by Karel Čapek
“Cease!” cried the angel. “Terrible is your sin, but the Lord has not heard you. Make ready and leave from this city: save at least your wife and the two daughters whom you have.”
Then Lot wept: “Yes, I must save them, you are right. I beg of you, show me the way.”
And while he lingered, the men laid hold upon his hand, and upon the hand of his wife, and upon the hand of his two daughters; the Lord being merciful unto him.
(As they led him forth, Lot prayed, saying:)
“All that life has given me, it gave me by thy hands; it fashioned my flesh from thy clay and put into my mouth the words that are in the mouths of thy men and women; and therefore I kissed them with each of my words, even when I cursed them.
“I see thee even when I close my eyes, for thou art deeper than my sight; thou art in me, even as I have been in thee.
“My hands perform thy work unawares; and were even I in the desert, my feet would walk in the direction of thy ways.
“Sodom, Sodom, art thou not the most beautiful of cities? And if I were to see only one small window, curtained in striped linen, I would know it and say: this is a window of Sodom.
“I am like a dog who is led from the house of his master; even if he droops his muzzle in the dust, so as not to see, he still recognizes the smell of the things he knows.
“I believed in the Lord and His law; in thee I did not believe, but thou art, and other lands are as shadows through which I pass, nor can I lean against a wall or a tree: they are like shadows.
“But thou art as nothing else: and everything that is, is only in comparison with thee. If I look upon thee, I see only thee, and if I look upon something else, I see it only in comparison with thee.
“I believed in the Lord because He seemed to me the God of Sodom; if there is no Sodom, there is no Lord.
“Oh gates, gates of Sodom, where are they leading me and into what emptiness? Where shall I set my foot? For there is no ground beneath me: and I stand as if I stood not. Go, my daughters, and leave me; I can go no farther.”
And they brought him forth, and set him without the city; and they spake unto him, saying: Escape for thy life; look not behind thee, neither stay thou in all the plain; escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed.”
The sun was risen upon the earth when they said this.
Then the Lord rained upon Sodom and upon Gomorrah brimstone and fire from the Lord out of heaven.
Then Lot looked round and cried out and ran back towards the city.
“What are you doing, accursed one?” the angels called after him.
“I am going to help the people of Sodom,” answered Lot, and he went into the city.
October 1923
Holy Night
“I’m surprised at you,” shouted Dinah, Isachar’s wife. “If they’d been decent folk, they’d have gone to the mayor instead of going around begging like that! Why didn’t you pack them off to Simon’s house? Why do we, of all people, have be the ones to take them in? Is Simon somehow better than us? I know Simon’s wife wouldn’t let riffraff like that into her home! I’m surprised at you, lowering yourself by associating with I-don’t-know-what kind of people!”
“Don’t shout,” old Isachar grumbled, “they’ll hear you!”
“Let them hear!” declared Dinah, raising her voice even higher. “Who cares! It’d be a fine thing if I couldn’t make a peep in my own house because of tramps like those two! Do you know them? Does anybody know them? He says she’s his wife. That’s the story, his wife! I know what goes on with those kinds of drifters! Aren’t you ashamed of letting people like that into the house?”
Isachar wanted to protest that he’d only let them into the stable, but he kept the thought to himself; the fact is, he liked his peace and quiet.
“And her,” Dinah went on, scandalized, “she’s in a family way, as if you didn’t know. Dear Christ, as if we needed that on top of everything else! Sweet Mary and Jesus, we’ll have the whole town talking about us! Tell me, please, where did you park your brains?” Dinah paused for breath. “Of course, you’d never say no to a young thing like that. All she had to do was bat those eyes of hers and you’d bend over backwards to please her. You wouldn’t have done that for me, Isachar! Just fix yourselves up a bed, folks, there’s tons of straw in the stable — As if we were the only ones in Bethlehem with a stable! Why didn’t Simon give them a batch of straw? Because his wife wouldn’t stand for it, that’s why! Only I’m such a doormat, I never say a word — ”
Old Isachar turned over to face the wall. Maybe she’ll stop, he thought. She’s right, in a way, but to make so much fuss over just this one single —
“Bringing strangers into the house!” Dinah stormed in righteous wrath. “Who knows what sort of people they are? Now I’ll be afraid to close my eyes the whole night long! But that doesn’t matter to you, does it? Everything for other folks, but nothing for me! I wish you’d just for once have a little consideration for your overworked, long-suffering wife! I’m the one who’ll have to clean up after them in the morning! If the man’s a carpenter, why doesn’t he have a job somewhere? And why should I have to take on all these worries, anyway? Are you listening, Isachar?”
