To save life

When I was in Jr. High I became quite interested in the Holocaust. Looking back I think I was struggling to understand the world. I was coming to terms with the fact that this world is not safe place and that ordinary people can do truly horrific things. 

I think I was also trying to understand myself. As I read these horrifying stories, I was continually asking myself a question: Would I be willing to give my life for some one else?

Looking back I realize that answering this question became deeply intertwined with my faith exploration at this time. In my reading I discovered that there were many Christians that not only failed to act, but who also bought into Hitler’s program enthusiastically. People, who had defined Christianity so closely with their understanding of being a good citizen that they had become blinded to evil. 

I am 42 now and to some degree these questions still haunt me. I am less worried that I will be fooled into thinking that evil is good, but I also know that I am not a particularly brave person. This is part of the reason that I find the story of Le Chambon community to be so comforting. 

Le Chambon is a village in southern France where the entire village became involved in the rescue of Jews. Between 1940 and 1944, the village provided refuge for more than 5,000 people fleeing the Nazis. Here, normal farmers somehow found the bravery to hide Jewish children in their homes, to forge papers, and to sneak people over the borders at night.

There is a wonderful documentary on these events entitled “Weapons of the Spirit.” In it, one of the peasants is asked why they hid Jews. Her response always blows me a way: “we were used to it.” How does one habituate oneself so that they can act decisively and bravely when the time comes? How do we become used to being brave? In the case of the villagers of Le Chambon, many had been used to providing ordinary hospitality long before they were called on to provide extraordinary hospitality. When the time came: they were used to helping. 

It leaves me with an essential question: How do we live each day  in such a way that when the time comes saving a life is a natural act for us? 

In the third chapter of Mark, Jesus encounters a man in the synagogue with a shriveled hand. The Pharisees “were looking for a reason to accuse Jesus, so they watched him closely to see if he would heal him on the Sabbath.” Jesus asked the people assembled:“Which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill?” Then Jesus healed the man and the Pharisees went out and began to plot with the Herodians regarding how they might kill Jesus.

Jesus’ language is so intense in this passage: Which is lawful on the Sabbath: to do good or to do evil, to save life or to kill? Certainly, he is practicing hyperbole. Surely this man with a shriveled hand will not die if Jesus does not heal him on the Sabbath day. It seems like the shriveled hand is possibly a condition that the man has had from birth. Certainly he could wait one more day to be healed.

Most commentators have viewed Jesus’ action here —where he refused to wait just one more day— as a kind of visible, willful and blatant rejection of Jewish Law. Jesus goes out of his way to break the rules of Sabbath keeping! And yet I think it is important to recognize that Jesus was reasoning from a well established legal precedent: almost any law can be broken in order to save a life. 

What does “to save life mean?”

To this days Jews still debate this question. With some more conservative Jewish doctors insisting that any treatment that is necessary to maintain or save a life is lawful to provide on the Sabbath while more routine medical procedures should be avoided on the Sabbath day. Yet,other Jews interpret what it means to “save a life” more broadly—like Jesus does in this passage—and exempt health care workers from strict Sabbath observation. 

Which makes me think a bit more about what is really going on this passage.

Jesus certainly is challenging Jewish law as understood by his familial opponents here, but I think it is also important to see that Jesus is also participating in a conversation about what is at the heart of the law—at the heart of the law is a concern for fostering life, saving life, honoring life. Jesus insists on defining “preserving life” in the broadest possible way. This brings Jesus headlong into a battle with the forces that wield death in our world.

While the Pharisees see “saving a life” to be an extraordinary and rare exception. Jesus seems to be insisting that the decision to save life or to promote death might be a bit more mundane and commonplace than we generally think. That we would be surprised by how frequently we make choices that either promote life or promote death. There is also a glimmer of something else in Jesus action. Extravagance. The Pharisees questioning Jesus’ point is that the man can wait. That one more day won’t matter. Why be concerned if the man suffers just a little bit longer? Beggars can’t be choosers. And yet, Jesus doesn’t see it this way at all. For Jesus, one more day is just too long. And he is willing to risk the anger of these Pharisees (others were more friendly). He is willing to risk death. Because that is what happens. After these Pharisees observe this healing they begin to plot Jesus’ death. Jesus risk death just to give the man one more day of more abundant life.

When I was reading those books on the Holocaust as a teenager I was looking for an answer to the question: how do I become the kind of person who would risk my life to save another? I was hoping to find inspiration. I was hoping to find resolve. Perhaps, a theological insight. I think I would have been surprised to find that inspiration in people whose motives were so mundane That in the words of the women in this clip, it boils down to what they had become accustomed to. 

What were they used to?

The were used to taking in kids from the city for a few weeks so that they could breath fresh country air. 

Or used to taking in people who were sick.

They were used to practicing hospitality even when it was difficult. Even when it meant that the soup would be a bit watery or the bread would be cut a bit thin. For the people of Le Chambon, everyday acts of hospitality prepared them to offer extraordinary hospitality. For Jesus: laying down his life for others marked his whole ministry not just his final act of love and faithfulness on the cross.

When I was a kid I worried: what if I became like the Christians that supported the Nazis? It seems impossible doesn’t it? It seems impossible that countless Christians came to believe that the handicapped, the mentally ill, the Jews would have to die so that Germany could live. And yet, the nation was facing an unprecedented depression and a leader arose and offered to get the economy going again and to make the trains run on time. I look on in horror as Christians seems to be subtly captivated by a vision of economic good that would lead to the deaths of countless people. I look on in horror as Christian politicians worry that relief checks might provide some families MORE money than they usually get in the month. 

How do we prepare ourselves to stand up against the death cult that is rising in our midst? How do we stem this tide? We must, I believe, make the choice to foster and preserve life every single day. In every possible way that is available to us. 

There is a great line in The Last Jedi. One character thwarts another from making a kamikaze run and as she pulls him to safety she says: “we win not by destroying what he hate; we win by saving what we love.”

May our definition of saving life be expanded and not limited in this extraordinary time. May we fight tenaciously to save what we love.