The unholy testimony

There is a scene in Giovanni Boccaccio´s Decamerone (written in 14th century Italy) where a jew, Abraham, after a visit to Rome talks to his gentile friend, Jehannot, who has tried to persuade him to embrace the christian faith. Jehannot had made some progress earlier, but before Abraham wanted to convert he wanted to see for himself the capital of Christendom. Knowing the spiritual state of said capital in these times, we could expect him to run back crying to the bosom of the other Abraham (as Jehannot expected, who was a noble and God-fearing sort). Instead the jew on his return says that any faith that lives on still, after 1300 years with such scoundrels and decadent people in charge, certainly only lives by the the grace of God. Baptism, here we come! (read it in full in the second novel, first day here)

Now this story, though charming, is theologically just a piece of shite, if you forgive the expression. An admirably cunning way of satirizing the Church without getting the Inquisition upon oneself. I won´t hold this against Boccaccio though, the critique was most deserved and done in such a lovely fashion, we shouldn´t think ill of him because of this. But it gets us on the trail of what I really wanted to talk about, that sometimes the unholy testimony can do more than the holy. As the real-life story I recently heard about the young Russian who went on a road trip with his mates through Western Europe after the fall of the Wall, saw the wonders of our civilization, went home and became a monk in the Orthodox church.

“What?!”, you may ask, “What´s so bad about Western Europe?”. Certainly seems better than communist dictatorship, I´ll agree. But for someone who has dreamt of salvation in the west, come democracy and capitalism we´ll be free. And see that it is not so. Maybe that becomes a testimony of the limitations of humanity, and a calling to God. I really don´t know, but sometimes I get a vague notion of what that monk-to-be must have seen here. I go to the supermarket, and for no specific reason at all wonder why half the magazines have half-naked women on their covers, and the other half evilminded gossip. Why they don´t have vegetables stacked up to the roof by the cash register, instead of candy and ice cream. And it isn´t pretty, but oh so taken for granted. Like it´s simply the way things go, and of necessity must be. Anything else is utopian.

I hold that it´s not a necessity, that something other is possible. I just wish we could take our materialistic society on a collective trip one century forward. Then the monastery. And us one hundred years forward would ask, “What?! What´s so bad about us?”.


I´d like to finish with some words on the holy testimony. Well, not mine, but as I´ve heard them from the mouth of Johnny Cash and now pass them onwards.

The fourth man in the fire
(written by Arthur Smith, recorded by his Cash-ness)

Now the prophet Daniel tells about
Three men who walked with God
Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego
Before the wicked king they stood
And the king commanded them bound and thrown
Into the fiery furnace that day
But the fire was so hot that the men were slain
That forced them on their way.

Refrain:
They wouldn't bend
They held on to the will of God so we are told
They wouldn't bow
They would not bow their knees to Idols made of gold
They wouldn't burn
They were protected by the Fourth Man in the fire
They wouldn't bend
They wouldn't bow, they wouldn't burn.

Now when the three were cast in and the king rose up
To witness this awful fate
He began to tremble at what he saw
In astonished tones he spake
Did we not cast three men bound
Into the midst of the fire
Well, Lo, I see four men unhurt
Unbound and walkin' down there;

There's Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego
And the fiery coals they trod
But the form of the Fourth Man that I see
Is like the Son of God

Refrain: