Never Again

Today is International Holocaust Remembrance Day.

About 75 years ago, some 6 million Jews and others whose lives were declared to have no value were exterminated by Nazi Germany. In the decades since the tragedy now known as the Holocaust, “Never again!” has been the rallying cry. Today, less than 100,000 voices remain to testify to their personal experience of surviving these atrocities. Without effort and intentionality, our world stands in danger of allowing their memories to perish with them. 

Some years back, my pastors sat across their dinner table from an Israeli Messianic Jew, a friend of theirs, and discussed the legacy of the Holocaust. He asked them if they understood the significance of “Never again!” to the Jew, and they had to admit their ignorance. To them, it had always expressed the desire of all lovers of humanity to remember the lessons learned through the Holocaust, to honor the victims and the survivors. They agreed that we must commit to collective memory the shockwaves sent shuddering through the world by this season of manifest evil, so that it is never allowed to reoccur.

Their friend acknowledged all this was good and right. Yet he explained that, to him — a Jewish man — and to the Jewish people, “Never again!” meant something still more. It meant that never again would they stand by silently and allow themselves to be brutalized. Never again would they be so convinced of their own inhumanity that they would become voiceless and paralyzed, victims of a swaggering evil that could yet have been overcome, had they stood up and fought back. Would some still have lost their lives? Yes, undoubtedly. But masses more could have been protected, rescued, delivered … Never again!!!

Like many other well-meaning but detached observers, I struggle to relate to this intensely personal and passionate rallying cry. I read the books, listen to the accounts, watch the movies that have been made with a kind of horrified fascination. But if I am honest, I have to admit there is an air of unreality about it all. I feel removed, and at the same time, ashamed of my distance. It is so easy to stand on this side of history and scornfully judge those who allowed this abomination to run its course. Yet I wonder, and I fear: Would I have acted any differently?

Consider … the millions of everyday Germans, going about their daily activities … War and unrest were stirring in their land … unmarked cattle cars clattering by along their railroads … so-called “labor camps” being constructed in the nearby woods …

But they had errands to run, families to raise, discord to address in their workplaces and communities. A husband, out of work; a wife, struggling with depression; a child, ill with some unidentified malady … Who had the time or energy to deal with something bigger? We’ll keep our heads down, mind our own business, let God take care of the rest … but the demands of life pressed in, and, at best, they remembered to toss up a distracted prayer between daily tasks …

I will never truly know how I would have responded in the face of the Holocaust. I can only guess, and my best guesses leave me cold. I know how little I like to stand out in a crowd, and my distaste for rocking the boat. I know that I cringe at the thought of voicing unpopular views, conjuring up worst-case scenarios of ridicule and ostracism. Or what if I am simply … ignored?

This same virulent strain of evil stalks abroad in our land today. The same immoral cruelty that stole the lives of 6 million Jews and other scorned ones, determining them unworthy of existence, dares still to flaunt its power over the land of the free. It has crept in just as innocuously, claiming to promote the good of the many, while quietly disposing of the unwanted few. It has worn the cloak of science, of humanity, of rights and freedom and choice. It has slipped its hateful poison under our very noses, deadening our senses while it preys upon the weak with impunity.

If you have your finger pressed to the pulse of our nation, you can be in no doubt of this evil to which I refer. I — inspired by others with far more wisdom, authority, and eloquence — dare to liken the horrors of the Holocaust to the atrocities of abortion.

In both cases, those in power have determined the relative worth of a class of humanity — first the Jews, now the unborn — and found them lacking. In both cases, diabolically precise propaganda has been employed to manipulate public response. In both cases, the church has been superficially impacted, intentionally divided, and has largely looked the other way.

We cannot afford to look away any longer; our silence is our shame.

Do not confuse compassion with inaction, or blind rage with righteous anger. If our hearts are to bleed with the heart of God, our vision must encompass the good of both baby and mother. This includes the mother with a weighty decision before her, the mother with a painful regret behind her … even the militant mother, crusading shrilly for her own and others’ “rights” in an attempt to occupy the yawning emptiness inside. We must not let our love for the Truth deaden our compassion. Yet neither can our compassion for each precious soul paralyze us from speaking Truth in love, from standing firm against injustice. We can — we must — find room for both. 

And our outrage against this evil — this very slap in the face of the Creator of Life — must not deteriorate into mindless violence, a lashing out in word or deed against those we perceive to be His enemies. This fight is not against our political or ideological opponents, nor against those who have had or have supported abortions. As with any true spiritual battle, “[O]ur struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms,” (Eph. 6:12). If we are to truly pray, and speak, and act for LIFE, those prayers and words and actions must consider and communicate life for each mother, father, and child; all abortion clinic personnel and pro-choice sympathizers; every politician and policy maker on all sides of the issue. For we desire all to come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ, and to fullness of life in His transforming love.

Moving forward, I am prayerfully considering how to best use this space in the stand for life. I invite you to join your prayers with mine, that we might seek the wisdom and direction of the One who has called us into His wonderful Light. The Holocaust must happen never again. Yet as deplorable as was the loss of those 6 million lives, the death toll through abortion has already surpassed that number. History has not been kind to those who stood by, silent and uninvolved, as millions of innocents were slaughtered. 

We must learn from their tragic example: never again!