I remember vividly the account given by Elie Wiesel, in his book Night.1 He described the execution of three Jews at Auschwitz, including a child. They stood on three chairs and the nooses were placed around their necks. As the execution signal was given, the three chairs were tipped over. Two of them passed away quickly, but not the child, since he was too light. All eyes were settled on the child and were forced to witness the death of the child. People asked, “Where is God?” And Wiesel’s inner voice said, “Where is He? This is where: hanging here from this gallows…” The child who is voicelessly crying.
In today’s secular world, many think that the notion of ‘God,’ or even of religion, is no longer relevant. Is this really so? I believe each one of us has our own answer. Perhaps the question we could all be asking in the here and now is “Where is Hope?” instead of pondering on a theological debate – “Where is God?” In everyday life, the notions of tolerance and respect are widely promoted. However, I sometimes wonder, is the world really becoming more tolerant?
We are seeing growing opposition to refugee resettlement, Islamophobia – or even more commonly, growing indifference to these social problems, as if we have never heard the voiceless cries of those who are suffering. The desire to understand others’ religions or cultures seems to have declined in modern days, though the need to understand others’ cultures and religions is widely mentioned. Sometimes, it even seems to be a taboo for one to talk about their personal views on these social problems. I wonder, how can tolerance grow if we all hold such an indifferent attitude? Can we still have hope in humanity?
In November 2018, I joined the Parliament of the World’s Religions (PoWR). One thing that struck me during the conference was the Shabbat prayer with the Jewish community. We prayed in Hebrew with people from all walks of life. A strong and united vibe was present among us, which I have never experienced anywhere before. I did not understand the prayer, yet I knew that we were together. The sense of togetherness was so strong that it felt as if we were being upheld by the same spirit, no matter what and how we want to call it.
I remember that a Catholic priest once said, “When Jesus was born as a little baby, the first word out of His mouth was not a theological treatise; He simply let out a cry.” We were all once like a helpless baby, crying for help. How do we all reply to such voiceless cries?
PoWR is an invitation for us to drop what we are doing. To simply stop and listen to the voiceless cry of humanity – not just of those killed in the Holocaust, but also those cries in the here and now. The cry that demands a response, tolerance, and hope. May we all have the courage to respond to the Voiceless Cry with the spirit of togetherness, the fundamental connection between human beings.
1 Wiesel, E. (2006). Night (M. Wiesel, Trans.). New York: Hill and Wang.
About the author:
Oi Yin Lai is pursing a M.Sc. in Geography at McGill University. She specializes in biogeochemistry and hydrology of peatland ecosystems. In addition to her science background, she majored in Philosophy during her undergraduate studies at the University of Toronto. This unique academic background sparked off her passion in Faith and Reason, as well as inter-faith/inter-cultural dialogues.
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