From Neal Stephenson's "Cryptonomicon." Goto Dengo speaking to Enoch Root:

"Who are they?"

"Men who have been to hell and come back, as you did. Men who know about the gold."

"What do they want?"

"To dig up the gold."

Nausea wraps around Goto Dengo like a wet bedsheet. "They would have to tunnel down through a thousand fresh corpses. It is a grave."

"The whole world is a grave," says Enoch Root. "Graves can be moved, corpses reinterred. Decently." "And then? If they got the gold?"

"The world is bleeding. It needs medicine and bandages. These cost money."

"But before this war, all of this gold was out here, in the sunlight. In the world. Yet look what happened." Goto Dengo shudders. "Wealth that is stored up in gold is dead. It rots and stinks. True wealth is made every day by men getting up out of bed and going to work. By school children doing their lessons, improving their minds. Tell those men that if they want wealth, they should come to Nippon with me after the war. We will start businesses and build buildings."

"Spoken like a true Nipponese," Enoch says bitterly. "You never change." "Please make me understand what you are saying."

"What of the man who cannot get out of bed and work, because he has no legs? What of the widow who has no husband to work, no children to support her? What of children who cannot improve their minds because they lack books and schoolhouses?"

"You can shower gold on them," Goto Dengo says. "Soon enough, it will all be gone." "Yes. But some of it will be gone into books and bandages."

Goto Dengo does not have a rejoinder for this. He is not outsmarted so much as sad and tired. "What do you want? You think I should give the gold to the Church?"

Enoch Root looks mildly taken aback, as if the idea hadn’t really occurred to him before. "You could do worse, I suppose. The Church has two thousand years of experience in using its resources to help the poor. It has not always been perfect. But is has built its share of hospitals and schools."

Goto Dengo shakes his head. "I have only been in your Church for a few weeks and already I have many doubts about it. It has been a good thing for me. But to give it so much gold—I am not sure if this is a good idea."

"Don’t look at me as if you expect me to defend the Church’s imperfections," says Enoch Root. "They have kicked me out of the priesthood."

"Then what shall I do?"

"Perhaps give it to the Church with conditions."

"What?"

"You can stipulate that it only be used to educate children, if you choose."

Goto Dengo says, "Educated men created this cemetery."

"Then choose some other condition."

"My condition is that if that gold ever comes out of the ground, it should be used so that we do not have any more wars like this one."

"And how should we accomplish such a thing, Goto Dengo?"

Goto Dengo sighs. "You put a big weight on my shoulders!"

"No. I did not put the weight on your shoulders. It has always been there." Enoch Root stares mercilessly into Goto Dengo’s tormented face. "Jesus takes away the sins of the world, but the world remains: a physical reality on which we are doomed to live until death takes us away from it. You have confessed, and you have been forgiven, and so the greater part of your burden has been taken away by grace. But the gold is still there, in a hole in the ground. Did you think that the gold all turned into dirt when you swallowed the bread and the wine? That is not what we mean by transubstantiation." Enoch Root turns his back and walks away, leaving Goto Dengo alone in the bright avenues of the city of the dead.