The Trial of God

(as it was held on February 25, 1649, in Shamgorod)

The Trial of God (as it was held on February 25, 1649, in Shamgorod)
A Play by Elie Wiesel
Translated by Marion Wiesel
Introduction by Robert McAfee Brown
Afterword by Matthew Fox
 
Where is God when innocent human beings suffer? This drama lays bare the most vexing questions confronting the moral imagination.
 
Set in a Ukranian village in the year 1649, this haunting play takes place in the aftermath of a pogrom. Only two Jews, Berish the innkeeper and his daughter Hannah, have survived the brutal Cossack raids. When three itinerant actors arrive in town to perform a Purim play, Berish demands that they stage a mock trial of God instead, indicting Him for His silence in the face of evil. Berish, a latter-day Job, is ready to take on the role of prosecutor. But who will defend God? A mysterious stranger named Sam, who seems oddly familiar to everyone present, shows up just in time to volunteer.
 
The idea for this play came from an event that Elie Wiesel witnessed as a boy in Auschwitz: “Three rabbis—all erudite and pious men—decided one evening to indict God for allowing His children to be massacred. I remember: I was there, and I felt like crying. But there nobody cried.”
 
Inspired and challenged by this play, Christian theologians Robert McAfee Brown and Matthew Fox, in a new Introduction and Afterword, join Elie Wiesel in the search for faith in a world where God is silent.
As the curtain rises, MENDEL, AVRÉMEL and YANKEL are sitting at a table. MARIA is wiping off the chairs at another. BERISH comes in, running; he is annoyed.
 
BERISH
A glass, Maria. Hanna will get up any minutes, and she’ll be thirsty; and there is no glass in her room. I don’t understand, Maria—do you? I have glasses everywhere, for everybody; except for Hanna!
(He goes to a table to pick up a clean glass)
 
MARIA
You’re running, running, Master. You’re always running. Where to, Master? Where from? Why are you running? (BERISH stops; he is startled) Don’t you see we’ve got customers? Hanna is asleep. Leave her alone. When she gets up, I will be there to take care of her, as I always do. But the customers, Master, have you forgotten them? Do I have to do everything, see everything, be everywhere?
 
BERISH
Be quiet, Maria. Hanna is restless. She’ll get up any minute. She’ll want her milk. Where have you put the clean glasses?
 
MARIA
In my pocket. In my bed . . . Don’t you see I’m busy? Somebody has to clean up the place—right? (YANKEL tries to catch their eyes) You should pay more attention to the customers, Master.
 
BERISH
Don’t tell me what to do. You’re getting on my nerves. The customers are getting on my nerves. The whole world is getting on my nerves.
 
MARIA
Then you better get yourself another trade, Master. Better yet, get yourself another world.
 
BERISH
I’ll get myself another helper if you don’t stop this.
 
YANKEL
Leave her alone, innkeeper. Why don’t you listen to us instead? We’re waiting for you.
 
BERISH
Who are you?
 
YANKEL
His Majesty’s special emissaries . . . Who do you think we are? Don’t you have eyes? We are customers!
 
BERISH
What do you want?
 
YANKEL
Service.
 
BERISH
Service . . .
 
YANKEL
Does the word sound strange to you? We would like to order drinks,
 
BERISH
Drinks . . . (He emerges from his daze) All that people want is—drinks. (He places a bottle and three glasses on their table) One of these days I’m going to close up this place, I promise you that. I’ll sell it or burn it to the ground. And I’ll get out of here.
 
MARIA
Right.
 
BERISH
You don’t believe me? I’m telling you, I’ll go away.
 
MARIA
You’ll go away, you’ll go away. . . . Where would you go?
 
BERISH
Anywhere. To the end of the world.
 
MARIA
No farther?
 
YANKEL
(Laughs)
Bravo, woman! Wouldn’t you like to join us?
 
MARIA
Why—are you going to the end of the world, too?
 
YANKEL
No, we have just come from there,
 
MARIA
(To BERISH)
Where is the end of the world?
 
BERISH
I don’t know. . . . Yes, I do. The end of the world is where you’re not.
 
YANKEL
(To MARIA)
How do you manage to live under one roof with him?
 
MARIA
Mind your own business! He’s my master. If he feels like insulting me, let him!
 
