高山上的呼喊-go tell it on the mountain-第3章

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　household；　ruled。　The　olderchildren；　like　John　or　Roy；　might　wander　down　the　avenue；　but　not　too　far。　Their　father　never　letJohn　and　Roy　out　of　his　sight；　for　Roy　had　often　disappeared　between　Sunday　school　and　morningservice　and　has　not　e　back　all　day。
　　The　Sunday　morning　service　began　when　Brother　Elisha　sat　down　at　the　piano　and　raised　asong。　This　moment　and　this　music　had　been　with　John；　so　it　seemed；　since　he　had　first　drawnbreath。　It　seemed　that　there　had　never　been　a　time　when　he　had　not　known　this　moment　of　waitingwhile　the　packed　church　paused—the　sisters　in　white；　heads　raised；　the　brothers　in　blue；　headsback；　the　white　caps　of　the　women　seeming　to　glow　in　the　charged　air　like　crowns；　the　kinky；gleaming　heads　of　the　men　seeming　to　be　lifted　up—and　the　rustling　and　the　whispering　ceasedand　the　children　eone　coughed；　or　the　sound　of　a　car　horn；　or　a　curse　fromthe　streets　came　in；　the　Elisha　hit　the　keys；　beginning　at　once　to　sing；　and　everybody　joined　him；clapping　their　hands；　and　rising；　and　beating　the　tambourines。
　　The　song　might　be：　Down　at　the　cross　where　my　Savior　died！
　　Or：　Jesus；　I’ll　never　forget　how　you　set　me　free！
　　Or：　Lord；　hold　my　hand　while　I　run　this　race！
　　They　sang　with　all　the　strength　that　was　in　them；　and　clapped　their　hands　for　joy。　There　hadnever　been　a　time　when　John　had　not　sat　watching　the　saints　rejoice　with　terror　in　his　heart；　andwonder。　Their　singing　caused　him　to　believe　in　the　presence　of　the　Lord；　indeed；　it　was　no　longer　aquestion　of　belief；　because　they　made　that　presence　real。　He　did　not　feel　it　himself；　the　joy　theyfelt；　yet　he　could　not　doubt　that　it　was；　for　them；　the　very　bread　of　life—could　not　doubt　it；　that　is；until　it　was　too　late　to　doubt。　Something　happened　to　their　faces　and　their　voices；　the　rhythm　oftheir　bodies；　and　to　the　air　they　breathed；　it　was　as　though　wherever　they　might　be　became　theupper　room；　and　the　Holy　Ghost　were　riding　on　the　air。　His　father’s　face；　always　awful；　becamemore　awful　now；　his　father’s　daily　anger　was　transformed　into　prophetic　wrath。　His　mother；　hereyes　raised　to　heaven；　hands　arked　before　her；　moving；　made　real　for　John　that　patience；　thatendurance；　that　long　suffering；　which　he　had　read　of　in　the　Bible　and　found　so　hard　to　imagine。
　　　On　Sunday　mornings　the　women　all　seemed　patient；　all　the　men　seemed　mighty。　WhileJohn　watched；　the　Power　struck　someone；　a　man　or　woman；　they　cried　out；　a　long；　wordlesscrying；　and；　arms　outstretched　like　wings；　they　began　the　Shout。　Someone　moved　a　chair　a　little　togive　them　room；　the　rhythm　paused；　the　singing　stopped；　only　the　pounding　feet　and　the　clappinghands　were　heard；　then　another　cry；　another　dancer；　then　the　tambourines　began　again；　and　thevoices　rose　again；　and　the　music　swept　on　again；　like　fire；　or　flood；　or　judgment。　Then　the　churchseemed　to　swell　with　the　Power　it　held；　and；　like　a　pla　rocking　in　space；　the　temple　rocked　withthe　Power　of　God。　John　watched；　watched　the　faces；　and　the　weightless　bodies；　and　listened　to　thetimeless　cries。　One　day；　so　everyone　said；　this　Power　would　possess　him；　he　would　sing　and　cry　asthey　did　now；　and　dance　before　his　King。　He　watched　young　Ella　Mae　Washington；　the　seventeen…year…old　granddaughter　of　Praying　Mother　Washington；　as　she　began　to　dance。　And　then　Elishadanced。
