6 May 2009

On the Journey

                     From the shadows—a call to live beyond fear!

              This past Saturday was not a particularly good day for me. Inside of me, there was a kind of restlessness. I felt agitated, but I could not put my finger on exactly what was goading me. As far as I could tell, this feeling of discontent did not arise from anything in my immediate surroundings. This feeling rose from a far deeper place within me. Somehow, I felt at odds with the world.

              I stumbled home about 1 o’clock. After muddling through lunch, I entered our den, grabbed the remote, flung myself into my recliner, and turned on the television. As the screen came to life, I recognized the opening scenes of Steven Spielberg’s 1993 film, Schindler’s List. As the film began, I was aware that part of me wanted to turn it off. My soul had already recognized the shadowy presence of depression. It seemed foolish to engage this story of fear, suffering, evil, and death. Yet, I could not escape the black-and-white images on the screen. Although I have seen the film several times,  I felt as if I were watching it for very first time. I watched with the eye of my soul.

              The film, Schindler’s List, is about Oscar Schindler, the man who saved 1,200 Jews from Hitler’s gas chambers during World War II. In the beginning, Oscar Schindler was a selfish and opportunistic industrialist. He was born into wealth. His family’s wealth was lost during the worldwide depression of the 1920s and 30s. He followed Hitler’s army into Poland, became a member of the Nazi Party, received ownership of an enamel factory, and secured military contracts. For his factory, he requested the cheapest laborers—Jews from the ghetto and the camps.

              Schindler drank heavily. He was a womanizer. Tirelessly he worked to secure the profits of war. Oscar spent the evenings socializing with the local SS and Wehrmacht officers building contacts and influence that would later enable him to save hundreds of his Jewish workers whom he called “my children.”

               After the Germans cleaned out the Jewish ghetto in Krakow, Oscar saw clearly Hitler’s plan for extermination of the Jews. The conditions of the concentration camps horrified him. By 1943, he began to see how many Jews he could save. He arranged for entire Jewish families to work in his factory. Through bribes, he succeeded in having his own camp for Jewish laborers built near his factory. He provided food and medical care for his workers. He slept every night in his factory to protect his workers during unannounced searches by the SS.

              Near the last scene of the film, Oscar looks at the car he is going to use to escape the advancing allied armies and wonders how many Jews he might have saved if he had sold the car. There is a ring on his finger—two more saved! In all, Oscar spent more than 4 million German marks saving his children. Despite his human failings, the Jews, whom he saved, declared him “righteous.”

              As the film credits rolled, tears came streaming down my face, and I choked back sobs. In my heart, I, too, loved this man, Oscar Schindler. Yet, in my mind, I could not fathom how he had found the courage to resist such cruelty and evil, risking his own life for his Jewish workers. I find that fear brings paralysis. In the face of frightening obstacles, I search for my voice and courage. For a long time now, I have known that my greatest sin is fear. Yet, in the days after Easter, I continue to hear my Risen Lord say, “Do not be afraid. In this life, you will have troubles, but I have overcome the world.”

              I have explored the shadows that descended upon my soul on Saturday. In the darkness was hidden a reality I did not want to acknowledge. The world remains a frightful place, seemingly lost in the power of evil. Across the earth, violence and hatred terrorize my brothers and sisters. Genocide continues to rage. Children die of starvation. Disease ravages whole nations. Orphans and widows struggle to survive. Most days I find that either I try to put these realities out of my mind or I attempt to convince myself that there is nothing I can do.

              I am aware that the Christian religion I have encountered across my living has been more consumed with being good than anything else. The Christian religion I have known would not be able to see beyond Oscar Schindler’s womanizing and drinking. It would not be able to affirm his sacrifice. Sometimes, I think I hear Jesus saying—You have concentrated on being moral, virtuous, and good, which you should not have neglected; but along the way, you have forgotten about mercy, justice, and love.

              Again, I realize that fear keeps whispering to us, insisting there is nothing we can do in the face of the evils of this world. We cannot feed all the hungry people. It is impossible to offer all the orphans of the world a bed in our homes. We are powerless to stop people from hating one another, from murdering one another. Fear inspires a paralyzing sense of helplessness and hopeless.

              Yet, as God’s children, we are not given a spirit of fear! As God’s children, we are called to make a difference in the world. When we come to the end of our earthly journey, I suspect we will all want to believe that we have made a difference in the world. If not the world, at least, we hope to have lifted some soul into the light of life and love. To make a difference, we must allow the presence of the Risen Christ and his love to remove all fear from our hearts. Then we will “lay down our lives” for others.

Let us pray: “Lord Jesus, fill us with courage empowering us to seek mercy and justice for all your children in the world. Amen.”jamie