“Do it ... Joy, the joy of some poor, very poor people ... Why,of course they were poor, if there wasn’t even enough wine for the wedding. Historians write that the people living around the lake of Gennesaret and in all those parts were the poorest people imaginable . . .[234] And the other great heart of the other great being, who was right there, too, his mother, knew that he came down then not just for his great and awful deed, but that his heart was also open to the simple, artless merrymaking of some uncouth, uncouth but guileless beings, who lovingly invited him to their poor marriage feast. ‘Mine hour is not yet come,’ he says with a quiet smile (he must have smiled meekly to her) ... Indeed, was it to increase the wine at poor weddings that he came down to earth? Yet he went and did what she asked ... Ah, he’s reading again.” “...
“But what’s this? What’s this? Why are the walls of the room opening out? Ah, yes ... this is the marriage, the wedding feast ... yes, of course. Here are the guests, here the newlyweds, and the festive crowd, and ... where is the wise ruler of the feast? But who is this? Who? Again the room is opening out ... Who is getting up from the big table? What ... ? Is he here, too? Why, he is in the coffin ... But here, too ... He has gotten up, he’s seen me, he’s coming over ... Lord!”
Yes, to him, to him he came, the little wizened old man with fine wrinkles on his face, joyful and quietly laughing. Now there was no coffin anymore, and he was wearing the same clothes as the day before, when he sat with them and visitors gathered around him. His face was all uncovered and his eyes were radiant. Can it be that he, too, is at the banquet, that he, too, has been called to the marriage in Cana of Galilee ... ?
“I, too, my dear, I, too, have been called, called and chosen,” the quiet voice spoke over him. “Why are you hiding here, out of sight ... ? Come and join us.”
His voice, the elder Zosima’s voice ... How could it be anyone else, since he was calling? The elder raised Alyosha a little with his hand, and Alyosha got up from his knees.
“We are rejoicing,” the little wizened man continued, “we are drinking new wine, the wine of a new and great joy. See how many guests there are? Here are the bridegroom and the bride, here is the wise ruler of the feast, tasting the new wine. Why are you marveling at me? I gave a little onion, and so I am here. And there are many here who only gave an onion, only one little onion ... What are our deeds? And you, quiet one, you, my meek boy, today you, too, were able to give a little onion to a woman who hungered. Begin, my dear, begin, my meek one, to do your work! And do you see our Sun, do you see him?”
“I’m afraid ... I don’t dare to look,” whispered Alyosha.
“Do not be afraid of him. Awful is his greatness before us, terrible is his loftiness, yet he is boundlessly merciful, he became like us out of love, and he is rejoicing with us, transforming water into wine, that the joy of the guests may not end. He is waiting for new guests, he is ceaselessly calling new guests, now and unto ages of ages. See, they are bringing the new wine, the vessels are being brought in...”
Something burned in Alyosha’s heart, something suddenly filled him almost painfully, tears of rapture nearly burst from his soul ... He stretched out his hands, gave a short cry, and woke up . . .
