Auschwitz

I have been back from my Christmas travels for a few days now, and I have been struggling with how I can put the last few weeks into words. I have erased sentence after sentence because none of them come close to what I want to say. Halfway through my Christmas travels, I realized that something intangible felt different. I could see that God was using this time for something, but I was blind to what was occurring. Last night, I realized that part of what occurred is that Rome finally became home. The time spent away from Rome allowed me to miss it, to see that what was once foreign has become familiar and comfortable. Coupled with this has come a deep peace about where I am in my life and what I am working towards.

That being said, the first part of my trip that I want to talk about is my time in Auschwitz. When I first arrived, I was first struck by the utter incompatibility between the cold message over the gate and my Christian faith. It proclaims that "Work sets you free" while my heart shouts that only grace can give me the freedom I seek. The guide explained how the prisoners would march out to classical music every day as they went to "work" for freedom that only came with death. I can only imagine the utter irony and pain of being subjected to these great atrocities while listening to such beautiful music.

As we toured the various places in Auschwitz which was one of three camps, we were shown room after room filled with artifacts left from those who had been killed here; rooms full of glasses and prosthetic legs, shoes and suitcases, children's dolls and human hair. The shock of such chilling efficiency which wasted nothing. The hallway filled with pictures of men and women who died in this camp was equally chilling. This was the work camp, unlike the nearby death camps of Birkenau (Auschwitz II). Yet these poor souls lasted only a few months before they succumbed to the horrible conditions. Here a priest shot to death, there a gypsy worked to death, here another prisoner beat to death. All equal, sharing the same tragic fate. Some lasted several months while others died within weeks. I was moved by seeing the Starvation Cell where Saint Maximillian Kolby died. In reprisal for attacks by some prisoners, several other prisoners were chosen to be starved to death as an example. When one of the chosen prisoners cried out, Maximillian Kolby offered himself in his place. Maximillian wanted to make sure that those who were dying were prepared to meet God. Witnesses say that they would hear Maximillian leading the other condemned prisoners in songs as they waited to die. After two weeks, everyone was dead but Kolby. In the end, the Nazi doctors gave him a lethal injection because he was not dying fast enough for them. This reminded me a Vatican exhibit I saw in Houston many years ago. Amidst all of the beautiful chalices was an old tin cup and a piece of aluminum bent to form a small plate. These were the chalice and the paten used by Maximillian during his time in Auschwitz. Somehow the Vatican obtained it, and the Pope used it in turn to celebrate mass in his memory. Amazingly enough, the man who Maximiliian replaced survived the war, and was present at his canonization.

We took the short bus ride over to Birkenau, and I was shocked by the immense size of the prison camp. Buildings and fireplaces and chain link fences and guard towers stretched as far as the eye could see. The sad part was that most people who came to Birkenau never made it to these shelters. Only the chosen few were allowed to work to their deaths, most were sent straight to the gas chambers. As I wandered these grounds where sinners mingled with saints, I could not help but wonder who I would have been. Would I be like Maximillian who was sustained by faith and hope of future glory, or would I give into despair. How many beacons of hope walked through these camps sustaining the faiths of those sent here to die?

Yet I also had to wonder how anyone could have taken part in this Holocaust. What motivated those who took part in the slaughter on innocents? Did the war machine make them lose their conscience? I know this can't be true. One of their last acts before abandoning Birkenau was destroying the Crematoriums. They knew that what they were doing was wrong. I'm sure that the reasons were as diverse as the people who participated. Some did it out of hate, others out of fear, while others did not have the courage to say no to what had already begun. Some conducted inhumane experiments under the guise of altruistic motives while they were only giving reign to curiosity without the bounds of morality. What would I have done? Where would I have stood? It is easy to say that I would never take part in something like that, but how many of us have given into hate in our lives. How many of us have judged others because of their race or creed or economic status or sexual preference or disability? The Holocaust shows us what happens when these hatreds and prejudices are given free reign. They used every single one of these categories to choose who deserved to die.

I can hear the response now, "But we would never be stupid enough to let that happen again!" Yet our generation has seen genocides throughout Africa and many other places. Our generation has allowed the Silent Holocaust of Abortion continue unabated for far too long. Our generation has allowed science to tread onto areas deemed unthinkable years before in the name of common good. Have we truly learned out lesson as we allow travesties against human rights to continue in our own country and throughout the entire world?