Silence

23 Friday Dec 2016

Posted by Phillip in Book Review, Faith, Persecution

Tags

Book Review, Catholicism, Christianity, Endo, movie, self denial, Silence

Shusaku Endo’s book is very well written and a fine piece of literature; however, Endo’s theology and conclusion reached at the end of the story is simply bad theology and not a conclusion that is Catholicism, but rather a new age religion. The book has great value when describing events that actually occurred in Japan to those who professed the Christian faith.

The main character of the book is Fr. Rodrigues and his story take place after the apostasy of a real priest who renounced his faith by the name of Cristóvão Ferreira.[1] I became interested in the title due to Martin Scorsese releasing a movie adaptation of the book. I decided before reading the book to read a few reviews, which of course led to spoilers—this post will have them as well. The great part about knowing the ending of the book is realizing how much the author has deeply layered his work with fantastic foreshadowing.

Many reviews warned the danger of the Endo’s misguided theology; however, having studied my faith I decided to read the title due to my own personal quest to know, how would I respond facing potential martyrdom? If my life or death was held in the balance, what would be my answer? How strong is my faith in God? Some may find it easy to declare that they would die for their faith, but so did Peter—who denied Christ, and so did Fr. Rodrigues who apostatized.

I am very critical of Endo’s main character Fr. Rodrigues; however, the reader must also realize that Fr. Rodrigues inner dialogue has a certain tension, I would certainly articulate this to be the two voices of Endo. Endo frames Fr. Rodrigues when he first sets off as a great witness to Christ’s truth and at times during Fr. Rodrigues interrogation he gives remarks that state the Truth that the Church declares:

The Samurai says, “Father, we are not disputing about the right and wrong of your doctrine. In Spain and Portugal and such countries it may be true. The reason we have outlawed Christianity in Japan is that, after deep and earnest consideration, we find its teaching of no value for the Japan of Today,”[2]

Fr. Rodrigues responds, “According to our way of thinking, truth is universal..If a true doctrine were not true alike in Portugal and Japan we could not call it ‘true.’”[3]

Earlier in the book, Fr. Rodrigues says to a Japanese apostate, who would later betray him. “I ordered him always to keep in mind the words of Our Lord: “He who confessed my name before men, him also will I confess before my Father who is in heaven, but he who denies my name before my men him also I deny before my Father who is in heaven.”[4]

Of course, Fr. Rodrigues will not follow these words of advice when he steps upon The Fumie (An Icon of either Christ or Mary that the Shogunate forced peasants to step on to reveal Christians) He says the Icon spoke to him, “Trample! Trample! I more than anyone knows 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.”[5]

And here is the dangerous theology. Endo’s Icon of Christ says true things; for example, it says that Christ came into the world to share men’s pain. However, Christ purpose for coming into the world is not necessarily to be “trampled” by humanity, but rather to save humanity. Of course, what we find here is something that is occurring within circles of our current Catholic Church, and that is a culture of false mercy.

Let’s break it down:

In Luke Gospel Chapter 12:8-9 NABRE Christ says, “8 I tell you, everyone who acknowledges me before others the Son of Man will acknowledge before the angels of God. 9 But whoever denies me before others will be denied before the angels of God.”

Endo’s Christ says, “ It was to be trampled on by men that I was born into this world.”(denying Christ)

The problem with these two statements is that they’re contradictory;therefore, only one can be true. One can examine the Aristotelian first principles of non-contradictory for further edification. In this regard, Endo has created a new religion that diverges from Christ of the Gospels, the Christ of his youthful conversion. So how did Fr. Rodrigues (and Endo) arrive at such a result as he will attempt to justify himself saying, “I fell. But Lord, you alone know that I did not renounce my faith…I wonder if all this talk about love is not after all, just an excuse to justify my own weakness (notice the two voices of Endo)…I know that my Lord is different from the God that is preached in the churches”[6]

Analyzing the text, I look for Endo’s voice in Fr. Rodrigues’ thoughts and actions. Whenever there is an objection either from Rodrigues’ conscience, peasants, or Fr. Garppe, I consider these to be Endo challenging his own line of thinking withinhis own Catholicism.

The whole book deals with Fr. Rodrigues wanting God to respond to his plight and the plight of the Japanese Christians. Fr. Rodrigues asks God, “Why have you abandoned us so completely?, he prayed in a weak voice. Even the village was constructed for you; and have you abandoned it in its ashes?” [7] It’s interesting that during my own daily prayers, I was saying the rosary and a thought struck me–the words from the Gospel to answer Fr. Rodrigues’ demanding of a sign from God to which Christ spoke about fully in the Gospel.