But Isachar, face to the wall, pretended to be sleeping.
“Holy Mary,” sighed Dinah, “the life I lead! I won’t be able to sleep the whole night for worrying . . . And he’s sleeping like a log! They could carry the whole house out from under us and he’d never even notice . . . My God, the things I put up with!”
And then there was silence, the darkness perforated only by old Isachar’s snores.
Toward midnight Isachar was roused from his slumber by a woman’s stifled groans. Bless me, he thought in alarm, whatever it is, it’s right next door in the stable! If only it doesn’t wake Dinah . . . She’ll just start in talking again!
And he lay motionless, as if he were asleep.
A moment later another groan was heard. God, be merciful! God, grant that Dinah not wake up, old Ischar prayed in anguish; but just then he felt Dinah stir beside him, hoist herself upright, and listen with intense concentration. It’s going to be awful, Isachar told himself, but he stayed nice and quiet.
Dinah got up without a word, flung a woolen shawl around her, and went out into the yard. She’ll probably throw them out, Isachar told himself, feeling helpless; I’m not getting mixed up in this, let her do what she likes . . .
After a surprisingly long and hushed interval Dinah returned, treading carefully. It seemed to Isachar, half asleep, that kindling of some sort was rustling and crackling, but he was determined not to budge. Maybe Dinah’s cold, he thought, and she’s building a fire.
Then Dinah quietly stole outside again. Isachar opened his eyes a bit and saw a kettle of water over a blazing fire. What’s this all about, he thought in astonishment, and immediately fell asleep again. He awoke only when Dinah, her small steps special, eager, and momentous, dashed back into the yard with the steaming kettle.
Isachar, very much puzzled, got up and more or less clothed himself. I need to find out what’s going on, he told himself resolutely, but in the doorway he collided with Dinah.
Why on earth are you running around like this? he’d intended to sputter, but he never had the chance. “What are you standing there gaping for?” Dinah snapped at him, and once again she ran back into the yard, her arms filled with bits of linen and other scraps of cloth. At the threshold she turned. “Go back to bed,” she cried harshly, “and . . . and keep out of our way, do you hear?”
Old Isachar fumbled his way out into the yard. He saw the stiff figure of a squarely-built man standing in awkward bewilderment before the stable, and he headed towards him. “Well well,” Isachar grumbled soothingly, “threw you out, did she? These women, you know, Joseph... ” And in order to avoid commenting on their male helplessness, he pointed suddenly: “Look, a star! Did you ever see such a star?”
December 25, 1930
Martha and Mary
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Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman, named Martha, received him into her house.
And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word.
But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.
And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things:
But one good thing is needful; and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.
Luke 10.38-42
That evening, Martha went to the house of a neighbor who had recently given birth, Tamar, the wife of Jacob Grünfeld;
and seeing that the fire in the fireplace was dying, she added more logs and sat down by the hearth to fan the embers. And as the bright flames blazed upward, Martha stared silently into the fire.
Then Tamar said: “You’re so kind, Martha. You think of everything — I don’t know how I can ever repay you.”
But Martha said nothing, nor did she turn her eyes from the fire.
Then Tamar spoke, asking: “Is it true, Martha dear, that the Rabbi from Nazareth came to your house today?”
And Martha answered: “He did.”
