Another stop I made on my return trip from Russia and Germany was a visit to the site of Buchenwald, a Nazi concentration camp situated just a few miles from the quaint city of Weimar. To tell you the truth, I had a bit of trouble finding it. My impression was that the locals would like to pretend that Buchenwald never existed.
Weimar is the former cultural capital of Germany. Buchenwald was a notorious death camp. It is this stark juxtaposition of culture and cruelty that is the first of many ironies one confronts on a tour of Buchenwald.
Buchenwald was the first concentration camp built by the Germans prior to World War II and served as the prototype for scores of others such as Dachau, Treblinka and Auschwitz. Buchenwald is where the SS trained their prison guards and perfected their art of cruelty. It was at Buchenwald that the great Christian leader Dietrich Boenhoeffer was imprisoned in 1944. (He died there just two weeks before the camp was liberated by the US Army.) In fact, some 1,500 pastors were imprisoned and murdered by the SS at Buchenwald, simply because they had spoken out against the Nazi’s.
Buchenwald was reserved for the highly skilled. They arrived from other camps such as Auschwitz (where the healthy had been put to work and the very young, old and infirm had been sent to the gas chambers) destined to be worked to death or starved to death: fodder for the German war machine.
Built in 1937, the camp was used initially to confine political prisoners who posed a threat to the new National Socialist Party (NAZI). But soon after the beginning of World War II, Buchenwald increasingly was used to house “undesirables” from all over Europe, including Jews and Gypsies.
The camps in general also provided a means for personal enrichment – for the Nazis. As prisoners arrived, their possessions were taken and catalogued. It was never assumed that any prisoner would actually leave the camp and recover his possessions. The Nazi effort was partially funded through the death plunder amassed at Buchenwald and other camps.
Altogether, 51,000 people died in the six years Buchenwald was in operation. It housed 20,000-30,000 prisoners at a time. Prisoners worked in an armaments factory at the camp, and were rented out to factories and businesses (as portrayed in the movie Schindler’s List). Even though the camp’s primary mission was not execution but slave labor, the Nazis also carried out executions and medical experiments on thousands of Russian prisoners of war being held there. Nazi doctors injected the prisoners with various bacteria, viruses, hormones and other lethal elements to study how they reacted.
I was struck by how orderly and ordinary it all was. The camp was run with characteristic German efficiency: Neat rows of buildings, disciplined prisoners, productive projects.
The guards had their pressed uniforms and their shiny jackboots and their obvious esprit de corps. They even had a zoo for the staff and their families to enjoy. Every effort was made to give an impression of order and efficiency. But that carefully engineered impression hid a level of brutality that is virtually incomprehensible.
My first impression? The reality of Birchenwald and the other German death camps plainly illustrates that even the most perverse kind of wickedness can be made to look ordinary. After all, years of Nazi propaganda had convinced a generation of ordinary, generally “God-fearing” people that Jews and other “undesirables” were not really people like you and me: they were Untermensch: sub-human. The German public was trained to believe that Jews and others were social vermin who needed to be first controlled, then isolated, and eventually eradicated.
It is the same kind of mass training that has allowed abortion to become so commonplace; so orderly and so ordinary. When a pregnant woman is investigating her “choice,” the child she carries is simply referred to as a fetus, a product of conception, a mass of cells… and therefore destroying it is presented as no more wrong then smashing a bug on the sidewalk. The “procedure” is described in a strictly clinical fashion and performed by medical professionals using all the latest technology. What other “choice” is there?
Sure, a few extremists will still insist that we are killing babies; will point out that like bugs, babies have life and feelings. But such objections have been suffocated under the cloak of convenience. After all, both bugs and babies could ruin a young girl’s life! Today, over 35 years since Roe v. Wade, it all seems so… normal. One million, two million… 50 million abortions later, most of us have simply stopped counting. And caring.
