Having learned his storytelling craft, Ho-ichi is ready to set out to seek his fortune as a traveling storyteller.

After a brief pause, Ho-ichi began the next part of his story.

“The morning I set out to seek my fortune as a storyteller my parents said a fretful goodbye, worried how their blind son whom they’d always protected would fare in the big wide world.

“My mother prepared bread, dates, and raisins to start my journey with. My father gave me the walking staff his father had passed down to him. I rolled up my sleeping mat and slung it and my biwa on my back. My bag of food and skin full of water I hung on my shoulder.

“When I hugged my mother and father goodbye I felt their tears wet my cheeks as we embraced. My brother and sister spoke words of encouragement and patted me on the back. My goodbyes finished, I turned and started down the path that led away from our hut. I knew that path well, having walked it with my father many times. Using my walking staff and my sharp ears to guide me, I began my journey.

“Thus I commenced my life as a storyteller, telling stories from village to village in exchange for food, lodging, clothes and money. Life was not easy. I lost my way many times. I was robbed by unprincipled youth who preyed upon a blind man. Many a night I slept outside under a tree by the road, wrapped tightly in my cloak. Sometimes, if I was fortunate, a wealthy lord would invite me to be his guest for several days. In return for my storytelling I was given a roof over my head, a full belly, and a warm place to sleep. Life was good.”

My life went on like this for many years, traveling from village to village, telling stories and playing the biwa.

Next time: “Stories of Unusual Happenings”

Ho-ichi accompanied his father to the market where he heard the village storyteller. Enthralled by the stories and the teller, Ho-ichi asked his father for a bi-wa.

“When we returned home that night from the market place I asked my father to buy me a biwa so I could learn to play it and tell stories like the village storyteller. My father said, ‘Ho-ichi, you are blind. How can you play a biwa and travel from village to village?’ But my uncle who happened to be visiting, spoke up on my behalf. ‘Ho-ichi is a clever lad. I’m sure he can learn.’

“So with persistent encouragement from my uncle, my father eventually bought me a biwa. Then I went to the village teller and asked to be his apprentice. At first he was hesitant. But when he saw how eager I was to learn to play and tell, he agreed to teach me his craft.

“Every morning the storyteller instructed me on the bi-wa and every afternoon I accompanied him to the marketplace, listened to him tell the ancient stories, and tried to play along on the biwa. I listened and learned until I too could tell the tales and play the biwa. Soon I was telling parts of the stories with the village storyteller. One day, when he was feeling ill, I went to the market place and told stories in his place. That’s when I knew I was ready to set out on my own to seek my destiny.”

Ho-ichi paused for a moment before beginning the next part of his story.In the silence I felt a stirring in my own soul, as if I, too, were about to begin my own journey in search of my destiny.

Next time: “Ho-ichi’s Journey Begins”

Blind Ho-ichi longed for light. Light dawned with the village storyteller.

“One morning my father called me, ‘Ho-ichi!’ ‘Hai! Papa-san!’ I replied. ‘Ho-ichi, take my hand and come with me to the market.’

“I held out my hand and felt my father’s strong, warm hand take mine. Off we walked hand-in-hand to the village.

“When we reached the market my father said, ”Ho-ichi, sit here.’ Papa lifted me unto the top of a wooden barrel next to the door of the potter’s house. ‘Stay here while I buy oil for our lamps and rice for our meals.’ ‘Yes, papa-san,” I said, as I settled myself on the barrel top.

“I could hear the whirl of the potter’s wheel. I tried to imagine what he might be shaping. A pot? A bowl? A cup? Little did I know that I was about to be shaped by what I heard.

Music captured my ear. It was the biwa of the village storyteller. He was playing as he recited the tales of the mighty Heike clan of Japan. Jumping off the barrel I followed the sound of the music and the storyteller’s voice to the edge of the crowd that surrounded him. I wiggled my way through several pairs of legs and sat at the teller’s feet.

As the storyteller spoke and played I saw in my mind’s eye the great and noble Heike family parading through the streets to and from their great manor. I watched the mighty Heike samurai practicing their martial arts. I was there at the last ferocious battle of the Heike against the Genji clan in the waters off Dan-no-ura. The village storyteller brought light to my darkness.”

Next Time: “Ho-ichi Learns His Craft”

During my walk through the woods I sat down to rest, fell asleep, and dreamed that I met Ho-ichi the storyteller. Hoichi began his tale.

“My life began in darkness. I was born blind. Why? I don’t know. Nobody knows. All I have ever known is darkness. But the outer darkness paled in comparison to the night that filled my soul for the first half of my life.

“As a boy, I cursed the darkness and railed against the deity that birthed me blind. The sounds of my brother and sister playing filled me with sadness and bitterness. They would call, ‘Ho-ichi, come play! Ho-ichi, come kick the ball!’ I would run toward the sound of their voices and try to kick the ball of rags they rolled toward my feet. They laughed when the ball rolled under my foot that kicked only the air, then their voices trailed off as they chased the ball leaving me standing alone in the darkness again, longing for some light.

