Wow! Thank you for the prayers, they're powerful!
Dan's iPhone is once again working, after almost a week of being out of commission, and just hours after I post the prayer request. Concidence? I think not! Isn't it wonderful that our Father cares, even about the details?
I can't wait to share some of our other miracles this trip! God is so good!
Friday, October 12, 2007
Where's this "Group Lunch" Again?
Oh how things get lost in translation!
Today, Danny & I booked our reservation on a train from Barcelona to Madrid, Spain and had one of the funniest experiences of our trip thus far. I hope I can do it justice in the relation, but as I'm not so good at telling jokes, I doubt I will. Here it goes, anyway.
We stepped up to the ticket counter after waiting for an hour in line (one thing I hate about Spain is the lines!) and were greeted by a middle aged man who informed us that he "speak only little English" which is just fine with us (a little is much more than many people speak!). We request a reservation on the 13:30 train to Madrid and are informed that is full.
"Fine," we say, "we'll just take the later one." He asks if our Eurail pass is 2nd class, and we inform him that, no, it is 1st class. "Oh, then you can take train at 13:30, 1st class have room." Fablous! Then he goes on to inform us, "Snack served on train, and group lunch around the corner."
"Group lunch?" We ask, surprised. We'd never been in a train station where they gave us a group lunch, but then again, we'd never gotten a snack on the train before either. We ask him to clarify, "Where is this group lunch?" "Group LUNCH," with a great emphasis that I chalk up to his personality and points around the corner. We shrug, thank him, and take our tickets.
As we walk, we look at each other and figure that we might as well try the group lunch, if it is included. Anything to save a few bucks, right?
We walk around the corner and see a huge McDonalds, a few stores, but no signs for a "Group Lunch" anywhere. We wander about a bit, asking each other where a group lunch would be found. Finally we decide to give up, and spotting the Salsa Lounge for 1st Class passengers we figured we might as well go in there to inquire about the group lunch and have a seat.
Walking in, we head straight to the counter and ask the lady there about the group lunch. She looks at us, very confused and says that her English isn't very good... We show her our ticket and explain that the man at the ticket counter told us we could find a group lunch near by.
She points out that there is a snack on the train, but she is not aware of any group lunches. She graciously tells us we're welcome to the complimentary drinks and snacks that the lounge has to offer the 1st class passengers, and after a bit of a strange look at us, we leave.
We decide to sit down, have a drink, and decide what to do about our missing group lunch. Dan leaves me to watch the bags and goes out to look for the group lunch, or scout out other lunch possiblites.
While he is gone I mull over the situation, and suddenly it dawns on me what happened. Dan walks in to find me in fit of giggles at our sillyness. "Danny," I say laughing, "He said, Group LOUNGE not Group LUNCH." Dan looks at me, and starts cracking up. We both can't stop laughing at our miss hearing. We had spent 20 minutes or so looking for our phantom group lunch, while in the very lounge the man was referring to.
Dan & I kept coming up with more scenarios where we would have looked even more like stupid Americans, insisting on a group lunch where there was none, but now that I'm writing it down, it seems more like a "you had to be there" type of thing. Oh well.
Today, Danny & I booked our reservation on a train from Barcelona to Madrid, Spain and had one of the funniest experiences of our trip thus far. I hope I can do it justice in the relation, but as I'm not so good at telling jokes, I doubt I will. Here it goes, anyway.
We stepped up to the ticket counter after waiting for an hour in line (one thing I hate about Spain is the lines!) and were greeted by a middle aged man who informed us that he "speak only little English" which is just fine with us (a little is much more than many people speak!). We request a reservation on the 13:30 train to Madrid and are informed that is full.
"Fine," we say, "we'll just take the later one." He asks if our Eurail pass is 2nd class, and we inform him that, no, it is 1st class. "Oh, then you can take train at 13:30, 1st class have room." Fablous! Then he goes on to inform us, "Snack served on train, and group lunch around the corner."
"Group lunch?" We ask, surprised. We'd never been in a train station where they gave us a group lunch, but then again, we'd never gotten a snack on the train before either. We ask him to clarify, "Where is this group lunch?" "Group LUNCH," with a great emphasis that I chalk up to his personality and points around the corner. We shrug, thank him, and take our tickets.
As we walk, we look at each other and figure that we might as well try the group lunch, if it is included. Anything to save a few bucks, right?
We walk around the corner and see a huge McDonalds, a few stores, but no signs for a "Group Lunch" anywhere. We wander about a bit, asking each other where a group lunch would be found. Finally we decide to give up, and spotting the Salsa Lounge for 1st Class passengers we figured we might as well go in there to inquire about the group lunch and have a seat.