　　At　one　moment；　head　thrown　back；　eyes　closed；　sweat　standing　on　his　brow；　he　sat　at　thepiano；　singing　and　playing；　and　then；　like　a　great　black　cat　in　trouble　in　the　jungle；　he　stiffened　andtrembled；　and　cried　out。　Jesus；　Jesus；　oh　Lord　Jesus！　He　struck　on　the　piano　one　last　wild　note；　andthrew　up　his　hands；　palms　upward；　stretched　wide　apart。　The　tambourines　raced　to　fill　the　vacuumleft　by　his　silent　piano；　and　his　cry　drew　answering　cries。　Then　he　was　on　his　feet；　turning；　blind；his　face　congested；　contorted　with　this　rage；　and　the　muscles　leaping　ands　swelling　in　his　long；dark　neck。　It　seemed　that　he　could　not　breathe；　that　his　body　could　not　contain　this　passion；　that　hewould　be；　before　their　eyes；　dispersed　into　the　waiting　air。　His　hand；　rigid　to　the　very　fingertips；moved　outward　and　back　against　his　hips；　his　sightless　eyes　looked　upward；　and　he　began　to　dance。
　　Then　his　hands　close　into　fists；　and　his　head　snapped　downward；　his　sweat　loosening　the　greasethat　slicked　down　his　hair；　and　the　rhythm　of　all　the　others　quickened　to　match　Elisha’s　rhythm；　histhighs　moved　terribly　against　the　cloth　of　his　suit；　his　heels　beat　on　the　floor；　and　his　fists　movedbeside　his　body　as　though　he　were　beating　his　own　drum。　And　so；　for　a　while；　in　the　centre　of　thedancers；　head　down；　fists　beating；　on；　on；　unbearably；　until　it　seemed　the　walls　of　the　church　wouldfall　for　very　sound；　and　then；　in　a　moment；　with　a　cry；　head　up；　arms　high　in　the　air；　sweat　pouringfrom　his　forehead；　and　all　his　body　dancing　as　though　it　would　never　stop。　Sometimes　he　did　notstop　until　he　fell—until　he　dropped　like　some　animal　felled　by　a　hammer—moaning；　on　his　face。
　　And　then　a　great　moaning　filled　the　church。
　　There　was　sin　among　them。　One　Sunday；　when　regular　service　was　over；　Father　James　haduncovered　sin　in　the　congregation　of　the　righteous。　He　had　uncovered　Elisha　and　Ella　Mae。　Theyhad　been　‘walking　disorderly’；　they　were　in　danger　of　straying　from　the　truth。　And　as　Father　Jamesspoke　of　the　sin　that　he　knew　they　had　not　mitted　yet；　of　the　unripe　fig　plucked　too　early　fromthe　tree—to　set　the　children’s　teeth　on　edge—John　felt　himself　grow　dizzy　in　his　seat　and　couldnot　look　at　Elisha　where　he　stood；　beside　Ella　Mae；　before　the　altar。　Elisha　hung　his　head　as　FatherJames　spoke；　and　the　congregation　murmured。　And　Ella　Mae　was　not　so　beautiful　now　as　she　waswhen　she　was　singing　and　testifying；　but　looked　like　a　sullen；　ordinary　girl。　Her　full　lips　were　looseand　her　eyes　were　black—with　shame；　or　rage；　or　both。　Her　grandmother；　who　had　raised　her；　satwatching　quietly；　with　folded　hands。　She　of　the　pillars　of　the　church；　a　powerful　evangelistandverywidelyknown。Shesaidnothi（was）　ngin（one）　Ella　Mae’s　defense；　for　she　must　have　felt；as　the　congregation　felt；　that　Father　James　was　only　exercising　his　clear　and　painful　duty；　he　wasresponsible；　after　all；　for　Elisha；　as　Praying　Mother　Washington　was　responsible　for　Ella　Mae。　It　was　not　an　easy　thing；　said　Father　James；　to　be　the　pastor　of　a　flock。　It　might　look　easy　to　just　situp　there　in　the　pulpit　night　after　night；　year　in；　year　out；　but　let　them　remember　the　awfulresponsibility　placed　on　his　shoulders　by　almighty　God—let　them　remember　that　God　would　askan　accounting　of　him　one　day　for　every　soul　in　his　flock。　Let　them　remember　this　when　theythough　he　was　hard；　let　them　remember　that　the　Word　was　hard；　that　the　way　of　holiness　was　ahard　way。　There　was　no　room　in　God’s　army　for　the　coward　heart；　no　crown　awaiting　him　who　putmother；　or　father；　sister；　or　brother；　sweetheart；　or　friend　above　God’s　will。　Let　the　church　cryamen　to　this！　And　they　cried：　‘Amen！　Amen！’
