Irredeemable

I picked up a novel recently by an author I know.  She's not quite a favorite, but I know that her plot lines are good.  I am drawn to stories that struggle with guilt, forgiveness, and redemption, and that's what the book promised to be about.  What none of the reviews mentioned, and what I never suspected when the book opened in modern day New Hampshire, is that it's also about the Holocaust.  When I saw the Polish ghetto coming into focus again, I almost put the book down.  I have read the required books, the graphic books, and the contemplative books. I've seen the movies.  I have been to the Holocaust Museum in DC, twice, and listened to survivors talk on several occasions.  In all honesty, I think I've had enough information to keep me processing it for a lifetime.

Truly, I think it is one of the hardest things to process, and the question, "Where was God?" comes so naturally.  We know where he wasn't.  He wasn't asleep.  He wasn't busy, inattentive, stupefied or powerless.  He wasn't indifferent to the horror.  He also wasn't judging the world, or the Jews, or the Germans; not yet.

I'm still reading.  The characters have struggled with some compelling questions:  Who has the authority to forgive?  Does a victim's family member have more authority than others, unrelated?  And if she forgives, does she betray once and for all the justice due to those who suffered most?  Knowing as she does her own heart and history, can she separate herself in any qualitative way from the guilty?  What is in our hearts, and can people ever really change?  I am curious to see how the author will resolve these questions, if she is brave enough to try.

It brings into focus again the beauty and centrality of the gospel.  Justice and mercy, no longer competing, but in abundance.  We feel keenly that all of us are victims, and all of us are perpetrators.  The gospel affirms what our hearts know, and also tells us what to do with it:  The command to forgive.  The promise of vengeance that frees us from seeking it.  The offer of redemption, not through good works, but to good works.  The power to change.

I remember how Jesus spent his life healing, restoring life, as the proof, he said, that he was the one with authority to forgive.  I remember his power seen in the lives of others he has changed, like Betsie and Corrie ten Boom, who endured Ravensbruck for protecting Jews.  One lived, and one died, but they both praised the nearness and mercy of Jesus in their suffering, and they both forgave.  They are among that great crowd of witnesses, urging us on.  

So where was God?  I can't pretend to know his reasoning in allowing the atrocities of the Holocaust, or to have the wisdom to understand a situation that I struggle even to imagine.  But I know he was there, and I know he has the power to redeem the irredeemable.  At those times when I wonder whether I or my children will ever face anything so terrible, I look at Christ.  I remember that he faced these things before - betrayal, separation from his father, cruel torture, unjust death.  And now we call that day "Good Friday." Because it was.