Walking in, we head straight to the counter and ask the lady there about the group lunch. She looks at us, very confused and says that her English isn't very good... We show her our ticket and explain that the man at the ticket counter told us we could find a group lunch near by.
She points out that there is a snack on the train, but she is not aware of any group lunches. She graciously tells us we're welcome to the complimentary drinks and snacks that the lounge has to offer the 1st class passengers, and after a bit of a strange look at us, we leave.
We decide to sit down, have a drink, and decide what to do about our missing group lunch. Dan leaves me to watch the bags and goes out to look for the group lunch, or scout out other lunch possiblites.
While he is gone I mull over the situation, and suddenly it dawns on me what happened. Dan walks in to find me in fit of giggles at our sillyness. "Danny," I say laughing, "He said, Group LOUNGE not Group LUNCH." Dan looks at me, and starts cracking up. We both can't stop laughing at our miss hearing. We had spent 20 minutes or so looking for our phantom group lunch, while in the very lounge the man was referring to.
Dan & I kept coming up with more scenarios where we would have looked even more like stupid Americans, insisting on a group lunch where there was none, but now that I'm writing it down, it seems more like a "you had to be there" type of thing. Oh well.
Prayer Requests: Updated As of 22:41 My Time (That's 4:41 PM Back in Indy...)
Dan & I are safely in Madrid, and were reflecting today how incredibly blessed we have been this trip. God's protection has been visible and amazing in some of the most stressful situations, and throughout the whole trip!
We have a few prayer requests:
1. Dan is sick. It is nothing serious, but he's got a pretty nasty cold, and could use prayer. It's no fun having a runny nose, sore throat, cough, and fatigue normally; however, compound that with going nonstop, traveling in cramped quarters, and a diet that is not my normal cooking (let's just say, it's hard to eat as heathy as we Ambroses do at home!) and it means that Dan is down a bit. So your prayers for his quick recovery would be appreciated greatly!
2. Dan's iPhone seems to be no longer working. It will still connect to WiFi networks, but cannot make or receive any calls. We're not positive if it is a problem with the phone itself, the network, or AT&T, but Dan's fiddling with the phone as we speak... Prayers he doesn't break it, wouldn't be out of place either ;) We are checking his voicemail via my phone, so at least he's not completely out of touch, but until we can solve the issue please understand that he is not reachable via phone. If you need to reach him, please call my (Katie's) phone. If you don't have the number, email us.
3. My headaches. Oy. Praise God that I haven't gotten any serious migraines since the Feast (and the one at the Feast was healed after being annointed and having hands layed on me, Praise God again!) however, my background headaches have been bad and really diminishing my energy levels, which is discouraging sometimes. Prayers for healing or at least relief would be appreciated!
And a HUGE praise report and news in the Ambrose family (an no, not a pregnancy announcement). Dan has an official start date for his new job, October 30th--with Ambassador Solutions as a lead developer/architect. God has had His hand in this from the beginning, and all glory to Him, His timing is perfect! Further, all of our benefits will start November 1st, so we won't have any lapse in benefits when we get back from Europe. God really works things out to the last detail!
Hopefully I can post more tonight, from the hotel. Sunday we're off to Africa! I can't tell you how much fun and how exciting this trip has been!
We have a few prayer requests:
1. Dan is sick. It is nothing serious, but he's got a pretty nasty cold, and could use prayer. It's no fun having a runny nose, sore throat, cough, and fatigue normally; however, compound that with going nonstop, traveling in cramped quarters, and a diet that is not my normal cooking (let's just say, it's hard to eat as heathy as we Ambroses do at home!) and it means that Dan is down a bit. So your prayers for his quick recovery would be appreciated greatly!
2. Dan's iPhone seems to be no longer working. It will still connect to WiFi networks, but cannot make or receive any calls. We're not positive if it is a problem with the phone itself, the network, or AT&T, but Dan's fiddling with the phone as we speak... Prayers he doesn't break it, wouldn't be out of place either ;) We are checking his voicemail via my phone, so at least he's not completely out of touch, but until we can solve the issue please understand that he is not reachable via phone. If you need to reach him, please call my (Katie's) phone. If you don't have the number, email us.
3. My headaches. Oy. Praise God that I haven't gotten any serious migraines since the Feast (and the one at the Feast was healed after being annointed and having hands layed on me, Praise God again!) however, my background headaches have been bad and really diminishing my energy levels, which is discouraging sometimes. Prayers for healing or at least relief would be appreciated!
And a HUGE praise report and news in the Ambrose family (an no, not a pregnancy announcement). Dan has an official start date for his new job, October 30th--with Ambassador Solutions as a lead developer/architect. God has had His hand in this from the beginning, and all glory to Him, His timing is perfect! Further, all of our benefits will start November 1st, so we won't have any lapse in benefits when we get back from Europe. God really works things out to the last detail!