And Tamar clasped her hands and said: “That must have made you very happy, Martha. I knew He wouldn’t be coming to us; but you deserve it, you’re such a good housekeeper — ”
At this Martha leaned towards the fire, poked vigorously at the logs, and said: “To tell you the truth, Tamar, I’d be happier if I’d never seen Him. If I’d had any idea that today of all days, right before a holiday — Well, I thought to myself, first I’ll do the washing — You know our Mary and the amount of laundry she creates. So I was throwing all the unwashed clothes together in a heap, and suddenly ‘Good morning, daughter,’ and He’s standing in the doorway! I start to call, ‘Mary, Mary, come here!’ so she can help me clear away the pile of dirty laundry — Dear Mary comes flying in, all disheveled, and the moment she sees Him she begins shrieking like a madwoman: ‘Master, Master, You have come to us?’ and thump, down she goes on her knees before Him, sobbing and kissing His hands — Tamar, I was so ashamed of her, what could the Master have thought, this crazy, hysterical girl and dirty clothes all over the place — I barely managed to force out ‘Master, please be seated’ and started snatching up the laundry; and there was Mary, tugging at His hand and sobbing, ‘Master, speak, speak to us, Rabboni’ — Can you imagine, Tamar, she called him Rabboni! And the place was a complete shambles — you know how it is on washday, the house hadn’t even been swept — What must He have thought of us?”
“Never mind, Martha dear,” Mrs. Grünfeld comforted her. “As a rule, men don’t even notice a bit of clutter. I know them.”
“Well, even so,” Martha declared, a hard glint in her eye, “things ought to be clean and tidy. Look, Tamar, when the Master dined at the Pharisee’s house, Mary washed His feet with her tears and dried them with her hair. Well, I myself wouldn’t have the nerve to do something like that, but I would have liked at the very least to give Him a clean floor under his feet. Yes, indeed. And to put out that nice carpet for Him, you know, the one from Damascus — not soiled laundry! Wiping His feet with her tears and hair, that’s what our Mary did then; but would she even comb her own hair when He came to see us? Not her. Or wipe the floor for His feet? Not that, either. Nothing but plop down in front of Him, roll her eyes, and plead: ‘Speak to us, Rabboni!’”
“And did He speak?” Tamar asked eagerly.
“He spoke,” Martha answered slowly. “He smiled and spoke to Mary. You know, what with first clearing away the laundry and then getting Him at least a bit of goat’s milk and a piece of bread — He looked so tired; it was right on the tip of my tongue to say, ‘Master, I’ll bring You a cushion, do take a moment’s rest, take a short nap even, we’ll be quiet as can be, we won’t even breathe’ — But you know, Tamar, one doesn’t like to break in while He’s talking. So I merely tiptoed around, hoping that Mary would take the hint and keep quiet — but no! It was ‘Go on, Master, please, please, something more,’ and He, kind-hearted soul that He is, went on smiling and talking — ”
“Oh, how I wish I could have heard what He said,” sighed Tamar.
“Me too, Tamar,” Martha said drily. “But someone had to cool the milk for Him, to keep it fresh. And someone also had to go fetch the honey for His bread. Then dash over to Ephraim’s — I’d promised Ephraim’s wife that I’d keep an eye on the children while she went to market — you know, Tamar, sometimes even an old maid like me can be good for something, too. But oh, if only our brother Lazarus had been home! This morning, though, as soon as Lazarus realized it was washday, he said, ‘You’re on your own, girls, I’m leaving; but you, Martha, be on the lookout for that herb merchant from Lebanon, and if he comes by, get me some of that tea for the lungs’ — you know that our Lazarus has something wrong with his chest, Tamar, and it’s getting worse. So I kept thinking, if only Lazarus would come back while the Master’s here — Tamar, I do believe He could cure our Lazarus — anyway, every time I heard footsteps, I’d rush out of the house and call out to whoever was passing by: ‘Mr. Asher, Mr. Levi, Mr. Isachar, if you happen to see our Lazarus, tell him to come home immediately, right away!’ And all the while keeping an eye out for that herb merchant — I simply had no idea what would happen next.”
