The day God died
Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night, seven times cursed and seven times sealed. Never shall I forget that smoke. Never shall I forget the little faces of the children, whose bodies I saw turned into wreaths of smoke beneath a silent blue sky.Night by Elie Wiesel chronicles the author’s experiences as a young Jewish boy in a Nazi death camp. Those experiences led Wiesel to lose whatever faith he had.Never shall I forget those flames which consumed by faith forever. Never shall I forget that nocturnal silence which deprived me, for all eternity, of a the desire to live. Never shall I forget those moments which murdered my God and my soul and turned my dreams to dust. Never shall I forget these things, even if I am condemned to live as long as God Himself. Never.
The foreword to the book is written by a Francois Mauriac, a Christian. Here is his response to Wiesel’s story:
And I, who believe that God is love, what answer could I give my young questioner, whose dark eyes still held the reflection of that angelic sadness which had appeared one day upon the face of the hanged child? What did I say to him? Did I speak of that other Israeli, his brother, who may have resembled him—the Crucified, whose Cross has conquered the world? Did I affirm that the stumbling block to his faith was the cornerstone of mine, and that the conformity between the Cross and the suffering of men was in my eyes the key to that impenetrable mystery whereon the faith of his childhood had perished?At the heart of our faith is Christ crucified. Crucified for young Jewish boys. Crucified for Nazi murderers. Crucified for you and for me. Crucified for sinful humanity. God in Christ.We do not know the worth of one single drop of blood, one single tear. All is grace. If the Eternal is the Eternal, the last word for each one of us belongs to Him. This is what I should have told this Jewish child. But I could only embrace him, weeping.
