Tuesday, June 24, 2008

'The Sunflower': an Introduction

The Sunflower
Summoned to the bedside of a dying Nazi who had willingly participated in the systematic annihilation of Europe's Jews, concentration camp inmate Simon Wiesenthal found himself the captive, solitary witness to this 21-year-old SS man's confession of responsibility for committing acts of unspeakable cruelty.

Kurt had asked a nurse to bring him a Jew (any Jew would do); quite by chance the nurse selected Wiesenthal from the work detail assigned to the hospital that day. Against his will, he listened to this man recount his experience of packing a house full of Jewish men, women, and children and then setting the house on fire while lobbing grenades into the inferno and shooting at anyone who had attempted to escape this hell. Kurt watched a father, mother, and small boy leap from a window to their certain death. Before the leap, the father had shielded the child's eyes.

The image haunted Kurt, who was unable to fight again. Instead, he froze on the battlefield and suffered and injury that first cost him his sight and then took his life. Before he died, though, he wanted to confess his sins to a Jew that he might be forgiven and die in peace.

Wiesenthal, who was about the same age as this soldier, heard him out but refused to forgive. Instead, he offered silence in response to the story and returned to the concentration camp.

The experience haunted Wiesenthal; soon after it happened, he discussed it with his friends back at the camp, with a Polish Catholic seminarian. Much later, he presented the story to theologians, political leaders, Holocaust survivors, and victims of other attempted genocides and asked each of these persons what he or she would have done in the same situation.

The Symposium
The story itself is first book of The Sunflower; the responses to the question, "The Symposium," are the text of the second book in this volume. Broadly grouped, the respondents are Jews and Christians, primarily. There are two Buddhist respondents and one Chinese respondent who makes no reference to religion though his response is in keeping with Buddhist thinking. Within these broad categories respondents reflect on different facets of the experience Wiesenthal describes and facets of their faith and life experiences and knowledge to make a response.

The Jewish respondents point to the fact that only the person against whom a sin has been committed has the right to forgive the sinner. Therefore, Kurt cannot be forgiven; his victims are dead. The Christian respondents point out, first, that they feel they have no right to address the question because they have never been on the receiving end of genocide. Then they point out that God alone can forgive and that it is incumbent on each of us sinners to find forgiveness in our hearts for others. The Buddhists respond, as Buddhists do, in the present tense and with an eye on enlightenment--a release from suffering. Each perspective reflects a different concept of individuality and therefore of the nature of accountability.

The Invitation
For this reader, The Sunflower accomplishes the important task of bringing the reader into the concentration camp alongside one of its victims, into the hospital room of the dying SS man, and into the heart of the questions the Holocaust raises about responsibility, accountability, forgiveness, restitution, and grace. These are questions that refuse pat answers and therefore remain alive and active in our minds. Wiesenthal's book challenges our ability to empathize with those who suffer and our ability to think about how and why we believe what we do about ourselves and each other. It is a humble and beautiful tribute to those who suffered and died in the Holocaust. We too can honor their memory by participating in the conversation this book presents.

4 comments:

Annie Jeffries said...

I am so deeply moved by this. I'll be back to participate from time to time. At lunch I will go to Borders and hopefully purchase The Sunflower. Blessings, Annie

Raven said...

Very interesting topic. I'm actually just in the middle of reading the book AMISH GRACE which is about forgiveness. I was wondering as I read the Wiesenthal story why it seemed familiar and realized I had jut read it there. The Amish - at least according to this book - believe that they have to forgive. They take the Lord's prayer (among other bible verses) very literally and believe that they will be forgive as they forgive. Not forgiving is not an option for them.

When my older sister was murdered, I wrote the letter dated here November 11th to the boy who murdered her. I don't know that I have forgiven him, but I couldn't find it in myself to hate him either. What would it serve to do so? My sister is irrevocably gone and no amount of swimming in hate and bitterness will bring her back to me.

Good subject. Sorry to ramble on so.

Isadora said...

Forgiveness, as we know, comes with a very high price tag. It cost Jesus His life to gain forgiveness for the children of God.

Raven said...

isadora - while I don't disagree with what you have said - I would also say that from the mortal perspective forgiveness and the capacity to forgive is a profound blessing which blesses the forgiver as much as the forgiven. Truly given, it connect us to that which is best and most holy in ourselves and it releases us from the bonds of anger, hatred and bitterness. It's not always easy but it's as close in some ways as we can come to emulating God and honoring the sacrifice you talk about.