The political theology of Johann Baptist Metz was a clarion call for theologians to foreground the social and political dimensions of Christian life. The work of Metz, a German Catholic priest and theologian of the 20th century, continues to inspire theological projects that explore the mystical and political nature of being a follower of Christ. Here, I will argue for an additional reason for ongoing interest in Metz, namely, as a theologian who can offer a robust response to Elie Wiesel’s charge that theology cannot go on after the Holocaust. I argue that Wiesel, a Romanian-born Holocaust survivor and writer, offers a roadmap for the future of theology after the Shoah, and, further, that Metz provides a style of theology that fits the criteria outlined by Wiesel.
To understand Wiesel’s challenge to theology, one first must understand the challenge Wiesel believes faces anyone speaking about the Holocaust. Wiesel envisions the Holocaust as a phenomenon distinct from all other phenomena, a nearly inexpressible event. He writes, “Auschwitz is something else, always something else. It is a universe outside the universe, a creation that exists parallel to creation.” As a result, language is inert to convey its reality. In From the Kingdom of Memory: Reminiscences, he writes, “Formerly, thoughts became experiences and experiences became words, but today this process is interrupted . . . And all the discourse on the ‘lessons’ of Auschwitz and the ‘message’ of Treblinka—lessons about ethics and politics, messages to do with theology—have nothing to do with the experience of Night.” By “night,” Wiesel refers to the experience of Holocaust imprisonment.
In an interview towards the end of the 20th century, Wiesel speaks at length about the future of theology after the Holocaust. At one point, he puts it simply, “There can be no theology after Auschwitz, and no theology whatsoever about Auschwitz. For whatever we do we are lost; whatsoever we say is inadequate. One can never understand the event with God; one cannot understand the event without God. Theology? The logos of God? Who am I to explain God? Some people try. I think that they fail. Nonetheless, it is their right to attempt it. After Auschwitz everything is an attempt.”
Despite the inability to speak, Wiesel argues across his works that the survivor has an imperative to speak about it, to denounce it and future injustices. In an essay titled “Why I Write?,” Wiesel asks, “Could the reader be brought to the other side? I knew the answer had to be No, and yet I also knew that No had to become Yes. This was the wish, the last will of the dead. One had to shatter the wall encasing the darkest truth, and give it a name.”
Though Wiesel criticizes speech intended to explain or assuage the horror of Auschwitz, insisting on the ineffability of the event, he did speak and write extensively so that both the victims would not be forgotten and future catastrophes could be avoided. All of this suggests that some form of dialogue and questioning can and must be undertaken after Auschwitz. All of this, I argue, provides an opening for respectfully discerning how to go forward in speaking about God and suffering. What criteria does Wiesel offer? I argue that across his writings, Wiesel offers the following vision: theology after the Holocaust should (1) be conducted in a manner that attends to the experiences of those who endured it and honors their imperative and priority to speak about it, (2) not avoid troubling questions about God’s permission of suffering, (3) give space to a form of faithfulness that does not exclude lamentations directed towards God, and (4) recognize the tension to be held between despair and rejecting despair. At this point, we can ask: are there theologians whose work is characterized by this vision?
The German theologian, Johann Baptist Metz, I argue, offers a way to do theology in the wake of the Shoah, and more broadly, after other catastrophic events, in a manner that Wiesel would find acceptable. Metz’s theology developed through engagement with the Frankfurt school, the thought of Karl Marx, and trends in European theology of the 20th century.
How does Metz respond to Wiesel’s concerns? First, Metz’s critique of the Enlightenment can expand upon Wiesel’s analysis of the origins of the Holocaust, which Wiesel claims had its roots in a variety of forces, cosmic, cultural, and explicitly religious. As part of his oeuvre, Metz developed a critique of the Enlightenment insofar as it created an expectation of history as an uninterrupted unfolding of progress, in which tragic events that didn’t fit the narrative went ignored. Metz traced vices to Enlightenment conceptions of history and freedom. Some of Wiesel’s reflections echo Metz’s concern that the Enlightenment-formed subject suffers from an inability to sympathize and hence hope or take action. Ultimately, Metz, in concert with the Frankfurt school, can offer an extended account of the origins of the “rationalism” and “indifference” that Wiesel says facilitated the Holocaust.
Additionally, Metz proposes a theology of prayer that can enact the moral transformation Wiesel considers essential. This theology of prayer is drawn from what Metz identifies as the “Israelite biblical paradigm,” which combines what Metz considers to be several neglected elements of Christian theology. First, we need to value memories, especially narratives, as much as we value theory, as a source of theology and knowledge more broadly. Remembering should not simply be something we think but also characterize a way of acting. Secondly, in imitation of biblical Israel, we need to cultivate an acute awareness of suffering, which Metz calls a “poverty of spirit.” Finally, we need to practice a certain language of prayer, which Metz calls a “mysticism of suffering unto God.” Such mysticism can be found in Israel’s prayer traditions exemplified by passages from the Psalms, Job, Lamentations, and the prophetic books. Generally, this way of praying exudes the pain of suffering, avoids exaggerated affirmations of consolations, and accepts fear, mourning, and pain rather than repressing them.
Metz does not believe that this style of prayer leads to disbelief, but rather exhibits its own kind of faithfulness, as the one who prays turns only to God for consolation. He also believes such prayer has the power to combat Enlightenment-induced negligence of suffering and even force those who pray to reflect on their own complicity with evil. Finally, Metz believes prayer after the Holocaust is possible because even those who endured it prayed. By taking his lead from the victims, Metz skillfully navigates the various challenges and necessities Wiesel identifies when speaking about the Holocaust.
Further Reading
Duggan, Cait. “Theology of Prayer after Auschwitz: Elie Wiesel and Johann Baptist Metz in Conversation.” Journal of Interreligious Studies No. 39 (Summer 2024).
Johann Baptist Metz and Karl Rahner, The Courage to Pray, (New York: Crossroad, 1981).
About the author
Originally published by at eitw.nd.edu on March 01, 2025.