Mesopotamia - The Redeemer (12 page)

She then got up.

"Good night, Barman," she smiled at
him.

"Good night… Ascetic," he
suppressed a knowing smile.

After curling up under the
blankets, Sophia returned to thinking about the stranger, and fell
into a deep sleep.

I
t was a
day of celebration at the Socratic Academy. More than five hundred
students and teachers, among them alumni of the academy who had
gathered from all the corners of Dust in their best clothing and
perfumes, filled the huge hall and waited for additional lectures
in the framework of "The Festival of Knowledge". The Minister of
Defense, surrounded by an entourage of assistants and bodyguards,
sat in the last row of the hall. Despite how crowded the hall was,
the chair next to her was empty.

'How strong and stubborn is the
soul of man,' thought Diotima as she looked at Enosh, her student.
She was a tall and thin-limbed woman, who moved with grace and
nobility. Only the wrinkles at the corners of her mouth indicated
her sixty-five years. Her long, red hair was braided into a metal
lacing behind her head. Her freckled face was slightly
contradictory to her close-fitting metal suit, and imprinted on her
lapel was the comet of the leaders of the planet Dust. She was
amused at the look of her old pupil, who was having trouble
concentrating in anticipation of his lecture. It was clear that he
was nervous. Beads of sweat glistened on his high forehead and he
smoothed back his cropped hair with his hand. The blue-grey
tailored suit was appropriate to the festive occasion, but it
seemed as though he felt uncomfortable. He was used to his loose
and faded robes. And still, there was no doubt that Enosh would
convey his words precisely and fluently. Like many around her, she
was eagerly anticipating his lecture. Despite his many years of
training, despite the large and enthusiastic audience who had
crowded into the hall and was standing in the aisles, there was
still a spark of childishness in Enosh, and he was nervous about
the lecture. It touched her heart.

Diotima ignored the glances of the
students who were wandering around the back of the hall, inspecting
the teacher's teacher. This was Enosh's lesson, and Diotima was
also there to learn. The young students, who had yet to internalize
the ancient Socratic wisdom, did not understand that the teacher
wishes to learn from her pupil. This knowledge was one of the most
important principles among the Socratics. If the student can teach
something new to the teacher, this innovation is ten times more
important than any formal ranking.

"The subject of today's lecture is
suicide," began Enosh, and all eyes turned to him. He stood by the
lectern and cast his gaze above the display on which his lecture
was prepared. It had been years since he had read his lecture from
the display, and yet he had never freed himself of the need for the
presence of a monitor, which he thought of as a sort of crutch.

"As experts in consciousness and
cures for the soul, this is one of the most difficult topics you
are required to deal with," he said in a reserved voice, trying to
restrain his excitement. "The more opportunities that the abundant
Atheistic culture in which we live offers for all sorts of
pleasures, the higher the risk of suicide grows. Who can answer me?
Why is this"?

After a hesitant silence one said:
"Professor, in the Atheist culture, suicide is prevalent because
the challenges that give meaning to life are vanishing".

"Very good. More".

"Because without need, it is
impossible to properly appreciate pleasure as a basis for life,"
replied another student.

"Excellent, more".

The rest of the students were
encouraged to say their ideas, and began to talk all at once:
"Because abundance leads to revulsion," "because the survival
instinct is dormant," because constant pleasure cancels the need
for human connection and without them there's no reason to
live".

"That's very true, you're all
right. But you still haven't touched the main point." The dialogue
with the audience began to dispel the tension Enosh was
feeling.

Because Atheism doesn't take into
account the God who commands us to live," someone threw out from
the middle of the hall.

"You're on the right track, carry
on," he smiled, and began to walk around the stage.

For several long minutes, students
suggested different interpretations for the motives of suicide and
Enosh regarded each of them with respect. Eventually, he stopped
them.

"All the answers you've given are
true. Now we need to refine the common denominator in all of them,
phrase it in a logical way, and find support for it in the
classical expressions of those who commit suicide. We'll start with
the first point, the common denominator." From that moment on, he
talked fluently, with no pauses or hesitations.

"From all of your answers we see
the lack of a framework. Nothing compels survival like a framework
in which life can be the contents. In Atheism, you won't find a
framework like a religious hierarchy, or domineering politics,
which can be worshipped or risen up against, as a framework which
you can exist within or break out from. In logical-mathematical
terms, it is infinity. In topological terms, the geometry of logic,
there is no line that divides those in one group from the rest of
the individuals who are not in the group, creating finiteness.

"The lack of framework rings also
in the expressions of those who commit suicide. The most common
saying begins with saying 'there's no sense…' with variations –
'there's no sense in life', 'there's no sense in going on like
this,' and so on…

"Think of sense in the simplest
terms, the sense of taste, of food. Why would food not have taste?
We sense that food is tasty when we are hungry. That is, when we
lack it. Food is tasty because it receives its flavor from cultural
tastes. In other words, the social framework decides that a
specific food will be considered tasty. When there is no survival
instinct and no social authority, food, just like life, would make
no sense".

The audience swayed
uncomfortably.

"Do you have reservations about
what I said?" asked Enosh.

"What about someone who kills
themselves because of feelings of guilt?" asked one student.

"Or a person who out of sorrow over
the loss of a loved one, decides to die in their footsteps?" asked
another.

"Guilt," replied Enosh "is relative
to the law. A person who feels guilty is fulfilling the belief in
boundaries that are set by the law by means of his guilt. When a
person condemns himself to a penalty of death, he is upholding the
law as a representative of finiteness more than if he had lived
without guilt. A person who kills himself out of sorrow over a loss
is upholding the border between the living and the dead and putting
himself on the side of the dead. This is his way of safeguarding
the border between the living and the dead without departing from
the dead.