Hopefully I can post more tonight, from the hotel. Sunday we're off to Africa! I can't tell you how much fun and how exciting this trip has been!
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Picture Post, Courtesy of My Dad's Camera
Just a few I stole off of Daddy's camera, MANY more to come when we can!
Dan & Katie at Lunch outside of the Coliseum in Rome, Italy
Coliseum in Rome, Italy
Mom, Dad, Dan & Katie in Rome, Italy (Overlook of Rome)
The Feast Group in Asissi, Italy
Dan & Katie at Dinner, in Rome, Italy
Dan & Katie at Lunch outside of the Coliseum in Rome, Italy
Coliseum in Rome, Italy
Mom, Dad, Dan & Katie in Rome, Italy (Overlook of Rome)
The Feast Group in Asissi, Italy
Dan & Katie at Dinner, in Rome, Italy
2 Posts In One Day... Are You Happy Now?!
Sorry for my absence the past week or so, things have been busy with the Feast of Tabernacles (our most amazing Feast ever, without a doubt!) and traveling. It's hard to take time out of our day to post, especially when they must be typed up on the iPhone!
We've been traveling with my wonderful parents the past few days, and Daddy has graciously let me use his laptop today/tonight, thus the new blog posts. If I don't post for a few more days, please understand we are okay. We'll check in when we can, but don't assume anything is wrong if it is a few days in between posts or contact.
Love to all.
We've been traveling with my wonderful parents the past few days, and Daddy has graciously let me use his laptop today/tonight, thus the new blog posts. If I don't post for a few more days, please understand we are okay. We'll check in when we can, but don't assume anything is wrong if it is a few days in between posts or contact.
Love to all.
Rainbow of Promise—Eye Contact with God
Daily I am aware of God’s listening ear. I have faith and assurance that when I speak, He can and does hear me. My prayers, while not always audibly answered are at least allowed to approach the throne of Grace—and are, scripture says, like sweet incense to my Heavenly Father. This is a source of comfort and confidence in my daily walk.
God, omniscient and omnipotent, sees and is aware of everything going on in His creation; even when He in His wisdom allows human nature to flourish and destroy.
I have faith in all these things, but it wasn’t until this Feast that I ever even considered making eye contact with my Creator.
Friday (September 27th) the brethren keeping the Feast in Perugia Italy, the capital of the region of Umbria, were traveling home from an amazing visit to Florence (which I hope to write about in another post). As we drove back to the hotel rehashing the days experiences and discussing among other things the rather dreary weather my attention was drawn to the window by the audible gasps across the aisle.
At once the entire group was “ohhing” and “ahhhing” at the spectacular and awe-inspiring sight we beheld. A vividly bright rainbow with the clearest delineation of color I have ever seen shone before us in a perfect arc, brightened further by the much fainter but still beautiful second rainbow hallowing the first.
For some time each of us clamored to get the best look possible, and endeavored to capture the sight on camera. Never before have I seen such vibrant colors in a rainbow, the orange glowed, the red burned, and for the first time in my life I saw the difference between blue and violet a rainbow. Breathtaking. Art.
After each of us had gotten, or at least attempted our pictures, the discussion turned to the significance of rainbows. The story of Noah came to mind almost instantly for all of us, and of the promise God made to mankind represented by the rainbow.
God’s faithfulness and fidelity is shown through the symbol of a rainbow. He has declared He will never again destroy the earth, and mankind, through a flood. He is true to His word.
Shelia, a lovely sister in Christ that I met this trip brought up that rainbows are especially significant to her, because of her reading of the flood story and God’s promise in Genesis 9.
Genesis 9:11-17 (emphasis mine)
11And I will establish my covenant with you; neither shall all flesh be cut off any more by the waters of a flood; neither shall there any more be a flood to destroy the earth. 12 And God said, This is the token of the covenant which I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for perpetual generations: 13 I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth. 14 And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud: 15 And I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh. 16 And the bow shall be in the cloud; and I will look upon it, that I may remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth. 17 And God said unto Noah, This is the token of the covenant, which I have established between me and all flesh that is upon the earth.
Some translations of verse 16 say that God will look into the rainbow and remember His promise. Every time He sets a rainbow in the sky, He looks down into it. Shelia called our attention to the fact that God was looking down into the rainbow above us right at that very moment, at the same time we were looking up into the very same rainbow.
I never realized it before, but gazing into a rainbow is the closest human experience to making eye contact with our Lord.