Matt. 12:39 NABRE

39 He said to them in reply, “An evil and unfaithful[a] generation seeks a sign, but no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah the prophet.

Christ repeats this again in Matthew 16:4 NABRE

“4 An evil and unfaithful generation seeks a sign, but no sign will be given it except the sign of Jonah.”[c] Then he left them and went away.

Furthermore, during the Lord’s prayer in Matthew 6:13, Christ says, ” and do not subject us to the final test.”

Reading through the book, one will notice that Fr. Rodrigues keeps imagining himself as Christ throughout the story; for example, “In his imagination everyday he had dramatically pictured the scene as being like the meeting of Pilate an Christ—the crowd howling.”[8] It would better have served him instead of looking for a glorious martyrdom by imagining himself as Christ, he should have looked to Peter’s denial of Christ and be humble and pray NOT to be put the test. In this manner, what drew me to the book is the notion that I’ve always doubted what I would do if put to the test. My prayers, in this regard, is for God to give me grace and a deeper faith.

In the end, Fr. Rodrigues (and Endo) should have looked to the Gospels to understand that Christ was the sign, Christ had already broken the silence by His resurrection. Instead of praying for a sign, instead, he should have prayed for the grace of faith.

*I will note that this book has tremendous depth and there are subjects that are brought up like the figure of Judas and God delivering a greater good out of a betrayer that I didn’t even bring up. Also, it appears that Fr. Rodrigues at times suffers from Pride, a deadly sin, and vainglory a deadly thought, which perhaps tipped the scales for his apostasy.

[1] Shusaku Endo, Trans. William Johnston, Silence (New York: Picador Modern Classics, 2016), XVII.

[2] Ibid, 116.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid, 43.

[5] Ibid, 183.

[6] Ibid, 187.

[7] Ibid, 103.

[8] Ibid, 114.

A Remarkable Faith

07 Wednesday Dec 2016

Posted by NEO in Book Review, Church/State, Faith, Persecution

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

Christianity, Church & State, history, Testimony

irina It’s funny sometimes, how things come together. Last night, I was looking at some old posts on NEO, thinking about rerunning a few over Christmas. Some are mine, and some are Jess’. Two that really struck me were two of hers speaking about Alexander Solzhenitsyn, and his not all that favorable view of the west.

This morning I read in the Catholic Herald, from our friend Francis Phillips, about an interview on Radio Four with Irina Ratushinskaya. She was, as I’m sure few of you know, I hadn’t, sentenced to four years in the Soviet labor camps, mostly, I think, because she was a Christian. Well, make that present tense, because she still is.

Here is some of what Francis says.

By coincidence, I happened to visit the friend who had introduced me to Ratushinskaya on the evening of the morning I had heard the broadcast. We both listened to the interview again and I borrowed Ratushinskaya’s subsequent book, In the Beginning, about her life before her mock trial in 1982, from my friend’s book shelf.

It struck me how God can penetrate the most improbable places, such as the rigidly atheistic school environment in Odessa, where Ratushinskaya grew up in the early 1960s. Stalin might be dead but under his successor, Khrushchev, the penalty for anti-Soviet behaviour, such as writing religious poetry, was still extraordinarily harsh.

As a child Ratushinskaya started to pray, convinced that God existed because her teachers kept insisting that He didn’t. She understood almost instinctively that that only through religious faith would her soul “remain my own: nobody will be able to manipulate me.” Later she learnt that her grandmother had her secretly christened when she was a baby.

It struck me, as it seemed to strike Francis, as remarkable how in a society as aggressively atheistic as the Soviet Union, she still managed to think her way into Christianity, as did her husband. It’s also remarkable that they were able to find things like an Orthodox priest to marry them, and to soldier on, carrying the flame of Christ, now finally in the open.

What a remarkable story, do read the whole thing.

The history of religion

24 Wednesday Aug 2016

Posted by chalcedon451 in Book Review, Faith

≈ 10 Comments

Tags

Christianity, controversy, Doubt, post-religious

9780300208832

The former Primus of the Scottish Episcopal Church (1992-2000), the Right Rev Richard Holloway has just published a book called A Little History of Religion (Yale, £14.99, pp. 244), which I reviewed for The Times, but since that is behind a paywall for many, I thought it might be worth sharing my thoughts on it here in a less formal setting.

