Matt Jones' Random Acts of Verbiage

When I found a used copy of Shusaku Endo’s Silence at Powells I thought it would be a great time to read this work of fiction from one of Japan’s “foremost novelists” (someone had talked about it up at Regent once and I have wanted to read it since). In brief: read it. It is a wonderfully written story about a Portuguese Catholic priest in the foreign world of Japan who must deal with core issues of faith: why is God often silent? His struggle is also the struggle of many missionaries to Japan in 17th century who were forced to look apostasy in the face. Shusaku Endo‘s “masterpiece” has received both acclaim and harsh criticism. I imagine there are those within the Roman Catholic church that would call Endo a heretic, but the issues that he raises must be dealt with by all Christians. Simply calling “heresy!” is a cop out: it may be heretical, but it cannot be ignored.

To warn you right off the bat, this is going to be a long post with lots of “spoilers” and quotes from the book. While I will primarily be discussing the theological statements and not the story line, it will be impossible to not give things away. If you feel like the impact of the book will be lessened by reading about it (including the climax), read the book first and then come back; if not, keep on reading!

While Endo’s story is a work of fiction, it was based on real events. The lead character, father Sebastian Rodrigues, is even based on a man named Giuseppe Chiara, a missionary that secretly entered Japan with 9 others in 1643. The harsh Lord of Chikugo, Inoue, and Christovao Ferreira, the apostate Portuguese Provincial who Rodrigues is attempting to find, were real people. During the Edo period Japan changed from an open willingness to foreigners and foreign missionaries to a closed society with violent persecution of many from the Christian faith (so as not to disparage this period too much: it was also a great time of development for Japan). The so called “swamp of Japan” made it very difficult for Christianity to take root. It often ended up being Buddhism with a facade of Christianity over the top that could be easily removed under persecution. Such was the landscape of Japan; a place that needed Christianity to adapt and when it didn’t, things became difficult. In a biography of Endo (Shusaku Endo: Japanese Catholic Novelist, Thought, Winter 1967.) he said this of the Catholic Church (which I think applies to the catholic Christian church in general):

But after all it seems to me that Catholicism is not a solo, but a symphony… If I have trust in Catholicism, it is because I find in it much more possibility than in any other religion for the presenting the full symphony of humanity. The other religions have almost no fullness; they have but solo parts. Only Catholicism can present the full symphony. And unless there is in that symphony a part that corresponds to Japan’s mud swamp, it cannot be a true religion.

This novel is obviously speaking directly about Japan, but the sentiments hold true globally. Jesus Christ came to save all who would accept him. His scope was global, so should Christianity’s. This means that Christianity cannot and will not be the same in every society and culture. Endo is pointing out how the rigid entrance of Christianity to Japan had difficulties. The translator of Silence points out that Shusaku Endo’s voice and commentary on Christianity’s struggle in the 17th century is but one voice and not all agree with him. That being said, the novel speaks to some very interesting issues.

As I get into the novel, it is a good thing to remember that Endo is a writer and not a theologian. While his narrative delves into big issues, he is not necessarily bing prescriptive, but descriptive (humm… kinda like the Bible I suppose…).

“What did the face of Christ look like? This point the Bible passes over in silence.” Two big themes of the book are addressed early on: the face of Christ (which often serves to comfort, strengthen, and calm Rodrigues) and the silence of God (which serves as an internal conflict for Rodrigues who eventually comes to terms with how God uses silence). The forced apostasy of Christians is introduced by some amazing prose: “At the command [Kichijiro] let fall on the fumie the insulting spittle that could never be effaced.” Kichijiro is a character that returns often and is used to present the character of weakness and failure: often being a thorn in Rodrigues’ side. Fortunately Rodrigues realizes that “a priest does not exist in order to become a martyr; he must preserve his life in order that the flame of faith may not utterly die when the church is persecuted.” This also leads well into one of Silence‘s prevalent themes that is evidenced by Rodrigues’ thoughts:

How many of our Christians, if only they had been born in another age from this persecution would never have been confronted with the problem of apostasy or martyrdom but would have lived blessed lives of faith until the very hour of death.