Though there is no proof, my heart tells me that God gave our group the gift of that amazing rainbow on Friday to remind us that He is gazing on us, watching us, looking out for us. His presence, and the presence of His blessed Holy Spirit was felt the entire Feast, by all of us, and I don’t think it is a far stretch to believe that God gave us a special reminder that He was with us, tabernacleing among us, if you will.
Rainbows are always beautiful; always a pleasure to see, but now they will have special significance to me, as a means of a different and deep connection with my Father.
God, omniscient and omnipotent, sees and is aware of everything going on in His creation; even when He in His wisdom allows human nature to flourish and destroy.
I have faith in all these things, but it wasn’t until this Feast that I ever even considered making eye contact with my Creator.
Friday (September 27th) the brethren keeping the Feast in Perugia Italy, the capital of the region of Umbria, were traveling home from an amazing visit to Florence (which I hope to write about in another post). As we drove back to the hotel rehashing the days experiences and discussing among other things the rather dreary weather my attention was drawn to the window by the audible gasps across the aisle.
At once the entire group was “ohhing” and “ahhhing” at the spectacular and awe-inspiring sight we beheld. A vividly bright rainbow with the clearest delineation of color I have ever seen shone before us in a perfect arc, brightened further by the much fainter but still beautiful second rainbow hallowing the first.
For some time each of us clamored to get the best look possible, and endeavored to capture the sight on camera. Never before have I seen such vibrant colors in a rainbow, the orange glowed, the red burned, and for the first time in my life I saw the difference between blue and violet a rainbow. Breathtaking. Art.
After each of us had gotten, or at least attempted our pictures, the discussion turned to the significance of rainbows. The story of Noah came to mind almost instantly for all of us, and of the promise God made to mankind represented by the rainbow.
God’s faithfulness and fidelity is shown through the symbol of a rainbow. He has declared He will never again destroy the earth, and mankind, through a flood. He is true to His word.
Shelia, a lovely sister in Christ that I met this trip brought up that rainbows are especially significant to her, because of her reading of the flood story and God’s promise in Genesis 9.
Genesis 9:11-17 (emphasis mine)
11And I will establish my covenant with you; neither shall all flesh be cut off any more by the waters of a flood; neither shall there any more be a flood to destroy the earth. 12 And God said, This is the token of the covenant which I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you, for perpetual generations: 13 I do set my bow in the cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me and the earth. 14 And it shall come to pass, when I bring a cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud: 15 And I will remember my covenant, which is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh; and the waters shall no more become a flood to destroy all flesh. 16 And the bow shall be in the cloud; and I will look upon it, that I may remember the everlasting covenant between God and every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth. 17 And God said unto Noah, This is the token of the covenant, which I have established between me and all flesh that is upon the earth.
Some translations of verse 16 say that God will look into the rainbow and remember His promise. Every time He sets a rainbow in the sky, He looks down into it. Shelia called our attention to the fact that God was looking down into the rainbow above us right at that very moment, at the same time we were looking up into the very same rainbow.
I never realized it before, but gazing into a rainbow is the closest human experience to making eye contact with our Lord.
Though there is no proof, my heart tells me that God gave our group the gift of that amazing rainbow on Friday to remind us that He is gazing on us, watching us, looking out for us. His presence, and the presence of His blessed Holy Spirit was felt the entire Feast, by all of us, and I don’t think it is a far stretch to believe that God gave us a special reminder that He was with us, tabernacleing among us, if you will.
Rainbows are always beautiful; always a pleasure to see, but now they will have special significance to me, as a means of a different and deep connection with my Father.
Auschwitz, September 23rd
All that is necessary for evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing —Edmund Burke
There are times we do things because they are important, not because they are pleasant. There are things we as individuals and a society must remember, teach about and never allow to leave the conscience of humanity.
The Holocaust, and atrocities committed during WWII are not enjoyable to think about. The horrors will make the most stoic mourn. The potential depth of human depravity is shocking to our sterilized perception of the world; but just because it is upsetting and admittedly unpleasant does not mean it is something we can afford to gloss over, or forget.
Those who forget history are condemned to repeat it. –George Santayana
That quote was emblazoned in marble and drew the immediate attention of all who walked by at the entrance to Auschwitz, the largest and most infamous concentration camp of the Nazis in WWII.
Dan steadied me, as I grasped his arm and set my gaze ahead. I was not looking forward to this trip. Most of our sightseeing thus far had been fun, interesting, exciting—pleasant. We both knew this leg of our journey would be none of those things. This was something we were doing because it was important, because those who died here deserved to be remembered; not because either of us wanted to subject ourselves to the unpleasant reality of the past. So much of our society is uncontaminated by inconvenient and disagreeable truth. We easily gloss over the appalling aspects of history, because it’s so much nicer to focus on victories and achievements of man, instead of the potential evils that lie in the depths of human nature.