YANKEL
(Mischieviously)
Wouldn’t you like to join us?
 
AVRÉMEL
The end of the world . . . I remember it well. In my village there was a small dusty street. An old witch lived in the last shack. The children were convinced that it was the end of the world.
 
BERISH
The end of the world, the end of the world. In my hometown we were told . . . I forgot what we were told.
 
MARIA
Forget it again, Master. You’ll feel better.
 
AVRÉMEL
The witch and her shack. People would be seen entering it—no one was ever seen leaving it. The children were scared even to look at it—to look at it from far away.
 
MARIA
Can’t you change the subject?
 
YANKEL
What’s wrong with this one?
 
MARIA
Change the subject. And change the inn too. You’re annoying us.
 
YANKEL
But we’ve said nothing. We would like to talk to you, innkeeper.
 
BERISH
I’ve got nothing to tell you.
 
YANKEL
How do you know?
 
AVRÉMEL
What if we asked you not to tell us anything but to listen to us while we tell you something?
 
BERISH
I’m not interested.
 
YANKEL
What do you mean, not interested? There must be something that interests you.
 
BERISH
Right! One thing: to see you get out.
 
YANKEL
All right, all right. We’ll leave. Afterwards.
 
BERISH
After what?
 
YANKEL
Have you forgotten that it’s Purim tonight? We must celebrate—have you forgotten how to celebrate?
“From the abyss of the death camps he has come as a messenger to mankind—not with a message of hate and revenge, but with one of brotherhood and atonement.”
—From the Citation for the 1986 Nobel Peace Prize
 
“Wiesel uses words to craft literary monuments, works that stand as acts of remembrance and as meditations on the nature of remembrance itself.”
San Francisco Chronicle
 
“Unquestionably, Wiesel is one of the most admirable, indeed indispensable, human beings now writing.”
Washington Post
 
“Not since Albert Camus has there been such an eloquent spokesman for man.”
The New York Review of Books
ELIE WIESEL was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986. The author of more than fifty internationally acclaimed works of fiction and nonfiction, he was Andrew W. Mellon Professor in the Humanities and University Professor at Boston University for forty years. Wiesel died in 2016. View titles by Elie Wiesel

About

The Trial of God (as it was held on February 25, 1649, in Shamgorod)
A Play by Elie Wiesel
Translated by Marion Wiesel
Introduction by Robert McAfee Brown
Afterword by Matthew Fox
 
Where is God when innocent human beings suffer? This drama lays bare the most vexing questions confronting the moral imagination.
 
Set in a Ukranian village in the year 1649, this haunting play takes place in the aftermath of a pogrom. Only two Jews, Berish the innkeeper and his daughter Hannah, have survived the brutal Cossack raids. When three itinerant actors arrive in town to perform a Purim play, Berish demands that they stage a mock trial of God instead, indicting Him for His silence in the face of evil. Berish, a latter-day Job, is ready to take on the role of prosecutor. But who will defend God? A mysterious stranger named Sam, who seems oddly familiar to everyone present, shows up just in time to volunteer.
 
The idea for this play came from an event that Elie Wiesel witnessed as a boy in Auschwitz: “Three rabbis—all erudite and pious men—decided one evening to indict God for allowing His children to be massacred. I remember: I was there, and I felt like crying. But there nobody cried.”
 
Inspired and challenged by this play, Christian theologians Robert McAfee Brown and Matthew Fox, in a new Introduction and Afterword, join Elie Wiesel in the search for faith in a world where God is silent.

Excerpt

As the curtain rises, MENDEL, AVRÉMEL and YANKEL are sitting at a table. MARIA is wiping off the chairs at another. BERISH comes in, running; he is annoyed.
 
BERISH
A glass, Maria. Hanna will get up any minutes, and she’ll be thirsty; and there is no glass in her room. I don’t understand, Maria—do you? I have glasses everywhere, for everybody; except for Hanna!
(He goes to a table to pick up a clean glass)
 
MARIA
You’re running, running, Master. You’re always running. Where to, Master? Where from? Why are you running? (BERISH stops; he is startled) Don’t you see we’ve got customers? Hanna is asleep. Leave her alone. When she gets up, I will be there to take care of her, as I always do. But the customers, Master, have you forgotten them? Do I have to do everything, see everything, be everywhere?
 
