"One may not be able to triumph over evil, but one need not remain silent in the face of it." -Smith Hempstone
Photograph: Me... after hours on an airplane.
March 04, 2009 4:00 a.m. (after our return from Poland)
Aboard our plane from Krakow to Frankfurt, there were thirty orthodox Jewish rabbis from New York City. Everyone in the group just looked at each other, then toward heaven, and thanked God for the opportunity. Patti made everyone laugh by saying, "Now I know the plane won't crash."
The rabbi Patti Sheets was sitting near, Jacob Schmidt, was very open to her questioning. He told her that his mother was a survivor of Auschwitz. He also told her about the fact that regular German citizens knew about conditions in the concentration camps, using the example of a young boy whose mother took him to the zoo in Berlin. When he saw the zebras, he said, "Look, mama, those zebras look like the Jews." It was marvelous chance to get the Jewish perspective on what we had been studying. Disembarking in Germany, each group agreed to pray for the others' safe return home, as we heard that there was a snowstorm moving down the east coast.
We had a five-hour layover in Frankfurt; it made for a long day. It was kind of neat to sit in that hub of activity and enjoy lunch, though. We got to see people from many countries. We even saw a pair of Tibetan monks, in their orange robes, with their staffs that somehow made it through security. I spent some time wondering about that...
Chris and Joanna both paid for a few minutes of internet access and updated their Facebook status; the Florida group was already home, so we got to see what some of them were up to. We missed them already, and we'd only been apart for a few hours!
Funny how God works like that! We knew that day that it was no coincidence that we ended up on the plane next to the most talkative rabbi in the bunch! It was a fairly short flight from Krakow to Frankfurt, so our communication skills from the Paris trip came in very handy. I smile. However, the day was not over yet, and God had much more in store... particularly for me!
We boarded the plane for Washington-Dulles and ended up sitting across the aisle from a very talkative young man (we'll call him Ian). He was full of questions! He asked us our names, where we'd been and why, how old we were, where we went to school, and what we wanted to do with our lives. As soon as he heard that I wanted to be a missionary, he began to question me intently.
He asked me about my beliefs--whether or not I took a literal interpretation of Scripture--and we got into a discussion about the verity of the Gospels and the 'inconsistencies' in the Old and New Testaments. By this point, we were in the air, and it had become difficult and somewhat uncomfortable to talk around poor Chris, who had the aisle seat, and our conversation was just getting started, so I moved to an empty seat next to Ian, taking my Bible along. We did a bit of searching for those 'inconsistencies', but we found none.
We discussed the Canon and its purpose, books that didn't 'make the cut', and the gnostic gospels. I did a lot of listening; Ian was obviously very well read, and had given the topic a great deal of thought and study. He kept up a never-ending flow of questions! He asked me for my views on drugs and alcohol, abortion, divorce, torture, separation of church and state, and other topics, saying that he appreciated the consistency of my answers.
Then he asked me for my perspective on human suffering, saying that he could not reconcile the idea of a loving God with all the evil he sees in the world. He talked about topics as broad as genocide and as close to home as a friend of his, a coworker, who was a strong Christian. This man took his lunch hour everyday to sit and talk with Ian and answer his endless questions. From Ian's description, this man sounded like one of those rare and shining Christians I aspire to emulate. But he developed cancer and died young, leaving behind his wife and kids... and a very confused Ian.
Ian asked me, very seriously, how a just and loving God could let such a faithful servant of his die such a horrible death, and leave other believers and the man's family to suffer in their grief? I tried to put it in perspective for him, telling him that, for the Christian, death is not the end of all things; death is rather the beginning. It is not a punishment, but a glorious reward; it is not loss, but gain. And as for the man's family, they know that their grief is only temporary, and that they will see him again. Ian was quiet for a while.
Afterward, we retreated to a less personal topic, comparing the book of Job to the story of Faust. I told him about my 'object lesson for Satan' theory, which made him laugh... and think. We discussed predestination, and how God exists outside of time, and how humans have to be content with not knowing everything, even as we strive to learn as much as we can. He told me about a thesis he had written for college, entitled, "The Sin of Knowledge." We debated the pros and cons of free will, and how knowledge is both wonderful and terrible.
We talked about Plato, Socrates and Josephus. We talked about the Jesus Seminar, and about believing in things that cannot scientifically be proven to exist, like God and love. There was a story behind that: at one point, Ian dated an atheist who did not believe in love. She believed only in biochemical reactions. It was the first time I had ever heard that point of view. How could anyone not believe in love?
We talked politics for a little while; Ian revealed that he works for the government. (How cool is that?) He's talked to Colin Powell and met Barack Obama. In discussing the recent election/inauguration, we decided that we both have a problem with people who blindly get behind political candidates without thinking--with anyone, really, who says they believe something or stand behind it... without knowing what it's really about.
We debated: Absolute truth, or subjective truth? I explained to him that perception does not equal reality. Some things are true whether we believe they're true or not. He kept asking me how I would answer him if I was not looking through the eyes of faith; it's simply impossible for me to answer any other way.