World War 2 always held a special interest for Dan, as his grandfather fought on the battle fields of Brest, France, near Normandy. However, it was not the WWII buff that brought me to Auschwitz that warm day in September, but the Christian man who sincerely believed it to be his duty and privilege to memorialize and honor those who died at the concentration camp and extermination camp in Auschwitz.
I was not eager to go, but I understood the importance of seeing the site, and sharing what my heart took in there. I can’t give you a blow by blow description of our visit, chronicling it doesn’t seem to do justice to the hallowed ground Dan & I tread.
1,500,000 people, mainly Jews, were callously murdered on the acres of countryside in southern Poland that is now one of the largest memorials to both humanity and evil. I cannot fathom how I could document just our trip, so instead, please allow me to impart to you the most significant and lasting impressions I came away with, and tell you truth, as disgusting as it is, was, and will remain.
Auschwitz, originally built as a concentration camp for polish political prisoners would become, in the short 5 years it was active, the largest extermination camp enacting what the Nazis would term “the final solution”.
The main entrance to Auschwitz One (there are 3 main camps including Birkenau the extermination camp and approximately 5 smaller satellite camps encompassed in Auschwitz) is bannered with the notorious and ironic sign Arbeit Macht Frei, or Work Brings Freedom. The Iron Gate stands tall, but seems too frail to have engendered the terror it undoubtedly sparked in its inmates. Shadows of horror, which holds horror still. Rusted barbed wire fences two stories high that were once electrified stand at the end of the “kill zone”. Guard towers loom with ominous meaning. The entrance on this sunny day visibly darkens the mood of all those who pass through.
As our guide softly speaks, her words thickly accented and her features distinctly polish, she explains the origins of this camp, and succinctly states the reality of what happened here. One and a half million people; mostly Jews, but also political prisoners, Gypsies, homosexuals, people with disabilities, and anyone else the Nazis felt were not worthy of life were held against their will, forced to work for the cause which persecuted them, and irradiated at the whim of a psychotic dictator and his minions.
Nadia tells us of the public executions held on the square on which we stand. She explains that 141 people escaped from Auschwitz, in the entire time the camps existed. That is 0.000094%. Not good odds. Worse still, when you consider that for every escaped prisoner 20 people in the camp were executed through starvation as a form of enforcing "group responsibility". Imagine knowing that if you were able to escape you would be sentencing 20 people to death, quite a deterrent.
As we walked from building to building, each holding its own disgusting history we were greeted with pictures, taken by the Nazis themselves of starving people, women and children walking off to the gas chambers, children—twins usually—emaciated and in pain having experiments being performed on them and other atrocities so unspeakable it overwhelms.
We approach a cell block, on the outside like every other brick cell block, only this one is presented as a museum of artifacts from the prisoners. Prepared from our visit to the Holocaust museum in Washington D.C. we step over the threshold thinking we knew what to expect.
Even now, two full weeks later my stomach churns with dread as my mind relives the experience.
Efficiency. I can think of no other accurate description. The Nazis were evilly efficient.
Room by room we walk through what they had saved from their victims, for their profit. Every item taken from the prisoners, catalogued, separated, given to the officers or German citizens for their use. Disgusting, but nothing compared to the room filled with over 10 tons of human hair, shaved from prisoners and those executed (posthumously). 10 tons of hair, from men, women and children; saved and exported to factories to make cloth, some of which was exhibited.
Efficient. Utterly disgusting.
All of that hair put into perspective the mentality of the Nazis. They had so dehumanized their enemy that they were no longer able to see any of the victims, even the children, as anything but a nuisance that was unworthy of life and to be used for the most profit possible. The men working at Auschwitz had families, wives and children who they must have loved. Mothers and fathers they would help in their infirmity. Nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, grandparents—people they loved, respected, cherished. Yet, they were able to look at other human beings, their neighbors, and see nothing but cattle and a problem that they had the final solution to, extermination.
Auschwitz One has many other horrors (I can’t find many words expressive enough to accurately describe what was there and what had happened there), including their "death row" Block 11 and the wall were untold hundreds, perhaps more, were stripped, forced to kneel down, and shot through the back of the head. It held the cells where people were packed in, standing up, and starved to death, without even the ability to lie down in their distress. It holds the cell where a Catholic priest, knowing a man had a family on the outside volunteered to take this man’s place in forced starvation as the punishment for an escaped prisoner and sacrificed himself (this priest has since been sainted). Story after story our guide told us, of nobility in the face of depravity. Of despicable acts, and the victims who suffered no sin other than their heritage.
