
After reading Levi about forced conversions in Auschwitz, Smerdyakov's argument about a forced conversion comes vividly to mind. He describes a believer captured by infidels and tormented to renounce Christ: "But if precisely at that moment I tried all that, and deliberately cried to the mountain: "crush my tormentors" -- and it didn't crush them, then how, tell me, should I not doubt then, in such a terrible hour of great mortal fear? I'd know even without that that I wasn't going to reach the fullness of the Kingdom of Heaven . . . so why, on top of that, should I let myself be flayed to no purpose?" This Christian's prayer is to chance, and the house wins. This is how Dostoevsky bargains with god, until he loses a child. To see a little child suffer, that is to know faith. It is a true faith that wants to save not oneself, but another. We see Alyosha's superior faith when he is out-of-the-blue pelted with stones by a little child, and wonders, "what did I do?" and, recognizing that those stones have flown directly, like heavenly arrows, from the source of the child's suffering, "what can I do?"
Photo credit: 19th European roulette wheel from a Creede, Colorado historic museum-saloon once operated by Jesse James' assassin. Original source off-line.