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Ten thousand men had come to attend solemn service, heads of the blocks, Kapos,functionaries of death. "Bless the Eternal. "
The voice of the officiant had just made itself heard. I thought at first it was the wind.
"Blessed be the Name of the Eternal!"
Why, but why should I bless Him? in every fib er I rebelled. Because He had had thousands of children burned in His pits? Because He kept six crematories working night and day, on Sundays and feast days? Because in His great might He had created Auschwitz, Birkenau, Buna, and so many factories of death? How could I say to Him: "Blessed art thou, Eternal, Master of the Universe, Who chose us from among the races to be tortured day and night, to see our fathers, our mothers, our brothers, end in the crematory? Praised be Thy Holy Name, Thou Who hast chosen us to be butchered on Thine altar?"
I heard the voice of the officiant rising up, powerful yet at the same time broken, amid the tears, sobs, the sighs of the whole congregation:
"All the earth and the Universe are God's!"
He kept stopping every moment, as though he did not have the strenght to find the meaning beneath the words. The melody choked in his throat.
And I, mystic that I had been, I thought:
"Yes, man is very strong, greater than God. When You were deceived by Adam and Eve, You drove them out of the Paradise. When Noah's generation displeased You, You brought down the Flood. When Sodom no longer found favour in Your eyes, You made the sky rain down fire and sulphur. But these men here, whom You have betrayed, whom You have allowed to be tortured, butchered, gassed, burned, what do they do? They pray before You! They praise Your name!"
"All creation bears witness to the Greatness of God
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