Leaving Auschwitz One we passed by commandant, Ruldolf Höss’s home, just outside the prison’s gate where the supervisor and director of the camp lived with his wife and 5 children—a stone’s throw from the only remaining gas chamber (the other 5 gas chambers and crematorium were bombed by the Nazis in hopes of covering their crimes at the end of the war). Again my mind reeled at the thought of a man and his family living comfortably and happily in the midst of mass murder.
We also passed by the gallows that the very same commandant was hanged from after he was found, two years after the war ended. Fittingly dying behind the gas chambers where he ordered thousands of others to death.
A bus took us the 3 kilometers to a second Auschwitz camp, Birkenau, the extermination camp. Walking in, Dan & I both were struck dumb by the sheer size of the camp. Cliché though it may sound, as far as the eye could see in every direction barrack after barrack stood. The men’s camp sectioned off from the infirmary camp, followed by the women’s camp, the children’s camp (complete with a kindergarten), the gypsy camp, and so on. A sign informs us that the bombed out building we are standing in front of is one of the five gas chambers and crematoriums contained in this mindboggling huge camp.
A picturesque wooded area with benches beckons us and as we sit a moment to rest our tired feet (we easily covered 5 miles in Auschwitz Birkenau alone) we read the sign explaining the area we relax in. This lovely wooded area, with a pond across the path, is where the Jews coming in on the cattle cars would wait, told that they were next in line to receive a shower and hot bowl of soup before being assigned their barracks. In reality they were waiting there for the gas chambers to empty, sometimes for over 12 hours, because there were too many Jews to exterminate at once. The gas chambers and crematorium was overwhelmed by the sheer numbers they were taking on as each cattle car arrived.
The pond has a sign in front of it, as well as tombstones, each in a different language. This pond marks the final resting place for untold thousands of people. It was one of the places the crematorium just behind the grove of trees dumped the ashes.
Each building, each ruin, every stone and pathway is a monument to the intricate, exacting, methodical and efficient wickedness of the Nazi régime.
When we reach the main memorial, behind the camp, fittingly at the end of the railroad track that brought so many to their doom my eyes are misted with tears, but the sheer enormity of it does not allow me to grieve in proportion. One death I can mourn. One thousand deaths, I can be shocked and horrified by. One and a half million murders, committed on the very soil on which I stand, I can’t even fathom. Six million Jews alone, murdered in 8 short years, how can I begin to wrap my mind around that?
The memorial is simple, but eloquent in its simplicity. Each tablet written in a different language, explaining the meaning of the site has small pebbles and rocks deliberately placed around the writing—none obscuring, but a mark of respect and a symbol of a citizen of that nation remembering and honoring what the memorial stands for. Dan & I walk around, hand in hand, silent and in reflection of the vastness, the potential—not for good, but for evil. Resolved to remember, to memorialize, to honor those who deserve honor and to recognize that this is human history, which must not be forgotten.
The Holocaust is not the only act of genocide in history, even in recent history. Rwanda was during both of our lifetimes, and Darfur is going on even now. Many other incidents deserve to be remembered, and those going on now must be acted on. It is easy to focus on the genocide of people who share our heritage. However, a human life is a human life, and the genocide in Africa is just as worthy of mourning and intervening in. Lord help us when we stand accountable before Him, and we say “but it didn’t happen in our area!”
There is a poem by Pastor Martin Niemöller which I think speaks volumes.
First They Came...
They came first for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Catholics,
and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant.
Then they came for me,
and by that time no one was left to speak up.
Never before have I been able to so passionately groan, "Thy Kingdom Come!" Seeing Auschwitz, and dwelling, just for a few hours on the recent history of mankind, and their absolute failure to prevent such an occurrence gives me such a yearning for God's intervention, and Jesus' triumphant return when He comes with a sword to right the wrongs, bring justice, and peace to this sinful earth. God, wise and just, merciful and loving will wipe away every tear and give every human the opportunity to love Him and become His son or daughter. Lord, thy Kingdom cannot come soon enough and thank you for being able to see the potential—this time for good—that is in mankind, despite our wicked and evil actions.
Glory be to God! He can make all things new, even this little part of Poland so marked by evil.
There are times we do things because they are important, not because they are pleasant. There are things we as individuals and a society must remember, teach about and never allow to leave the conscience of humanity.
The Holocaust, and atrocities committed during WWII are not enjoyable to think about. The horrors will make the most stoic mourn. The potential depth of human depravity is shocking to our sterilized perception of the world; but just because it is upsetting and admittedly unpleasant does not mean it is something we can afford to gloss over, or forget.
Those who forget history are condemned to repeat it. –George Santayana
That quote was emblazoned in marble and drew the immediate attention of all who walked by at the entrance to Auschwitz, the largest and most infamous concentration camp of the Nazis in WWII.
