Auschwitz-Birkenau

Silence and No-Words should be the word today. Lots of empty spaces.  So, a poor poem.

Incompletion in Oscweicim

Perception
Deception
Regulation
Explanation
Evasion
Oration
Vindication

Humiliation
Beration
Interruption
Isolation
Emigration
Irresolution
Inaction
Construction
Exhaustion
Destruction
Ruination

Privation
Ration
Elimination
Cremation
Eradication
Extermination

Liberation

Aryanation
Anynation
Imagination

Czech Republic series: First Day in Cesky-Tesin

Tuesday September 15. Prague --> Cesky-Tesin.

"I am tired, forgive me, of hearing about Holocaust Stories." As we travelled to Csesky Tesin, at a McDonalds, the topic again was that of Jews, Jewish history, Nazi Holocaust, and etc. “Did you happen to see, Walter, the video about the woman who saved so many Jews during the Holocaust?”

“Forgive me for appearing insensitive,” Walter began, “but I have seen enough of such things. I do not doubt their veracity, but they do not affect me. When I get emotional, it's when I talk about my father.”

Later that afternoon, we heard about his father. Now, in Cesky-Tesin, we spent a long late-afternoon walking about this small town, stopping every once in a while, to hear a “Walter-Story” about what happened in that place, in this house. We found out what was still there, and what was missing. We heard about how everything changed for his family once Goebbels had a gathering in the town square … people who were used to being friendly to “Dr. Ziffer” and his family could no longer look them square in the eyes.

The house in which Walter came to live when he was two days old is “the last house before you get to Poland,” beside the river bridge, across which one can walk undeterred to Poland.

One Chain of Unbelievable Stories
The evening meal at the restaurant turned into a marathon story-fest by Walter of his experiences in some of the seven camps. The theme was luck, prosaic as it might sound. Through a remarkable sequence of luck, Walter is here. Any of a numerous string of incidents could have been the interrupting factor that led to his being elsewhere than right here in this hotel with us.

In one story, he was on a train, and a guard came in asking if anyone knew how to play chess. Walter raised his hand, alone in all the car who did. He was led to the General’s car, and told to play him in chess. During the match, his car was evacuated, the occupants going to who knows where, and probably their death. By him staying with the general, playing chess, he survived.

He wrote down this story once, and sent it in to Reader’s Digest. They wrote back, saying that they get lots of stories like this, but have a policy whereby they don’t print such unbelievable stories.

Czech Republic series: "Sleeping in Dust"

Sleeping in Dust –

Monday, September 14 was rainy at first, then cloudy the rest of the day. Walter’s nephew Risha had a full day of Jewish history for us to witness. Folks like us can purchase a single ticket for entrance into about 7 different sites.

We began, however, at the main Wenceslas Square. John Hus’ statue dominates the plaza. One of the famous clocks – part of an old church – commands the tourists’ attention at the top of the hour.          

From the two small windows at the top of the top time-measurement circle, a succession of church history personages – puppets on a conveyer of some sort – appeared for about 50 seconds. 

They we went to the historic Jewish area. Each place had strict signs and attendants to enforce their message: no video. The Meisel Synagogue, the utterly fascinating Jewish cemetery, the building housing the cemetery accoutrements required for burial, the Old-New Synagogue (oldest in Europe), a museum chronicling the life-cycle and the holy days (Sabbath to Rosh-Hashanah), the Holocaust Memorial (a building in the form of a synagogue, with all the names of the Czechs, by region, killed in the Holocaust. Lots of people tearing up here. Then, at last, the thrillingly beautiful Spanish Synagogue, with tiles and art work in the Moorish fashion.

It was the cemetery that most fascinated me. Thousands of grave markers, not a single one straight up and down, and always cheek-by-jowl next to each other, posed the question to the unsuspecting visitor: “How do so many people get buried in such a situation? I mean, there are sometimes ten stones marking graves where in the USA there would be one.”

Walter explained it thus: in each era a person would be buried and a marker erected. In the next era, when the cemetery would seem “full”, either there was more soil and more was brought in, to make a second layer. The stone markers from the first were raised to the new ground level. And so on … 7 times. Perhaps 60,000 persons were buried thus, sleeping in dust, awaiting their resurrection. To tamper with any of the burial rituals might mean their chances on the Day of Resurrection might be diminished.

Lunch at The Colonial Café, where we met Bob Deutsch and his brother Morris. Bob lives in Asheville and Morris in Washington. Both are attorneys.

Then we circled back to the Wenceslas Square and some of the constricted side streets, to the John Hus Church, and back home to a meal at our hotel.

Walter, his nephew and wife, and I sat together for 2.5 hours, exchanging stories, and then I was happy to go horizontal.

Czech Republic series: "A Day in Prague"

Arrival in Prague – The best two things not to do when traveling overseas is not to give in: not to your first money-changer, and not to sleep. I made the first a mistake, and the second a success, though the pace of the first day has me a cold.

Walter’s nephew and his spouse met us at the airport, and we taxied to the hotel half-way between the city center and the airport. The hotel – Krystal – used to be a university dorm; half of it remains so. Our rooms reminded us more of college days than the Holiday Inn. $40.00 per person per night, it comes out.

We met Walter’s ex-brother-in-law, also at the hotel, and then the six of us walked to the bus stop and rode a bus and then a subway into the city center.