Difficult word to hear, but it is also hard to deny their validity. So what does that mean? Does that mean that unless we are faced with apostasy or martyrdom, we won’t know if we have strong faith? Since this is one of the big issues, I will come back to it later.

After Rodrigues has been captured by the authorities and put in jail and because of the cavalier nature of the guards, sin comes to mind:

Sin, he reflected, is not what it is usually thought to be; it is not to steal and tell lies. Sin is for one man to walk brutally over the life of another and to be quite oblivious of the woulds he has left behind.

Well stated, yes?

Coming back to the discussion of apostasy, the Japanese officials’ demands to step on the fumie came with interesting “incentive”:

‘The sooner you get through with it, the sooner you’ll get out of here,’ roared one of the officials. ‘I’m not telling you to trample with sincerity and conviction. This is only a formality. Just putting your foot on the thing won’t hurt your convictions.’

If this was true, why did it matter? Why didn’t the Christians just do it? If their convictions were not changed, why wouldn’t that trample that inanimate object and be set free?

The story come back to Kichijiro and the issue of persecution:

If there had been no persecution, this fellow would undoubtedly have lived out his life as a happy, good-humored Christian man. ‘Why was I born into the world! Why? … Why…?’ The priest thrust his fingers into his ears to shut out that voice that was like the whining of a dog.

Two things seem important here: 1) Again the notion that our faith might not seem as strong as we think it is and under most circumstances, that is ok because we will never have to deal with the persecution that would damage that faith, and 2) The priest Rodrigues seems to see something of himself in Kichijiro and despises the reminder that they are somewhat alike that wants to block him out (something a priest shouldn’t do). Is this something Christians should worry about? Is it truly weak to not want to be a martyr? Later, Rodrigues finally meets with his apostate priest teacher, Ferreira, who is trying to show Rodrigues the “error’ of his ways by discussing some of the Japanese Christians that suffer for their beliefs that would be freed if Rodrigues apostatizes:

‘Alright. Pray! But those Christians are partaking of a terrible suffering such as you cannot even understand. From yesterday - in the future - now at this very moment. Why must they suffer like this? And while this goes on, you do nothing for them. And God - he does nothing either.’

The priest shook his head wildly, putting both fingers into his ears. But the voice of Ferreira together with the groaning of the Christians broke mercilessly in. Stop! Stop! Lord, it is now that you should break the silence. You must not remain silent. Prove that you are justice, that you are goodness, that you are love. You must say something to show the world that you are the august one.

The first thing that came to mind when reading Ferreira’s “Why?” was: “Because you allow for it to happen!” Ferreira (to a degree) and (primarily) the Japanese officials allow for it to happen. (The statement from Ferreira seemed ironic because he was the one that was actually allowing the pain of the Christians to happen.) This is the classic “problem of pain” that Christians have always had to deal with. The fact is, people are fallen, sin runs rampant in our world. It wasn’t because Rodrigues wouldn’t apostatize, it is because of the orders of the officials. All this is true, but then the cry of Rodrigues were also true. “Lord, it is now that you should break the silence.” How heartbreaking! Christians cannot deny that God, at times, is silent, or at least appears to be silent. It also seem that the word “appears” often creeps in to these discussions in defense of God. Is that necessary? Is it only that God appears to be silent? Or is God truly silent in these moments? Somewhat later Ferreira makes an interesting statement:

‘You make yourself more important than them [the suffering Christians]. You are preoccupied with your own salvation. If you say that you will apostatize, those people will be taken out of the pit. They will be saved from suffering. And you refuse to do so. It’s because you dread to betray the Church. You dread to be the dregs of the Church, like me.’ [...] ‘Certainly Christ would have apostatized from them.’ [...]

‘No, no!’ said the priest, covering his face with his hands and wrenching his voice through his fingers. ‘No, no!’

‘For love Christ would have apostatized. Even if it meant giving up everything he had.’

These are difficult words to fight against. Hard words to believe, too. It seems that one of the claims we Christians like to make is that we strive to be selfless and unselfish. So are we selfish with our salvation? Do we put our salvation above others? Is that something we should be selfish with? Could it be an act of love to apostatize? Would Christ have turned his back on God to save others from pain and torture? Of course one reaction to this is that turning your back on God is an eternal decision whereas the torture of the Christians was a temporary thing. I think that is a very valid argument against Ferreira and the Japanese officials, but that doesn’t remove the suffering from the Christians.