BERISH
Be quiet, Maria. Hanna is restless. She’ll get up any minute. She’ll want her milk. Where have you put the clean glasses?
 
MARIA
In my pocket. In my bed . . . Don’t you see I’m busy? Somebody has to clean up the place—right? (YANKEL tries to catch their eyes) You should pay more attention to the customers, Master.
 
BERISH
Don’t tell me what to do. You’re getting on my nerves. The customers are getting on my nerves. The whole world is getting on my nerves.
 
MARIA
Then you better get yourself another trade, Master. Better yet, get yourself another world.
 
BERISH
I’ll get myself another helper if you don’t stop this.
 
YANKEL
Leave her alone, innkeeper. Why don’t you listen to us instead? We’re waiting for you.
 
BERISH
Who are you?
 
YANKEL
His Majesty’s special emissaries . . . Who do you think we are? Don’t you have eyes? We are customers!
 
BERISH
What do you want?
 
YANKEL
Service.
 
BERISH
Service . . .
 
YANKEL
Does the word sound strange to you? We would like to order drinks,
 
BERISH
Drinks . . . (He emerges from his daze) All that people want is—drinks. (He places a bottle and three glasses on their table) One of these days I’m going to close up this place, I promise you that. I’ll sell it or burn it to the ground. And I’ll get out of here.
 
MARIA
Right.
 
BERISH
You don’t believe me? I’m telling you, I’ll go away.
 
MARIA
You’ll go away, you’ll go away. . . . Where would you go?
 
BERISH
Anywhere. To the end of the world.
 
MARIA
No farther?
 
YANKEL
(Laughs)
Bravo, woman! Wouldn’t you like to join us?
 
MARIA
Why—are you going to the end of the world, too?
 
YANKEL
No, we have just come from there,
 
MARIA
(To BERISH)
Where is the end of the world?
 
BERISH
I don’t know. . . . Yes, I do. The end of the world is where you’re not.
 
YANKEL
(To MARIA)
How do you manage to live under one roof with him?
 
MARIA
Mind your own business! He’s my master. If he feels like insulting me, let him!
 
YANKEL
(Mischieviously)
Wouldn’t you like to join us?
 
AVRÉMEL
The end of the world . . . I remember it well. In my village there was a small dusty street. An old witch lived in the last shack. The children were convinced that it was the end of the world.
 
BERISH
The end of the world, the end of the world. In my hometown we were told . . . I forgot what we were told.
 
MARIA
Forget it again, Master. You’ll feel better.
 
AVRÉMEL
The witch and her shack. People would be seen entering it—no one was ever seen leaving it. The children were scared even to look at it—to look at it from far away.
 
MARIA
Can’t you change the subject?
 
YANKEL
What’s wrong with this one?
 
MARIA
Change the subject. And change the inn too. You’re annoying us.
 
YANKEL
But we’ve said nothing. We would like to talk to you, innkeeper.
 
BERISH
I’ve got nothing to tell you.
 
YANKEL
How do you know?
 
AVRÉMEL
What if we asked you not to tell us anything but to listen to us while we tell you something?
 
BERISH
I’m not interested.
 
YANKEL
What do you mean, not interested? There must be something that interests you.
 
BERISH
Right! One thing: to see you get out.
 
YANKEL
All right, all right. We’ll leave. Afterwards.
 
BERISH
After what?
 
YANKEL
Have you forgotten that it’s Purim tonight? We must celebrate—have you forgotten how to celebrate?

Reviews

“From the abyss of the death camps he has come as a messenger to mankind—not with a message of hate and revenge, but with one of brotherhood and atonement.”
—From the Citation for the 1986 Nobel Peace Prize
 
“Wiesel uses words to craft literary monuments, works that stand as acts of remembrance and as meditations on the nature of remembrance itself.”
San Francisco Chronicle
 
“Unquestionably, Wiesel is one of the most admirable, indeed indispensable, human beings now writing.”
Washington Post
 
“Not since Albert Camus has there been such an eloquent spokesman for man.”
The New York Review of Books

Author

ELIE WIESEL was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986. The author of more than fifty internationally acclaimed works of fiction and nonfiction, he was Andrew W. Mellon Professor in the Humanities and University Professor at Boston University for forty years. Wiesel died in 2016. View titles by Elie Wiesel