Free Silence by Shusaku Endo Page A

Unzen when dragged before the fumie had cried out: ‘I had rather this foot were cut off than that I should trample on this image.   …’ I know that many Japanese Christians and fathers have manifested such feelings when the holy picture was brought before their feet. But was it possible to demand this from these three unfortunate men?
    ‘Trample! Trample!’ I shouted. But immediately I realized that I had uttered words that should never have been on my lips. Garrpe looked at me reproachfully.
    Kichijirō was still snivelling. ‘Why has Deus Sama given us this trial? We have done no wrong,’ he cried.
    We were silent. Mokichi and Ichizo also remained silent; their eyes seemed fixed on a speck in the empty sky.
    So all together we joined in a last prayer; and when we had finished, the three men descended the mountain. Garrpe and I watched the figures as they disappeared into the mist and were lost from sight. Never again was I to meet Mokichi and Ichizo.
    Again it is a long time since I wrote to you. I have already described how the officials descended upon Tomogi; but I had to wait until now to be able to continue with the details about the cross-examination of the three Christians at Nagasaki. We multiplied our prayers to Heaven that they, together with the Jiisama, might be restored to us in safety. Night after night the people of the village offered up their prayers for this intention.
    I do not believe that God has given us this trial to no purpose. I know that the day will come when we will clearly understand why this persecution with all its sufferings has been bestowed upon us—for everything that Our Lord does is for our good. And yet, even as I write these words I feel the oppressive weight in my heart of those last stammering words of Kichijirō on the morning of his departure: ‘Why has Deus Sama imposed this suffering upon us?’ And then the resentment in those eyes that he turned upon me. ‘Father’, he had said, ‘what evil have we done?’
    I suppose I should simply cast from my mind these meaningless words of the coward; yet why does his plaintive voice pierce my breast with all the pain of a sharp needle? Why has Our Lord imposed this torture and this persecution on poor Japanese peasants? No, Kichijirō was trying to express something different, something even more sickening. The silence of God. Already twenty years have passed since the persecution broke out; the black soil of Japan has been filled with the lament of so many Christians; the red blood of priests has flowed profusely; the walls of the churches have fallen down; and in the face of this terrible and merciless sacrifice offered up to Him, God has remained silent. This was the problem that lay behind the plaintive question of Kichijirō.
    Anyhow, let me simply tell you about the fate that befell us after this.
    The three men were summoned to the magistrate’s office at a place called Sakuradai. For two days they were left lying in the prison at the back of the place, until finally they were brought out for questioning. For some reason or other the questioning began with a strangely mechanical question and answer.
    ‘You know that Christianity is an outlawed religion?’
    Mokichi, spokesman for the others, nodded his assent.
    ‘A report has been sent in that you are practising this outlawed religion. What have you to say?’
    All three answered that they were convinced Buddhists living in accordance with the teaching of the monks at the Danna Temple. The next step was: ‘If that is so, trample on the fumie. ’
    A board to which was attached an image of the Virgin and Child was placed at their feet. Following my advice, Kichijirō was the first to place his foot on the image; after him Mokichi and Ichizo did likewise. But if they thought that only by this would they be pardoned, they were greatly mistaken. Slowly there appeared on the faces of the watching officials faint smiles. What had caught their attention was not the actual