The first thing to say is it is well-written book, and few will come away not knowing more about the religions of the world than they did before reading it. It is very much the product of its author’s own theological evolution, and its conclusions are not surprising to those who have read any of his last few books. Religion is the product of human imagination; it served our needs when we knew no better; it did some good things; it did more bad things (at least in its monotheistic forms); and it is now on its way out. Long before he announced his own conversion to a ‘post religious’ point of view, Holloway had seemed almost a caricature of the progressive, self-consciously ‘modern’ cleric, who never saw a ‘progressive’ cause he couldn’t support, or an orthodox Christian position he could. Naturally he was a frequent broadcaster on the BBC, and often asked to contribute to newspapers and magazines; he was the very model of modern bishop. In some ways the caricature was unfair. He thinks deeply about what he writes, but if it ever really existed, somewhere along the way, his faith in the redeeming power of Christ faded away. That viewpoint dominates the book.

The connection between such a character of church leadership and the state of the Church in the modern West would make an interesting study; whatever their personal virtues, men who do not really believe in Jesus except as an interesting moral teacher cannot make good shepherds. What they can do, however, is to spread doubt and encourage those who would do the same. The hungry sheep look up and are fed stones. Holloway’s teleology is a common one. With the advance of science and the spread of better education, religion has had its day. But let us stop here for a moment. For an author sensitive to the cultural imperialism of some religions (including the one he used to belong to), this is a strangely Western viewpoint, ignoring the fact that Europe is very much an outlier in global terms. The notion, once common (and implicit here) that the rest of the world would surely follow the enlightened example of the West, gets little support from an example of trends outside the Western world, and even there, his (to him) optimistic conclusion that religion will be replaced by ‘secular humanism’, seems doubtful on a long-term projection of demographic trends, which see Islam becoming steadily more important. Since he is critical of the founder of Islam for using war as an instrument of his spiritual purposes, one might have expected a pause for thought here.

Holloway’s technique, like his prose, beguiles. He takes what he calls a ‘zig-zag’ approach, which could, in less skilful hands, have been disastrous, but which, in his own, offers us an interesting path through the subject, beginning with why humans have always needed a God or gods (a phenomenon which might have detained him for longer had he offered us some reflections on its implications) then proceeds on an erudite pilgrimage through the world’s religions. It is easy to spot his favourites. He likes those religions which he thinks sit most lightly on their devotees and which align them (in his view) with Western environmental concerns, so the Jains, with their renunciation of desire and refusal to make judgements about right and wrong, like the Quakers (for not dissimilar reasons) score highly with him. The religion of the Native Americans inspires one of his few rhetorical flights (‘They had a sacred connection to the land that sustained them … They felt themselves to be enclosed in a living mystery’), and he writes movingly of their ‘crucifixion’ at the hands of the slave-owning colonists, without noting their own slave-owning habits and some of the less desirable manifestations of their culture

If, at times, this comes close to being an A-level primer for ‘World Religions’ (with better prose but no illustrations), it is also curiously dated in its treatment of Christianity. With the exception of a mention of the Eastern Orthodox Church, his Christianity is that of the West, and his treatment of that fails to reflect the scholarship of the last thirty years. Despite the work of scholars like Eamon Duffy, Holloway still gives us a Catholic Church on the eve of the Reformation that was corrupt and in decline, and persists in writing as though in England it was all about Henry VIII’s libido. His Reformation story is mainly about England, which allows him to deal with America, but from this point on, there is a sense that the book loses its global ambitions and becomes about the Anglosphere. Here, as ever, he has interesting asides about some of the stranger manifestations of apocalyptic belief, charting the myriad disappointments of those who have preached the end of the world; one day, no doubt, their moment will come.

As Hollway eases us into the modern period, his focus remains Eurocentric, both in the areas he treats and the way he treats them. Naturally, he approves of the Ecumenical movement in Christianity, but seems to see it as the antechamber to his favoured ‘secular humanism’, as it perhaps was for him and has been for others. He has predictably hard things to say about fundamentalism, which shades into disapproval of any church which fails to accept the dictates of twentieth-century Western liberal humanism. This gives the impression that, in a very unecumenical way, he fails to understand the theological arguments against women priests, or (more likely) considers them spurious and self-serving excuses not to do the right thing (as he sees it).

In the end, Holloway offers us a period-piece to which people will react in different ways: to those who suspect that some bishops have never quite believed what the men and women who pay their salaries believe, this book will offer succour; to those who stick with the secularisation thesis, it offers hope; and to those who think religions are a bad thing, it offers ammunition. But for anyone wondering about the significance of the fact that across the globe, religious belief is rising, and for those wondering about the effects of that even in the West, there is nothing to be had from Holloway; he knows what he knows with a certainty which was lacking in his Christian faith. This is a book which starts by asking the biggest questions, but it ends with the most trite and conventional liberal answers.

[This is a longer version of a review which appeared in The Times on 20 August].