　　The　Lord　had　led　him；　said　Father　James；　looking　down　on　the　boy　and　girl　before　him；　togive　them　a　public　warning　before　it　was　too　late。　For　he　knew　them　to　be　sincere　young　people；dedicate　to　the　service　of　the　Lord—it　was　only　that；　since　they　were　young；　they　did　not　know　thepitfall　Satan　laid　for　the　unwary。　He　knew　that　sin　was　not　in　their　minds—not　yet；　yet　sin　was　inthe　flesh；　and　should　they　continue　with　their　walking　out　alone　together；　their　secrets　andlaughter；　and　touching　of　hands；　they　would　surely　sin　a　sin　beyond　all　forgiveness。　And　Johnwondered　what　Elisha　was　thinking—Elisha　；　who　was　tall　and　handsome；　who　played　basket…ball；and　who　had　been　saved　at　the　age　of　eleven　in　the　improbable　fields　down　south。　Had　he　sinned？
　　Had　he　been　tempted？　And　the　girl　beside　him；　whose　white　robes　now　seemed　the　merest；thinnest　covering　for　the　nakedness　of　breasts　and　insistent　thighs—what　was　her　face　like　whenshe　was　alone　with　Elisha；　with　no　singing；　when　they　were　not　surrounded　by　the　saints？　He　wasafraid　to　think　of　it；　yet　he　could　think　of　nothing　else；　and　the　fever　of　which　they　stood　accusedbegan　also　to　rage　him。
　　After　this　Sunday　Elisha　and　Ella　Mae　no　longer　met　each　other　each　day　after　school；　nolonger　spent　Saturday　afternoons　wandering　through　Central　Park；　or　lying　on　the　beach。　All　thatwas　over　for　them。　If　they　came　together　again　it　would　be　in　wedlock。　They　would　have　childrenand　raise　them　in　the　church。
　　This　was　what　was　meant　by　a　holy　life；　this　was　what　the　way　of　the　cross　demanded。　Itwas　somehow　on　that　Sunday；　a　Sunday　shortly　before　his　birthday；　that　John　first　realized　thatthis　was　the　life　awaiting　him—realized　it　consciously；　as　something　no　longer　far　off；　butimminent；　ing　closer　day　by　day。
　　John’s　birthday　fell　on　a　Sunday　in　March；　in　1935。　He　awoke　on　this　birthday　morning　with　thefeeling　that　there　was　menace　in　the　air　around　him—that　something　irrevocable　had　occurred　inhim。　He　stared　at　a　yellow　stain　on　the　ceiling　just　above　his　head。　Roy　was　still　smothered　in　thebedclothes；　and　his　breath　came　and　went　with　a　small；　whistling　sound。　There　was　no　other　soundanywhere；　no　one　in　the　house　was　up。　The　neighbors’　radios　were　all　silent；　and　his　mother　hadn’tyet　risen　to　fix　his　father’s　breakfast。　John　wondered　at　his　panic；　then　wondered　about　the　time；and　then　（while　the　yellow　stain　on　the　ceiling　slowly　transformed　itself　into　a　woman’snakedness）　he　remembered　that　it　was　his　fourteenth　birthday　and　that　he　had　sinned。
　　His　first　thought；　nevertheless；　was：　‘Will　anyone　remember？’　For　it　had　happened；　once　ortwice；　that　his　birthday　had　passed　entirely　unnoticed；　and　no　one　had　said　‘Happy　Birthday；Johnny；’　or　given　him　anything—not　even　his　mother。