Dan steadied me, as I grasped his arm and set my gaze ahead. I was not looking forward to this trip. Most of our sightseeing thus far had been fun, interesting, exciting—pleasant. We both knew this leg of our journey would be none of those things. This was something we were doing because it was important, because those who died here deserved to be remembered; not because either of us wanted to subject ourselves to the unpleasant reality of the past. So much of our society is uncontaminated by inconvenient and disagreeable truth. We easily gloss over the appalling aspects of history, because it’s so much nicer to focus on victories and achievements of man, instead of the potential evils that lie in the depths of human nature.
World War 2 always held a special interest for Dan, as his grandfather fought on the battle fields of Brest, France, near Normandy. However, it was not the WWII buff that brought me to Auschwitz that warm day in September, but the Christian man who sincerely believed it to be his duty and privilege to memorialize and honor those who died at the concentration camp and extermination camp in Auschwitz.
I was not eager to go, but I understood the importance of seeing the site, and sharing what my heart took in there. I can’t give you a blow by blow description of our visit, chronicling it doesn’t seem to do justice to the hallowed ground Dan & I tread.
1,500,000 people, mainly Jews, were callously murdered on the acres of countryside in southern Poland that is now one of the largest memorials to both humanity and evil. I cannot fathom how I could document just our trip, so instead, please allow me to impart to you the most significant and lasting impressions I came away with, and tell you truth, as disgusting as it is, was, and will remain.
Auschwitz, originally built as a concentration camp for polish political prisoners would become, in the short 5 years it was active, the largest extermination camp enacting what the Nazis would term “the final solution”.
The main entrance to Auschwitz One (there are 3 main camps including Birkenau the extermination camp and approximately 5 smaller satellite camps encompassed in Auschwitz) is bannered with the notorious and ironic sign Arbeit Macht Frei, or Work Brings Freedom. The Iron Gate stands tall, but seems too frail to have engendered the terror it undoubtedly sparked in its inmates. Shadows of horror, which holds horror still. Rusted barbed wire fences two stories high that were once electrified stand at the end of the “kill zone”. Guard towers loom with ominous meaning. The entrance on this sunny day visibly darkens the mood of all those who pass through.
As our guide softly speaks, her words thickly accented and her features distinctly polish, she explains the origins of this camp, and succinctly states the reality of what happened here. One and a half million people; mostly Jews, but also political prisoners, Gypsies, homosexuals, people with disabilities, and anyone else the Nazis felt were not worthy of life were held against their will, forced to work for the cause which persecuted them, and irradiated at the whim of a psychotic dictator and his minions.
Nadia tells us of the public executions held on the square on which we stand. She explains that 141 people escaped from Auschwitz, in the entire time the camps existed. That is 0.000094%. Not good odds. Worse still, when you consider that for every escaped prisoner 20 people in the camp were executed through starvation as a form of enforcing "group responsibility". Imagine knowing that if you were able to escape you would be sentencing 20 people to death, quite a deterrent.
As we walked from building to building, each holding its own disgusting history we were greeted with pictures, taken by the Nazis themselves of starving people, women and children walking off to the gas chambers, children—twins usually—emaciated and in pain having experiments being performed on them and other atrocities so unspeakable it overwhelms.
We approach a cell block, on the outside like every other brick cell block, only this one is presented as a museum of artifacts from the prisoners. Prepared from our visit to the Holocaust museum in Washington D.C. we step over the threshold thinking we knew what to expect.
Even now, two full weeks later my stomach churns with dread as my mind relives the experience.
Efficiency. I can think of no other accurate description. The Nazis were evilly efficient.
Room by room we walk through what they had saved from their victims, for their profit. Every item taken from the prisoners, catalogued, separated, given to the officers or German citizens for their use. Disgusting, but nothing compared to the room filled with over 10 tons of human hair, shaved from prisoners and those executed (posthumously). 10 tons of hair, from men, women and children; saved and exported to factories to make cloth, some of which was exhibited.
Efficient. Utterly disgusting.
All of that hair put into perspective the mentality of the Nazis. They had so dehumanized their enemy that they were no longer able to see any of the victims, even the children, as anything but a nuisance that was unworthy of life and to be used for the most profit possible. The men working at Auschwitz had families, wives and children who they must have loved. Mothers and fathers they would help in their infirmity. Nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, grandparents—people they loved, respected, cherished. Yet, they were able to look at other human beings, their neighbors, and see nothing but cattle and a problem that they had the final solution to, extermination.