“I know what it’s like,” said Tamar. “Sometimes families are nothing but a headache.”
“Of course they are,” said Martha. “But look, Tamar, I’d have liked to hear the word of God, too. I know, I’m only a foolish woman, more like a servant really — but I tell myself that somebody has to do it, somebody has to cook and wash and mend and keep the place clean, and since that’s not our Mary’s nature — She’s not as pretty as she once was, Tamar, but she used to be such a beautiful girl that — that — that I simply had to serve her! And everyone’s always thought I’m bad-tempered — Tamar, you know that a bad-tempered, unhappy woman can’t cook anything well, and I’m not a bad cook. If Mary is beautiful, let Martha be a good cook; that’s fair, isn’t it? But Tamar, maybe you also know what it’s like when, every once in a while, you fold your hands in your lap for a moment or two, and then such curious thoughts come into your head: that perhaps someone will say something to you, or look at you somehow . . . as if they were saying: Daughter, you clothe us with your love, you give us all of yourself, you sweep with your body and keep everything clean with the cleanliness of your soul; we enter into your house as if it were you yourself. In your own way, Martha, you too have loved much — ”
“Indeed, I do know,” stated Mrs. Grünfeld. “And if you had six children, as I do, you’d know it all the better.”
Then Martha said: “Tamar, when He appeared so suddenly, the Master from Nazareth, I was almost frightened by the thought that perhaps — perhaps He had come to say those beautiful things I’ve been waiting so long to hear — and then for everything to be in such a mess! My heart was almost in my throat, I couldn’t speak — I said to myself, it’ll pass, I’m a foolish woman, and in the meantime I’ll soak the laundry and run over to Ephraim’s and send for our Lazarus and shoo the chickens out of the yard so they won’t disturb Him — And then, when everything was in order, I was filled with such a beautiful certainty: that now I was ready to hear the word of God. So I slipped quietly, so quietly, into the room where He sat talking. Mary was sitting at His feet; she never took her eyes off Him — ” Martha smiled ironically. “It occurred to me how I’d look if I gaped at Him like that! But then, Tamar, He looked at me — so directly, and with such a kindly expression on his face — as if He were going to say something … And suddenly I realized — Dear heaven, how thin he is! You know, He never eats a decent meal, He hardly touched the bread and honey — And then it struck me: Pigeons! I’ll fix Him some pigeons! I’ll
send Mary to the market for them, and in the meantime He can rest a bit — ‘Mary,’ I said, ‘come into the kitchen for a moment.’ But Mary? No response whatsoever. She might as well have been deaf and blind.”
“She didn’t want to leave your guest alone,” Tamar offered soothingly.
“If she’d been paying proper attention,” Martha retorted, a hard edge to her voice, “she’d have seen that He had something to eat; that’s what we women are for, isn’t it? And when I saw that Mary could only stare at Him as if she were in a trance, I — Tamar, I don’t know how it happened, but I had to say it. ‘Lord,’ I said, ‘is it nothing to You that my sister leaves me to do all the work by myself? Tell her to help me in the kitchen!’ It just burst out of me.”
“And did He speak to her?” asked Mrs. Grünfeld.
At this, tears spurted from Martha’s smarting eyes. “He said: ‘Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one good thing is needful; and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.’”
There was a moment of silence. “And that was all He said?” asked Tamar.
“All that I know of,” Martha replied brusquely, wiping away her tears. “After that I left to buy the pigeons — they’re such robbers at that market, Tamar — and I roasted them and made the giblets into that soup for you — ”
“You did indeed,” said Mrs. Grünfeld. “You are truly kind, Martha dear.”
“I’m not,” grumbled Martha. “To tell you the truth, it was the first time my pigeons have ever been underdone, and they turned out stringy. But I — somehow I couldn’t keep my mind on things. And I believe in Him so boundlessly, Tamar!”