“But I still remember the day things began to change for me.”

Next time: “The Village Storyteller”

I first heard the story of “Ho-ichi the Earless” on storyteller Rafe Martin’s tape, “Ghostly Tales of Japan” many years ago. The story planted itself deep in my psyche and continues to haunt me. It haunts me because, as you will see in my retelling of the tale, it speaks to me of my own fight with my inner and outer demons and how that fight has shaped my life.

Ho-ichi the earless is a character from Japanese mythology. His story is well known in Japan, and the best known English translation first appeared in the book Kwaidan: Stories and Studies of Strange Things, by Lafcadio Hearn.

As you will see, sometimes it’s hard for me to tell where Ho-ichi’s story ends and my story begins. So come with me and we will begin.

On a warm and sunny fall day I walked slowly along the trail through the woods of the Watchung Reservation. The sun warmed my back. Birds chirped and squirrels chattered in my ears. A breeze caressed my face and floated red, yellow, and gold leaves gently to the ground.

I meandered for hours along a stream that led to a pond. At the pond I sat at the foot of a tree, shade over my head, trunk against my back. In the peace, quiet, and warmth I began to doze, then to dream.

He was an old man, short and hunched over. His shaved head revealed scarred-over holes on either side of his head where ears once protruded. A white silk robe hung to the ankles of his bare feet. An understanding and compassionate smile lit up his face. He was blind. But his unseeing eyes seemed to gaze to the depths of my soul.

He sat down beside me, and taking his biwa, a mandolin-like instrument, began to play a haunting melody. His baritone voice was deep, rich, full, and melodic as he began his story.

“My name is Ho-ichi. I am a storyteller…”

Next time: “Birthed in Darkness”

” ‘God will forgive you!’ said he. ‘Maybe I am a hundred times worse than you.’ And at these words his heart grew light and the longing for home left him. He no longer had any desire to leave the prison, but only hoped for his last hour to come. “ 

What caused this change in Ivan’s heart? When Ivan entered the prison he began to seek God, reading the Lives of the Saints, and singing in the prison church choir. Eventually the very evil that brought Ivan to the prison pushed him into the arms of the God whom he sought, where he found great mercy, grace, and consolation. The mercy, grace, and consolation he found in the arms of God empowered Ivan to finally let go of his bitterness and trust God with his life.

When we, like Ivan, are being crushed by evil, we have a choice. Will we become bitter and flee from God or will we flee to the arms of God, the only arms big enough to hold our souls safe the maelstrom of evil?

When, like Ivan in Tolstoy’s story, evil befalls us and we suffer unjustly, it is more helpful to ask “what” than “why.”

We do not have the eternal perspective of God to accurately answer the question of “why” evil befalls us and causes us to suffer. But we can answer the question of “what.”

What am I going to do in the situation I find myself in? What choices will I make about my attitude in the middle of unjust suffering? Will I allow my experience to make me better or bitter?

Ivan wrestled with these questions. When Makar Semyonitch entered the prison camp and Ivan began to suspect that it was he who killed the merchant and set Ivan up to take the rap for it, Tolstoy writes of Ivan:

“He longed for vengeance, even if he himself should perish for it.”

Ivan had chosen to let the evil that befell him make him bitter.For twenty-six years that bitterness had been eating Ivan alive from the inside out and left him a shadow of his former self. Ivan’s bitterness was like him swallowing poison and then waiting for Makar Semyonitch to die. And when Makar didn’t die Ivan toyed with finishing him off himself.

That bitterness came to a head when Ivan determined that Makar Semyonitch was responsible for his being sent to prison. Infected by the snake bite of bitterness, all Ivan could think about was passing the venom of bitterness along.

But Ivan had been injected with the antidote for bitterness. And that antidote was also silently at work within him. In our last post on this topic we will reflect on the antidote to bitterness caused by evil that befalls us unjustly.

Reflecting on Leo Tolstoy’s short story, ”God Sees the Truth, But Waits,” I suspect that there are many people, like me, who identify all too well with Ivan’s plight. What did he do to deserve the evil that befell him? What did I do to deserve the evil that befell me in my childhood? Where was God as Ivan suffered unjustly? Where was God when I suffered unjustly at the hands of my abusers?

Tolstoy’s answer to these questions is found in Ivan’s reflection on his wife’s suspicion of him.

“It seems that only God can know the truth, it is to him alone we must appeal, and from him alone expect mercy.”

No matter how you explain it, God’s relationship to evil is a great mystery and will remain so because God sees eternity through an open door but we see eternity only through a keyhole. In other words,  because we are finite we cannot be privy to all that God knows.

And even if we had a perfectly logical explanation as to why God allows evil to befall people it would still not lessen the pain and agony of people who are suffering.

The only thing we can do in the midst of suffering caused by evil is to appeal to the mercy of God and believe that God knows and is in our suffering with us. The suffering of God with his people in Jesus Christ on the cross is one of the great truths and great mysteries of Christianity.

