“The interpreter had placed before his feet a wooden plaque. On it was a copper plate on which a Japanese craftsman had engraved that man’s face. It was not a Christ whose face was filled with majesty anf glory; neither was it a face made beautiful by endurance of pain; nor was it a face filled with the strength of a will that has repelled temptation. The face of the man who then lay at his feet was sunken and utterly exhausted.”

“Many Japanese had already trodden on it, so that the wood surrounding the plaque was black with the print of their toes. And the face itself was concave, worn down with the constant treading. It was this concave face that had looked at the priest in sorrow. In sorrow it had gazed up at him as the eyes spoke appealingly: ‘Trample! Trample! It is to be trampled on you that I am here.'”

This passage from Silence, written by Japanese novelist Shusaku Endo, is the pivotal point of the entire novel for me. When I think of Japan, I think of technology, order, manners, and ancient traditions. Who thinks about Christ and Japan? I’d never thought about the word “apostatize”. What does it really mean? Continue reading →