem (20 page)

The event had made a big impression on Arn, giving him much to think about. He felt sorry for the robbers, who were affected with the deadly sin of greed, which had led them so rapidly into perdition where they were now suffering eternal torment. He could understand that they felt their rights had been subverted. It was true that plundering shipwrecks had been their ancient right as coastal dwellers, and it must feel wrong for for eign monks to take that income away. And besides, the men had been drunk. Even though Arn didn’t know much about intoxication, a couple of brothers sometimes drank too much wine, hence proving quiet clearly that where wine went in, wits went out. Afterwards they had to do penance for months on bread and water. So Arn thought he grasped that a person who was drunk didn’t really fully understand his responsibilities.

But Arn could not comprehend why Brother Guilbert had acted the way he did. The men who attacked them were fishermen, after all, who knew nothing about the weapons they were holding in their hands; at least that’s what Arn believed. Brother Guilbert could have taken their weapons from them and sent them fleeing. Then the theft would never have taken place, and the royal soldiers wouldn’t have had to track the men down and hang them. Didn’t love for one’s fellow man mean trying to ameliorate his stupidity if one could?

Arn had hesitated to discuss the matter with Brother Guilbert. Since the monk had acted as he did and had not saved the lost men from their own stupidity, he must be convinced that he had done the right thing.

But Arn did take up the problem with Father Henri, admitting that he was still praying for the souls of the hanged robbers.

Father Henri had no objection to Arn praying for the souls of those wretches. He viewed such a response as a demonstration of the boy’s strong empathy with the example set by Jesus Christ for the way life should be lived on earth. He saw only good in it.

But it was more disturbing that Arn obviously did not understand why it was impossible for Brother Guilbert to use violence.
Thou shalt not kill
was a commandment that was utterly without compromise.

Arn argued that the Holy Scriptures were full of commandments that were unreasonable. Take the fact that Brother Guy le Breton had so far failed to get the Danes to eat mussels. Out in the fjord the mussel beds had rapidly grown as soon as Brother Guy had come to Vitae Schola. But so far it had led only to the brothers themselves feasting on mussels prepared in one peculiar way after another, because the Danes around Limfjord believed that “whatever does not have fins and scales you shall not eat; it is unclean for you.” According to Deuteronomy 14:8 or whatever it was.

Deuteronomy 14:10, Father Henri corrected him. 14:8 prohibited the eating of pigs and rabbits. Which basically illustrated the same problem, or at least the reverse of the problem, since the Danes certainly had nothing against eating pigs or rabbits. Nevertheless, and Arn ought to know by now that there was a big difference between various small prohibitions of that sort and more serious prohibitions. If one searched for small prohibitions in the Holy Scriptures one could find many that were downright ridiculous—for instance, the hair should not be shorn in a certain way when in mourning—as well as things that were unreasonable and un-Christian in their severity, such as: he who contradicts his mother or father shall be stoned to death.

But once again the important thing was how one learned to understand the Holy Scriptures, and the guiding principle in that respect was of course the Lord Jesus himself. Through his example he had shown how the text should be understood. In short, killing was among the most forbidden of actions.

But Arn refused to yield. He now claimed, using the logic in argumentation that Father Henri had personally pounded into his head for most of his life, that a letter could kill as easily as a sword. By writing to King Valdemar, Father Henri had sealed the fate of the unfortunate and unsuccessful robbers, since the outcome was never in any doubt the moment the king received the letter from Vitae Schola.

In the same way one could kill through omission, by
not
using force. If Brother Guilbert had knocked two or three of the un successful robbers to the ground, wouldn’t he have committed only a comparatively
little
sin?

Arn was astonished that Father Henri did not interrupt him or scold him, but instead moved his hand in a gentle circle as a sign for Arn to continue his argument.