The other great truth of Christianity that sustains people who suffer unjustly is that God will one day balance the scales and make all things right. There is coming a day when God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. When that day will come no one knows. We must wait with faith for it.

Makar Semyonitch is on his knees begging for forgiveness. What will Ivan’s response be?

Makar Semyonitch did not rise, but beat his head on the floor. “Ivan, forgive me!” he cried. ”When they flogged me  it was not so hard to bear as to see you now…yet you had pity on me, and did not tell. For Christ’s sake forgive me, wretch that I am!” And he began to sob.

When Ivan heard him sobbing he, too, began to weep.

“God will forgive you!” he said. “Maybe I am a hundred times worse than you.” And at these words his heart grew light, and the longing for home left him. He no longer had any desire to leave the prison, but only hoped for his last hour to come.

In spite of what Ivan had said, Makar Semyonitch confessed his guilt. But when the order for his release came, Ivan was already dead.

—

In my next post I will offer some personal reflections on this story. See you on Thursday!

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Story adapted from “God Sees the Truth, But Waits” in Walk in the Light and Twenty-Three Tales by Leo Tolstoy

The tunnel was discovered. The prisoners were questioned. But Ivan refused to tell on Makar Semyonitch.

That night, when Ivan was lying on his bed and just beginning to doze, someone came quietly and sat down on his bed. He peered through the darkness and recognized Makar.

“What do you want of me?” asked Ivan. “Why have you come here?”

“Makar Semyonitch was silent. So Ivan sat up and said, “What do you want? Go away, or I will call the guard!”

Makar Semyonitch bent close over Ivan, and whispered, Ivan, forgive me!”

“What for?” asked Ivan.

“It was I who killed the merchant and hid the knife among your things. I meant to kill you too, but I heard a noise outside; so I hid the knife in your bag and escaped out the window.”

Ivan was silent, and did not know what to say. Makar Semyonitch slid off the bed and knelt upon the ground. “Ivan,” he said, “forgive me! For the love of God, forgive me! I will confess it was I who killed the merchant, and you will be released and you can go home.”

“It is easy for you to talk,” said Ivan, “but I have suffered for you these twenty-six years. Where could I go to now?…My wife is dead, and my children have forgotten me. I have no where to go…”

—

A lifetime of unjust suffering from the lies of an evil man, how will it all end? Thursday’s post will reveal “The Law and Order twist!”

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Story adapted from “God Sees the Truth, But Waits” in Walk in the Light and Twenty-Three Tales by Leo Tolstoy

 Ivan has discovered Makar’s escape plan. Makar threatened Ivan with death if he reveals it.

The next day, when the convicts were led out to work, the convoy soldiers noticed that one or other of the prisoners emptied some earth out of his boots. The prison was searched, and the tunnel found. The warden came and questioned all the prisoners to find out who had dug the hole. They all denied any knowledge of it. Those who knew would not betray Makar Semyonitch , knowing he would be flogged almost to death. At last the warden turned to Ivan, whom he knew to be a just man, and said:

“You are a truthful old man; tell me, before God, who dug the hole.”

Makar Semyonitch stood as if he were quite unconcerned, looking at the warden and not so much as glancing at Ivan. Ivan’s lips and hands trembled, and for a long time he could not utter a word. He thought “Why should I shield him who ruined my life? Let him pay for what I have suffered. But if I tell, they will probably flog the life out of him and maybe I suspect him wrongly. And after all, what good would it be to me?”

“Well, old man,” repeated the warden, “tell us the truth: who has been digging under the wall?”

Ivan glanced at Makar Semyonitch, and said, “I cannot say, sir. It is not God’s will that I should tell! Do what you like with me; I am in your hands.”

However much the warden tried, Ivan would say no more, and so the matter had to be left.

—

Would Ivan have felt better if he told on Makar?

 —

Story adapted from “God Sees the Truth, But Waits” in Walk in the Light and Twenty-Three Tales by Leo Tolstoy

We left Ivan filled with suspicion and bitterness toward the new convict Makar Semyonitch.

After fortnight of sleeplessness nights and miserable days Ivan did not know what to do. One night, as he was walking about the prison he noticed some earth that came rolling out from one of the bunks on which the prisoners slept. He stopped to see what it was. Suddenly, Makar Semyonitch crept out from under the bed, and looked up at Ivan with a frightened face. Ivan tried to pass without looking at him, but Makar seized his hand and told him that he had dug a hole under the wall, getting rid of the earth by putting it into his high boots, and emptying it out every day on the road when the prisoners were driven to their work.

“Just you keep quiet, old man, and you shall get out too. If you blab they’ll flog the life out of me, but I will kill you first.”

Ivan trembled with anger as he looked at his enemy. He drew his hand away saying, “I have no wish to escape, and you have no need to kill me; you killed me long ago! As to tell of you–I may do so or not, as God shall direct.”

—

Will Ivan tell on Makar? Would you? Come back on Thursday to find out!

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Story adapted from “God Sees the Truth, But Waits” in Walk in the Light and Twenty-Three Tales by Leo Tolstoy