Now you are going to perform the most painful act of love that has ever been performed.

Really? Ever? I kinda think crucifixion might be the reigning champion. Be here the climax comes written so powerfully. I cannot tell if it is because Rodrigues’ character has grown on my throughout the story of it this particular passage was just written so perfectly, but it was impossible to not start blubbering:

‘It is only a formality. What do formalities matter?’ The interpreter urges him on excitedly. ‘Only go through with the exterior form of trampling.’

The priest raises his foot. In it he feels a dull, heavy pain. This is no mere formality. He will now trample on what he has considered the most beautiful thing in his life, on what he has believed most pure, on what is filled with the ideals and the dreams of man. How his foot aches! And then the Christ in bronze speaks to the priest: ‘Trample! Trample! I more than anyone know of the pain in your foot. Trample! It was to be trampled on by men that I was born into this world. It was to share men’s pain that I carried my cross.’

The priest placed his foot on the fumie. Dawn broke. And fan in the distance the cock crew.

Later on the now apostate priest would later murmur to himself: “What matter about all this. It is not they who judge my heart but only Our Lord.” And then:

‘What do you understand? You Superiors in Macao, you in Europe!’ He wanted to stand face to face with them in the darkness and speak in his own defense. ‘You live a carefree life in tranquility and security, in a place where there is no storm and no torture - it is there that you carry on your apostolate. There you are esteemed as great ministers of God. You send out soldiers into the raging turmoil of the battlefield. But generals who warm themselves by the fire in a tent should not reproach the soldiers that are taken prisoner…’ (But no, this is only my self-justification. I’m deceiving myself.) The priest shook his head weakly. (Why even now am I attempting this ugly self-defence?)

I fell. But, Lord, you alone know that I did not renounce my faith. [...]

I wonder if there is any difference between Kichijiro an myself. And yet, rather than this I know that my Lord is different from the God that is preached in the churches.

It was unbearable for him to see his own ugly face in the mirror that was Ferreira - Ferreira sitting in front of him, clad in the same Japanese clothes, using the same Japanese language, and like himself expelled from the Church.

So what did the apostasy mean? Rodrigues has changed immensely, some for good and some for bad. He knows who Christ is and why he came. Is he not saved?

The issue of God’s silence returns in the end with a conversation between Rodrigues and Christ:

‘Lord, I resented your silence.’

‘I was not silent. I suffered beside you.’

‘But you told Judas to go away: What thou dost do quickly. What happened to Judas?’

I did not say that. Just as I told you to step on the plaque, so I told Judas to do what he was going to do. For Judas was in anguish as you are now.’

Then the final interaction with Kichijiro who still wanted absolution:

‘There are neither the strong nor the weak. Can anyone say that the weak do not suffer more than the strong?’ The priest spoke rapidly, facing the entrance. ‘Since in this country there is now no one else to hear your confession, I will do it… Say the prayers after confession… Go in peace!’

Kichijiro wept softly; then he left the house. The priest had administered that sacrament that only the priest can administer. No doubt his fellow priests would condemn his act as sacrilege; but even if he was betraying them, he was not betraying his Lord. He loved him now in a different way from before. Everything that had taken place until now had been necessary to bring him to this love. ‘Even now I am the last priest in this land. But Our Lord was not silent. Even if he had been silent, my life until this day would have spoken of him.’

Orthodox? No, not quite. Heretical? I don’t know if I would go that far. We should definitely stand up for our faith, all the time! I would even say we should always be willing to die for our faith. Does that mean we always should? If you have managed to make it this far in the post [I am impressed!], what are your thoughts on the matter? I don’t think it is black and white as we would like it to be. I cannot think of a truer statement when Christ speaks to Rodrigues and says “It was to be trampled on by men that I was born into this world.” That doesn’t necessarily condone apostasy, but that really is why Christ was here, to take our sin. Judas betrayed Christ. Even Peter denied Christ three times: Rodrigues only did it once before the cock crowed.

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Matthew Jones