Auschwitz One has many other horrors (I can’t find many words expressive enough to accurately describe what was there and what had happened there), including their "death row" Block 11 and the wall were untold hundreds, perhaps more, were stripped, forced to kneel down, and shot through the back of the head. It held the cells where people were packed in, standing up, and starved to death, without even the ability to lie down in their distress. It holds the cell where a Catholic priest, knowing a man had a family on the outside volunteered to take this man’s place in forced starvation as the punishment for an escaped prisoner and sacrificed himself (this priest has since been sainted). Story after story our guide told us, of nobility in the face of depravity. Of despicable acts, and the victims who suffered no sin other than their heritage.
Leaving Auschwitz One we passed by commandant, Ruldolf Höss’s home, just outside the prison’s gate where the supervisor and director of the camp lived with his wife and 5 children—a stone’s throw from the only remaining gas chamber (the other 5 gas chambers and crematorium were bombed by the Nazis in hopes of covering their crimes at the end of the war). Again my mind reeled at the thought of a man and his family living comfortably and happily in the midst of mass murder.
We also passed by the gallows that the very same commandant was hanged from after he was found, two years after the war ended. Fittingly dying behind the gas chambers where he ordered thousands of others to death.
A bus took us the 3 kilometers to a second Auschwitz camp, Birkenau, the extermination camp. Walking in, Dan & I both were struck dumb by the sheer size of the camp. Cliché though it may sound, as far as the eye could see in every direction barrack after barrack stood. The men’s camp sectioned off from the infirmary camp, followed by the women’s camp, the children’s camp (complete with a kindergarten), the gypsy camp, and so on. A sign informs us that the bombed out building we are standing in front of is one of the five gas chambers and crematoriums contained in this mindboggling huge camp.
A picturesque wooded area with benches beckons us and as we sit a moment to rest our tired feet (we easily covered 5 miles in Auschwitz Birkenau alone) we read the sign explaining the area we relax in. This lovely wooded area, with a pond across the path, is where the Jews coming in on the cattle cars would wait, told that they were next in line to receive a shower and hot bowl of soup before being assigned their barracks. In reality they were waiting there for the gas chambers to empty, sometimes for over 12 hours, because there were too many Jews to exterminate at once. The gas chambers and crematorium was overwhelmed by the sheer numbers they were taking on as each cattle car arrived.
The pond has a sign in front of it, as well as tombstones, each in a different language. This pond marks the final resting place for untold thousands of people. It was one of the places the crematorium just behind the grove of trees dumped the ashes.
Each building, each ruin, every stone and pathway is a monument to the intricate, exacting, methodical and efficient wickedness of the Nazi régime.
When we reach the main memorial, behind the camp, fittingly at the end of the railroad track that brought so many to their doom my eyes are misted with tears, but the sheer enormity of it does not allow me to grieve in proportion. One death I can mourn. One thousand deaths, I can be shocked and horrified by. One and a half million murders, committed on the very soil on which I stand, I can’t even fathom. Six million Jews alone, murdered in 8 short years, how can I begin to wrap my mind around that?
The memorial is simple, but eloquent in its simplicity. Each tablet written in a different language, explaining the meaning of the site has small pebbles and rocks deliberately placed around the writing—none obscuring, but a mark of respect and a symbol of a citizen of that nation remembering and honoring what the memorial stands for. Dan & I walk around, hand in hand, silent and in reflection of the vastness, the potential—not for good, but for evil. Resolved to remember, to memorialize, to honor those who deserve honor and to recognize that this is human history, which must not be forgotten.
The Holocaust is not the only act of genocide in history, even in recent history. Rwanda was during both of our lifetimes, and Darfur is going on even now. Many other incidents deserve to be remembered, and those going on now must be acted on. It is easy to focus on the genocide of people who share our heritage. However, a human life is a human life, and the genocide in Africa is just as worthy of mourning and intervening in. Lord help us when we stand accountable before Him, and we say “but it didn’t happen in our area!”
There is a poem by Pastor Martin Niemöller which I think speaks volumes.
First They Came...
They came first for the Communists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Communist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Catholics,
and I didn't speak up because I was a Protestant.
Then they came for me,
and by that time no one was left to speak up.
Never before have I been able to so passionately groan, "Thy Kingdom Come!" Seeing Auschwitz, and dwelling, just for a few hours on the recent history of mankind, and their absolute failure to prevent such an occurrence gives me such a yearning for God's intervention, and Jesus' triumphant return when He comes with a sword to right the wrongs, bring justice, and peace to this sinful earth. God, wise and just, merciful and loving will wipe away every tear and give every human the opportunity to love Him and become His son or daughter. Lord, thy Kingdom cannot come soon enough and thank you for being able to see the potential—this time for good—that is in mankind, despite our wicked and evil actions.
Glory be to God! He can make all things new, even this little part of Poland so marked by evil.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