Oh, the walking we did. The more I could do of it, the less tired I felt. When we stopped, I could sleep almost standing up. Our walking tour wound through new parts, old parts, and extra old parts.

The part of Prague (Praha in localese) I most wanted to see was the Charles Bridge. A few years ago Walter had preached at my church, and used a picture of a Christ figure from this bridge, a figure often questioned as to what-the-hey’s going on here. They say, “Wasn’t Christ a Christian?”

The Charles Bridge was completely covered in tourists. It is not a car-traffic bridge. However, adding to the thousands of people, several lanes were sectioned off for reconstruction. Huskers selling gim-gaws, art, and caricatures, performing music and tricks, begged the ever-slow moving river of people on the bridge to slow down yet more.

From there, a wonderful meal at the Casanova Café – Italian. As the conversation lagged, so did my eyes close!

Then up to the castle … ever-tightening streets, 20-30-degree angles, the tourist trade in full swing in the old houses. An old church with perhaps the most colorful stained glass I’d ever seen:

Long walk cut short: Back to the hotel for an 11 hour sleep.

Thanks for reading!

Czech Republic series: "Can I Buy A Vowel?"

AVL -->MUNICH  -->PRAHA -->CESKY TESIN

Strč prst skrz krk, or “Can I buy a vowel?”

As we took off from Asheville, I took hold of Walter’s hand, shook it, and savored the moment. This trip is long in planning, audacious in scale and energy, and sponsored by others (Mars Hill College and others).

Arrived in Prague from Munich (from Atlanta, from Asheville) at 10:00 AM Sunday morning. We were the last two people on the plane in Munich … it was that close. Good flights, thanks to Ambien!

I had forgotten I’d order special vegetarian meals, and for the first time ever, the airline actually delivered. This meant that for dinner and for breakfast, I was served first!

The hotel is half-way between Prague and the airport. The Krystal is a dorm/pension styled place. Walter’s nephew Risa and his wife met us at the airport. We caught obvious manifestations (infestations?) of McDonalds and KFC on the way in.

The title of this piece comes from the often severe lack of vowels in the already-difficult-to-pronounce words. Strč prst skrz krk = “Stick your finger through your neck”. Don’t think this trip will be one for working on the language thingie.

Czech Republic Report

Later this week, I shall accompany a Holocaust survivor on his return trip to his hometown on the Polish-Czech border, where he will speak at a Reconciliation Conference. That Conference is produced by the Christian churches in town, and headed up by an Assembly of God pastor. I'll be preaching at his church.

We'll also be taking in the sights of Prague and visiting Auschwitz.

Look for regular postings here.

Lessons in How Really to Take God's Name in Vain

Keep using my name in vain, I'll make rush hour longer.
– (Highway billboard ascribing authorship to God)

If I say “God” and “damn” together, have I taken God’s name in vain? Or just demonstrated poor taste? Most think this Third Commandment is to keep God's family name from being “damn” Growing up in Southern religion, that combo is hard to hear, and remains impossible for me to say.

But is this what it really means? What does two rather arbitrary sounds put together in Asheville in 2009 have to do with what Moses actually heard on Mt. Sinai? The first place to go (which most don't do) is to Sinai, to try to hear what Moses heard. Hard, as it is necessary.

Ancient Israel respected the name. The four letters forming their spelling of God's name were so sacred that they never wrote them out, and assigned them a completely different sound than the letters would suggest. God’s name was so holy that to write or to pronounce it was spiritually risky business. Whenever “God” was spoken or thought of, one couldn’t slouch or muddle through it. Instead, one had to be alert, be on best behavior and use the best possible thoughts. Since all talk and thought about God is incomplete at best, or misunderstood or even wrong, this commandment points us toward humility.

God-language, the thinking went, must remain holy, expensive, and not subject to literary inflation. Invoking the divine name as an aid to cursing is not what is going on here. Cursing is merely socially unacceptable language; it changes over the generations. It is cultural, not religious. Putting the “G” and the “D” words together only introduces how to take God’s name in vain. It is much, much more than mere impolite language.

It also means using God-language without thinking, such as mindless repetitions of “Praise the Lord,” and “I swear to God,” and other phrases, or praying the same prayer over and over again without it meaning anything.

Most importantly, the Third Commandment warns against passing off our causes, prejudices, crusades and passions as God’s will. As if God gets angry and happy at the same things I get angry and happy about.

When a parent, politician or religious person uses the name of God to get what he/she wants, that is offensive, and takes the name of God in vain. Examples: calling a war a holy crusade, blessing policies that divide people with references to God, or using one’s association with God as a ticket to public office, power or to greater acceptability. Let me be clear. The following take God’s name in vain much more than putting two little words together:

• When a religious person uses God as backup for inhuman theology (e.g., denial of civil rights).
• When a president justifies his wars and policies using God or biblical language, policies which result in hate, killing and anti-life actions.
• When a Supreme Court justice nominee is advised to parade her Evangelical faith to make her more acceptable.
• When a parent invokes “God’s gonna’ get you” as part of the disciplining process.
and let me get controversial ...
• The “Jesus Fish” on advertisements as a means to gain new business.

Substitution of self for God’s will is what the Commandment is all about. It’s about power, ethics and money. This Commandment questions our true intentions when we seek to bless our vain ploys by stealing (another Commandment!) God’s name. I think, in all humility, that God damns that.