The second impression I carried away from my visit to Buchenwald was how ordinary were the SS troops that ran it. While they killed by day, they bounced babies on their knees by night. They listened to fine music in the den, talked about the price of potatoes in the market with their wives, and slept peacefully in their beds at night. And though they boasted of their superiority, behind all the swagger and spit-polish, they were an undereducated, underachieving, and quite uninspiring collection of guys.
Buchenwald’s camp commander, Colonel Karl Koch, typified the SS troops in general: before joining the Nazi Party, he was a failed insurance salesman. Broke and without a future, his Nazi affiliation magically transformed him into one of the leaders of the Master Race. Koch even assembled photographs, intending to chronicle his “rise to power” for posterity. His ascendancy was short-lived, however: even the Nazi’s couldn’t stand him and eventually hung him for stealing.
As I viewed photographs of the camp, I studied the faces of the guards. It appeared that few could have been more than 18 years of age. I was struck by the likelihood that many hadn’t even kissed their first girl before they had killed their first man. (But the first killing must have been hard, for they quickly developed a very clever device that enabled them to shoot a man through his skull without having to look him in the eyes.)
What united these men was not ideology or intellect. They were bound by things much more feral: Pride, Power, Position, Possessions. In the early days of the SS, men from all walks of life sought admission into this elite corps. Women swooned as SS troops marched by in parade formation, their distinctive black uniforms adorned with dual lightning-bolt insignias and bright silver skulls. Those privileged to wear the SS uniform were the most superior of the superior race. And nobody messed with them. The very mention of the SS broadcast waves of fear.
As I pondered these dark facts, I was reminded of something Jesus once said:
‘For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.’ (Matthew 13:15)
The word translated calloused is pakh-oo'-no, and it means to make thick, to make fat; to make stupid (to render the soul dull or callous).
Jesus recognized something about us that we often fail to see in ourselves. We have an amazing and frightening capacity to adjust and adapt to anything, even murderous brutality. We can become so hardened through the repetition of an action, that we no longer feel any discomfort or pain when experiencing it. A tough callus grows over the heart and soul. Paul described it like this:
…you must no longer live as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their thinking. They are darkened in their understanding and separated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them due to the hardening of their hearts. Having lost all sensitivity, they have given themselves over to sensuality so as to indulge in every kind of impurity, with a continual lust for more. (Ephesians 4:17-19)
If you are a guitar player or a ditch digger, you probably view calluses as your friends. But stop playing regularly, and they will go away. In the same way, when we stop doing certain things, a new sensitivity returns to our lives.
Before I came to Christ, my heart and soul were covered with calluses. Hurts, insults, disappointment, betrayals, lies, thefts and the like had layered over my heart so that I was insensitive to much of what was right and wrong, good and evil. But when I came to Christ, he began my softening process by “commanding” me to stop doing certain things. I had trouble stopping, because I had come to trust in those behaviors. They felt normal, comfortable. But as I obeyed, I also began to soften. I started to see my actions as God sees them. I started to feel the hurt that others felt. And then I began to experience remorse, sorrow and deep regret over those things that had I done in what Paul described as “ignorance and unbelief” (1st Timothy 1:13). Not only did I no longer want to do those things, but also I grieved and sorrowed when I saw others doing them and suffering under them.
But it didn’t stop there. Even today I am being forced to look at thoughts and attitudes that have been comfortably packed into the inner places of my life. God has a way of bringing them to the surface… making them uncomfortable. Now I find myself praying that God would work deeply in my life; that he will make me more and more uncomfortable with those things that He is uncomfortable with.
So here’s my question for you: What calluses in your own life is God trying to soften? Let me give you hint. What do the people closest to you complain the most about in your behavior?
You see, you might just reject such criticism because you aren’t uncomfortable with what is being criticized. Maybe you simply don’t feel bad about these things because you have become hard – and insensitive to the Holy Spirit in that area of your life. Justifications, rationalizations, explanations… all have enabled you to disregard the criticism.
Granted, your critics might be wrong. They may be projecting their own issues on you. Or… just maybe, they have identified an atrocity that, just like the fresh-faced SS guards, you should never have become comfortable with. Something to think about, isn’t it?