Again, we see that suicide is used
to uphold finiteness of some sort due to a lack of other
finiteness. If the death of the loved one was accepted as finite,
it would be possible to come to terms with the loss without turning
to suicide".

Diotima smiled from the height of
the balcony. Enosh's firm declaration that suicide was always
connected to finiteness had incited the audience. The students kept
on asking with different examples, and Enosh had an explanation for
each and every one. She gleaned great satisfaction from her
talented student, and enjoyed the intellectual discourse that was
missing in her political work. Several years earlier, she had
agreed, with much sorrow, but through a feeling of responsibility,
to step down as head of the Socratic Academy and become a minister
in the government of Dust, but she had never given up on the
Festival of Knowledge. She was pleased to see that the festival was
still stirring up the emotions of the students, and motivating them
to think, to shine and to excel.

From the earliest stages of
training, a peculiarity that was not typical of his fellow men
could be seen in Enosh. He was a dreamer, disorganized, slightly
sloppy, and less refined than the rest of the materialistic
Atheists. From the first moment Diotima recognized a spark of
genius in him, and that went and grew throughout his studies. It
was no coincidence that he was promoted to the position of Head
Consciousness Expert in record time. Since the beginning of his
training he had identified mental states by the changes in skin
tone or movements of the body. He read the case descriptions and
the words of the patients like an open book, and it sometimes even
seemed as though he read thoughts.

One event in particular left a deep
impression on her. One of the patients spoke with sorrow about an
object he had lost. Enosh immediately caught on that the object in
question was a camera. After a few minutes, it became clear that he
was indeed correct. Later, he explained to Diotima that he had
concluded it from reading the patient's face. He blinked like the
shutter of a camera every time he mentioned the lost object.

For a few years he learned with
Diotima and other consciousness experts. He was instructed on
different methods of treatment, and passed all his examinations
successfully. It was clear that he had a glowing future as an
esteemed expert in consciousness. But his promised future was
delayed. The plague of depression that washed over Dust did not
pass over him.

Enosh was at the beginning of his
way; thanks to his impressive achievements, he won the desirable
position of the head of the Philosophy department at the Socratic
Academy. His articles had been published across the galaxy and his
colleagues envied him. But as his career took off, his relationship
with Zoe went downhill. The two had met in a course 'Introduction
to Ancient Languages' taught by Diotima, in the first year of their
studies at the academy. The two gifted students fell in love – he
was the center of her world, and in the first two years she was the
center of his world. But as time went on, Enosh dove deeper and
deeper into his studies. The study of the logic of the depths of
the soul fascinated him so much that he didn't notice what was
right under his nose. Zoe tried to interest him in the known world,
in recreational pastimes, in friends, in planning their shared
future and in their relationship, to no avail. Diotima sighed. How
many times had she seen this scenario approaching its inevitable
end. To start with, Zoe tried to turn to his common sense, after
which she begged, got angry, and with time, pulled away from him.
She met a new love, and left him.

Enosh absorbed a great blow: the
power of the pain that he felt when she left him made it clear to
him how important she was to him. His studies and achievements
meant nothing without her. He tried to appease her, waited hours by
her room and wrote her long love letters. His numerous attempts at
persuading her to return to him bordered on harassment, and were
met with nothingness. In the end he gave up and sank into
depression.

He was angry with himself when it
became clear that despite his comprehensive knowledge of the human
soul, he couldn't succeed in sustaining their love. He felt like he
had failed, lost the love of his life, and that a love like this
would never return. He disconnected from the world, lost interest
in his studies, and closeted himself in his room for days on end.
Diotima noticed his situation, took an interest in his wellbeing,
and offered him help, but he refused. It was many long months
later, after he had completely abandoned his studies that he came
around and turned to ask for help.

Diotima accompanied him in the
rehabilitation process. Enosh learned to accept his limitations, to
correctly estimate his abilities, and he slowly recovered. When he
returned to the academy, he sought the mysteries of the soul not
just in books and theories, but everywhere. But from there on out
he preferred to keep a safe emotional distance between him and his
friends: he was afraid of getting hurt again.

Diotima knew why Enosh had chosen
to deal with the issue of suicide. She had helped him to understand
why a patient of his had committed suicide, five years earlier. The
patient had done it as an act of free choice, specifically because
Enosh had ordered her to live, and so pushed her to express her
independence in the only way available to her, by choosing to die.
Since then, he had never ceased to wonder what would have happened
if he hadn't taken a stance. He still felt guilty, but no longer
allowed depression to take control of him.

"And how should we treat a person
who is threatening or considering suicide?" Diotima asked from the
height of the balcony. She posed the question for two reasons.
Firstly, she wanted to show the students the reversal of roles, but
she was also thinking about Enosh: she wanted the assistance of the
audience to treat the open wound and make Enosh strengthen his
insights with a public statement. Diotima knew that a public
scholarly discussion with the participation of his teachers and
students would help Enosh process the difficult experience that he
still hadn't digested. Indeed, Enosh himself suffered from guilt,
from exactly the same reasons that he had enumerated to his
students. Enosh was also required to keep the borders of ethics
through feelings of guilt. Diotima knew that the guilt that was
tormenting him could not coexist with the free consciousness that
was vital to the standpoint of a consciousness healer. She pushed
Enosh to that point, and he did not disappoint her.

"I thank my teacher Diotima for the
question," he replied. "As you taught me, the healer must be free
first of all from the need for borders and all their
representations. As such, a healer must first agree to the fact
that suicide is a legitimate right".