So, if Brother Guilbert committed a
little
sin, for which he easily would have been able to do penance for a month, by giving a couple of robbers a beating and thus scaring off the others, the result could have been good. The robbers wouldn’t have turned into robbers but merely drunkards out on a foolish foray. They would have been prevented from committing theft, they would not have been hanged, their children would not have been fatherless, and their wives would not now be widows. Weighing the pros and cons in this equation, one would probably find that Brother Guilbert, by employing violence without anger, would have served a good purpose. And so he probably wouldn’t have done anything evil, would he? After all, this was a theme that Saint Bernard himself often repeated.

Arn fell silent. He was so astonished by the priest’s silence that he could not go on with his argument: Father Henri sat deep in thought with his brow furrowed in a way that usually meant he didn’t want to be disturbed, because he was trying to crack a hard nut.

Arn waited patiently for a long time, since he had not been dismissed. Finally Father Henri looked up at Arn and gave him an encouraging smile, patting him lightly on the hand and nodding in agreement as he prepared to give an explanation, preceded by much clearing of his throat, as usual. Arn waited tensely.

“Young man, you surprise me by showing such acuity in an area which was perhaps not one of your best,” he began. “You have touched on two problems, although they are related. Your argument that a little sin from Brother Guilbert could have obviated something worse than a little sin is formally correct. And yet it is false. When Brother Guilbert had to choose between using violence, the worst sin he of all people could commit, or acting as he did, if he had known at that moment what the result would be,
then
but only then would your reasoning be valid. Without being unkind to you, however, I must point out that the formal way in which you have set up the argument, although Aristotle himself would have approved it, still presupposes that Brother Guilbert is not the man he is—a mortally sinful person—but rather that he is God and can see the truth and all that is to come. But it’s an uplifting example, because it so clearly shows how clumsy we humans can be even when with a clear conscience we try to act justly. A very uplifting example, indeed.”

“Not especially uplifting for the poor devils who were led further into sin, were hanged, and now must suffer eternal torment in hell,” Arn muttered crossly and was instantly given a sharp rebuke to pray ten Pater Nosters for his impertinence.

Arn obediently said his prayers, and Father Henri was grateful for the respite, which he spent thinking further, and not without a certain amount of guilt. He found to his shock that he was no longer sure of his counterargument.

Wouldn’t it be exaggerating to say that Brother Guilbert would have had to be God to foresee that measured violence, without anger, could in that situation have done a greater good than the usual peaceful response enjoined by Christ?

Wasn’t it true instead that Brother Guilbert had once lived a life in which, with God on his side, he could smite anyone who attacked him when he was protecting the church’s property? But afterwards he had imposed on himself such strict penance for sins he’d committed in the Holy War that he had to refrain from violence in any situation. Wasn’t it simply that Brother Guilbert was now closed off, or had closed himself off, from any sort of intellectual examination in such a context and blindly followed his self-imposed penance?

In that case Brother Guilbert was certainly pure and without sin with regard to the way he had acted. But little Arn had also for the first time shown proof of theological acumen and, what was even better, a genuine insight into the faith.

However, it was the larger problem that Arn had touched on that would be easier to take up just now. They would come back to the other issue a week later when Father Henri had had time to collect his thoughts and read up on it.

“Now let’s take up your second problem,” Father Henri said, displaying great friendliness to Arn after he had rattled off his ten Pater Nosters. “Saint Bernard pointed out quite rightly that whatsoever is done with good intent—you know what I mean, let’s skip the definitions—whatsoever is done with
good
intent cannot lead to evil. In what context does this assurance have the greatest practical significance?”

“When it applies to the crusades, obviously,” replied Arn obediently.

“Correct! But a crusade involves killing large numbers of Saracens, doesn’t it? So, doesn’t the commandment against killing apply here? And if not, why not?”

“It doesn’t apply because it is done, always done, with the blessing of the Holy Father in Rome,” Arn replied cautiously.

“Yes, but that’s a circular argument, my son. I asked
why
?”

“Because we have to imagine that the good is very good, that the good in preserving the Holy Sepulchre for believers is so much greater than the evil of killing Saracens,” Arn ventured hesitantly.

