There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
the holy habitation of the Most High.
Psalm 46:4
I said to the river,
Is it true what Heraclitus said, that no man ever steps in the same river twice, for it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man?
And the river replied,
I am one river from headwater to mouth. A man’s mouth is in his head. That is not much of a span, and certainly not, as Protagoras would have it, the measure of all things. For here I am, but where is Protagoras? Where is Heraclitus? The measure of man is his measure, not mine.
I said,
But you have been defined and your path charted by man’s instruments.
The river splashed my foot and said,
His maps are pretty, but they have no fish in them.
So I said,
But you are constrained, are you not? Must you not follow the path marked out for you by mountain and canyon and stone? Consider this valley. It is humble, but it determines your way.
The river seemed amused and answered,
I shaped this valley. I carved the canyon and exposed the stone. The landscape does not fashion me; I fashion the landscape. Even the mighty mountains appeared only at the waters’ retreat. Water was first. Water defines the land, not the land, water.
Then I said,
Sometimes you overflow your banks and destroy men and what they have labored to build. Why are you so angry?
The river replied,
A river will have its way. It is not anger that swells the flow or propels the torrent. It is justice.
I frowned—
I do not understand. How is this justice?
And the river responded,
Justice restores the balance of things, whether of too much or too little.
I said,
Surely not all those ruined by the flood are guilty!
In answer, the river said,
Justice is not about guilt. It is about right. The good is costly, even for the righteous, especially for the righteous.
I murmured,
This is a difficult thing.
The river replied,
Neither are men the measure of justice. They do not control the river.
I pointed and cried,
Not so! Behold this towering dam! By it men protect themselves from your caprice and harness your current for their industry. They redirect your waters for their profit. You power their hospitals and sweatshops and casinos and churches and whorehouses! You enable their enlightenments, their entertainments, and their engines of war!
The river grew stern and rumbled,
Men do not control the river.
Unnerved, I whispered,
I am thirsty.
The river showed me a quiet pool.
Drink.
I bent to the still surface and sipped. The water was cool and sweet.
I said,
If only all might find this place and drink.
The river then lifted me up. I rose higher and higher, above the valley, above the mountains, beyond the clouds, until I could see the whole of the earth.
Astonished, I exclaimed,
It’s all river!
The river did not respond, but its voice was everywhere.
