It is impossible to think about the Holocaust. It is impossible not to think about it. Nothing in history equals the horror of it. There is no way to imagine it. There is no way to speak of it without diminishing it. Thousands upon thousands were taken away in Nazi Germany during World War II. They were gassed. Their corpses were burned. Many were old men. Many were small children. Many were women. They were charged with nothing except being Jews. In the end there were apparently something like six million of them who died, six thousand thousands.
Anyone who claims to believe in an all-powerful, all-loving God without taking into account this devastating evidence either that God is indifferent or powerless, or that there is no God at all, is playing games.
Anyone who claims to believe in the inevitable perfectibility of the human race without taking this into account is either a fool or a lunatic.
That many of the people who took part in the killings were professing Christians, not to mention many more who knew about the killings but did nothing to interfere, is a scandal the church of Christ perhaps does not deserve to survive.
For people who don't believe in God, suffering can be understood simply as part of the way the world works. The Holocaust isno more than an extreme example of the barbarities that human beings have been perpetrating on each other since the start. For people who do believe in God, it must remain always a dark and awful mystery.
If Love itself is really at the heart of all, how can such things happen? What do such things mean? The Old Testament speaks of the elusive figure of the Suffering Servant, who though "despised and rejected of men" and brutally misused, has nonetheless willingly "borne our griefs and carried our sorrows" and thereby won an extraordinary victory in which we all somehow share (Isaiah 52:13-53:12). The New Testament speaks of the cross, part of whose meaning is that even out of the worst the world can do, God is still able to bring about the best.
But all such explanations sound pale and inadequate before the gas chambers of Buchenwald and Ravensbruck, the ovens of Treblinka.
~originally published in Whistling in the Dark and later in Beyond Words