　　　Roy　stirred　again　and　John　pushed　him　away；　listening　to　the　silence。　On　other　mornings　heawoke　hearing　his　mother　singing　in　the　kitchen；　hearing　his　father　in　the　bedroom　behind　himgrunting　and　muttering　prayers　to　himself　as　he　put　on　his　clothes；　hearing；　perhaps；　the　chatter　ofSarah　and　the　squalling　of　Ruth；　and　the　radios；　the　clatter　of　pots　and　pans；　and　the　voices　of　allthe　folk　nearby。　This　morning　not　even　the　cry　of　a　bedspring　disturbed　the　silence；　and　Johnseemed；　therefore；　to　be　listening　to　his　own　unspeaking　doom。　He　could　believe；　almost；　that　hehad　awakened　late　on　that　great　getting…up　morning；　that　all　the　saved　had　been　transformed　in　thetwinkling　of　an　eye；　and　had　risen　to　meet　Jesus　in　the　clouds；　and　that　he　was　left；　with　his　sinfulbody；　to　be　bound　in　hell　a　thousand　years。
　　He　had　sinned。　In　spite　of　the　saints；　his　mother　and　his　father；　the　warning　he　had　heardfrom　his　earliest　beginnings；　he　had　sinned　with　his　hands　a　sin　that　was　hard　to　forgive。　In　theschool　lavatory；　alone；　thinking　of　the　boys；　older；　bigger；　braver；　who　made　bets　with　each　otheras　to　whose　urine　could　arch　higher；　he　had　watched　in　himself　a　transformation　of　which　hewould　never　dare　to　speak。
　　And　the　darkness　of　John’s　sin　was　like　the　darkness　of　the　church　on　Saturday　evenings；like　the　silence　of　the　church　while　he　was　there　alone；　sweeping；　and　running　water　into　the　greatbucket；　and　overturning　chairs；　long　before　the　saints　arrived。　It　was　like　his　thoughts　as　he　movedabout　the　tabernacle　in　which　his　life　had　been　spent；　the　tabernacle　hated；　yet　loved　and　feared。　Itwas　like　Roy’s　curses；　like　the　echoes　these　curses　raised　in　John：　he　remembered　Roy；　on　somerare　Saturday　when　he　had　e　to　help　John　clean　the　church；　cursing　in　the　house　of　God；　andmaking　obscene　gestures　before　the　eyes　of　Jesus。　It　was　like　all　this；　and　it　was　like　the　walls　thatwitnessed　and　the　placards　on　the　walls　which　testified　that　the　wages　of　sin　was　death。　Thedarkness　of　his　sin　was　in　the　hardheartedness　with　which　he　resisted　God’s　power；　in　the　scornthat　was　often　his　while　he　listened　to　the　crying；　breaking　voices；　and　watched　the　black　skinglisten　while　they　lifted　up　their　arms　and　fell　on　their　faces　before　the　Lord。　For　he　had　made　hisdecision。　He　would　not　be　like　his　father；　or　his　father’s　fathers。　He　would　have　another　life。
　　For　John　excelled　in　school；　though　not；　like　Elisha；　in　mathematics　or　basket…ball；　and　itwas　said　that　he　had　a　Great　Future。　He　might　bee　a　Great　Leader　of　His　People。　John　was　notmuch　interested　in　His　people　and　still　less　in　leading　them　anywhere；　but　the　phrase　so　oftenrepeated　rose　in　his　mind　like　a　great　brass　gate；　opening　outward　for　him　on　a　world　where　peopledid　not　live　in　the　darkness　of　his　father’s　house；　did　not　pray　to　Jesus　in　the　darkness　of　hisfather’s　church；　where　he　would　eat　good　food；　and　wear　fine　clothes；　and　go　to　the　movies　asoften　as　he　wished。　In　this　world　John；　who　was；　his　father　said；　ugly；　who　was　always　the　smallestboy　in　his　class；　and　who　had　no　friends；　became　immediately　beautiful；　tall；　and　popular。　Peoplefell　all　over　themselves　to　meet　John　Grimes。　He　was　a　poet；　or　a　college　president；　or　a　moviestar；　he　drank　expensive　whisky；　and　he　smoke　Lucky　Strike　cigarettes　in　the　green　package。
　　It　was　not　only　colored　people　who　praised　John；　since　they　could　not；　John　felt；　in　anycase　really　know；　but　white　people　also　said　it；　in　fact　had　said　it　first　and　said　it　still。　It　was　whenJohn　was　five　years　old　and　in　the　first　grade　that　he　was　first　notic