“Yes, you’re on the right track,” Father Henri assured him with a thoughtful nod. “But even when the Lord Jesus drove the moneylenders out of the temple he was never close to killing them, was he?”

“No, but that could be because, through his Father’s wrath, which naturally is much different from our human wrath, he used only as much force as was necessary. He actually did drive the moneylenders out of the temple. He didn’t need to kill them; it’s as if Brother Guilbert had—”

“All right! Let’s get back to the question at hand,” Father Henri interrupted him brusquely. But behind his stern mask he was secretly smiling at how Arn had suddenly and as if by chance managed to find an almost devastating argument that would strengthen his earlier position that Brother Guilbert should have used limited force. He should have simply acted as did the Lord Jesus himself in the temple.

“Did the Lord Jesus repudiate the soldiers, did he ever condemn them for being soldiers?” asked Father Henri in a deliberately subdued tone of voice.

“No, not that I know of . . .” Arn pondered. “Like that part about the coin, render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and unto God what . . . something like that. And then of course we have almost the same thing in the gospel of Luke, 3:14, I think . . . ‘Then some soldiers asked him, “And what should we do?” He replied, “Don’t extort money and don’t accuse people falsely-- be content with your pay.” ‘ If the soldiers behave like honest men when they’re not soldiers . . . then it’s not wrong to be a soldier?”

“Correct! And what do soldiers do?”

“They kill people. Like the ones who came in response to your letter to the king, Father. But soldiers and kings out there in the base world, what do they have to do with us?”

“Your question is very interesting, my son. Because you’re simply asking the following: Is there a situation when such as you or I would be able to kill? I see that you are doubtful, and before you say anything foolish that you might regret I will answer you. There is indeed an exception. The Lord Jesus in his ineffable kindness of course meant that we should not kill other children of God, not even Roman soldiers, or Danish ones for that matter. But there is a people not included in the Lord’s prohibition, and I think you can guess who they are, can’t you?”

“The Saracens!” Arn said at once.

“Right again! Because the Saracens are the most nefarious race that the Devil has put on our earth. They are not human beings, they are devils in human form. They do not hesitate to impale Christian babies on their spears and roast them over fires and then eat their fill. They are known for their dissolute lives, their excessive drinking, and their constant habit of sodomy and fornication with animals. They are the scum of the earth, and every dead Saracen is a pleasing sight for Our Lord, and whoever kills Saracens has committed a holy act and is therefore assured of a place in Paradise!”

Father Henri had gradually grown more agitated as he enumerated the heinous ways of the Saracens, and Arn’s eyes had grown wider and wider as he listened to these comments. What Arn had heard surpassed his understanding. His mind refused even to picture such a scene with these detestable creatures eating roasted Christian babies from their spear points. He couldn’t conceive how such devils could take the form of human beings.

But he could easily understand that it would be a pleasing deed to God, even for brothers within walls, to kill such evil. He also drew the conclusion that there was a vast distance between the Danish riffraff that had so unfortunately turned to the path of robbery and the Saracens. In that one case the commandment
Thou shalt not kill
was valid without exception. In the second case it was the direct opposite.

Although such a simple and clear conclusion had little practical importance up here in the North.

During the years Arn had not been able to sing, he had changed, just as his work had changed. The time that he previously would have spent with Brother Ludwig and the choir brothers, several hours each day, had now become time spent with Brother Guy down by the shore. Brother Guy soon taught him the methods from his home district for knotting nets, catching fish, and maneuvering small boats. For safety’s sake Brother Guy had also seen to it that Arn learned how to dive and swim.

With Brother Guilbert he had now become both a worker and a pupil. He was given all the heavier tasks in the smithies, and his arms grew in bulk almost as fast as his body shot up in height. He mastered most of the everyday smithing activities so that he could make good and marketable items. Only when it came to forging swords did he still lag far behind Brother Guilbert.