Last but not least, after I told him about the purpose of our trip to Poland, he told me a story about his grandfather, who had survived Flossenburg concentration camp. On his deathbed, the man was tormented by the memory of a friend of his, whom he had watched being beaten to death by Nazi soldiers. He had wanted to help him, but knew that such an action would cost him his own life. While he lay dying, he imagined that his friend sat near his bed and demanded of him, "Why did you leave me?"
All in all, it was the most draining conversation I've ever had, and an opportunity I'm glad I did not waste. Ian told me, before I returned to my seat for the final descent, that the things he really appreciated about my conversation style were that I really listened to him and made sure I understood before answering him, that I did not argue belligerently, but respectfully made my position known. I think what impressed him most, though, was that I was willing to admit when I didn't know something. My confession of my imperfect knowledge gave me more credibility. He said that he appreciated my sincerity and consistency; I did not waver between two opinions.
In this way I spent eight hours talking with a twenty-six year old government employee. If I had known a year in advance, I could not have adequately prepared for that conversation. It was the hardest thing I have every done. Everything mattered to Ian; he wanted to have it all figured out before making a commitment . But we cannot 'figure out' concepts like eternity, love, beauty, evil and suffering. We do not have the capacity for infinite knowledge.
This is where Ian and I differed. Everything matters to me, too, but I can accept not knowing why or how God did something, even if I must wrestle with indignation and futility. I accept that I am not God, and that God does not owe me an explanation for doing as He does. Ian is still after that explanation.
We landed at Washington-Dulles airport, and we went our separate ways. I may never see Ian again, though I hope that is not the case, but I know our meeting was orchestrated by God. It's strange to me, the lack of coincidence in circumstances! I pray that Ian's curiosity and his studious nature will lead him to the TRUTH... and that the truth will change his life.
For anyone who's wondering, I did obtain Ian's email address, and we have kept up correspondence since my return to my everyday life. Never brush off the opportunities God gives you! Who knows... I may be a catalyst in Ian's life, all because I chose to obey that still, small voice that prompted me to cross the aisle that day in March.
Aboard our plane from Krakow to Frankfurt, there were thirty orthodox Jewish rabbis from New York City. Everyone in the group just looked at each other, then toward heaven, and thanked God for the opportunity. Patti made everyone laugh by saying, "Now I know the plane won't crash."
The rabbi Patti Sheets was sitting near, Jacob Schmidt, was very open to her questioning. He told her that his mother was a survivor of Auschwitz. He also told her about the fact that regular German citizens knew about conditions in the concentration camps, using the example of a young boy whose mother took him to the zoo in Berlin. When he saw the zebras, he said, "Look, mama, those zebras look like the Jews." It was marvelous chance to get the Jewish perspective on what we had been studying. Disembarking in Germany, each group agreed to pray for the others' safe return home, as we heard that there was a snowstorm moving down the east coast.
We had a five-hour layover in Frankfurt; it made for a long day. It was kind of neat to sit in that hub of activity and enjoy lunch, though. We got to see people from many countries. We even saw a pair of Tibetan monks, in their orange robes, with their staffs that somehow made it through security. I spent some time wondering about that...
Chris and Joanna both paid for a few minutes of internet access and updated their Facebook status; the Florida group was already home, so we got to see what some of them were up to. We missed them already, and we'd only been apart for a few hours!
Funny how God works like that! We knew that day that it was no coincidence that we ended up on the plane next to the most talkative rabbi in the bunch! It was a fairly short flight from Krakow to Frankfurt, so our communication skills from the Paris trip came in very handy. I smile. However, the day was not over yet, and God had much more in store... particularly for me!
We boarded the plane for Washington-Dulles and ended up sitting across the aisle from a very talkative young man (we'll call him Ian). He was full of questions! He asked us our names, where we'd been and why, how old we were, where we went to school, and what we wanted to do with our lives. As soon as he heard that I wanted to be a missionary, he began to question me intently.
He asked me about my beliefs--whether or not I took a literal interpretation of Scripture--and we got into a discussion about the verity of the Gospels and the 'inconsistencies' in the Old and New Testaments. By this point, we were in the air, and it had become difficult and somewhat uncomfortable to talk around poor Chris, who had the aisle seat, and our conversation was just getting started, so I moved to an empty seat next to Ian, taking my Bible along. We did a bit of searching for those 'inconsistencies', but we found none.
We discussed the Canon and its purpose, books that didn't 'make the cut', and the gnostic gospels. I did a lot of listening; Ian was obviously very well read, and had given the topic a great deal of thought and study. He kept up a never-ending flow of questions! He asked me for my views on drugs and alcohol, abortion, divorce, torture, separation of church and state, and other topics, saying that he appreciated the consistency of my answers.
Then he asked me for my perspective on human suffering, saying that he could not reconcile the idea of a loving God with all the evil he sees in the world. He talked about topics as broad as genocide and as close to home as a friend of his, a coworker, who was a strong Christian. This man took his lunch hour everyday to sit and talk with Ian and answer his endless questions. From Ian's description, this man sounded like one of those rare and shining Christians I aspire to emulate. But he developed cancer and died young, leaving behind his wife and kids... and a very confused Ian.
Ian asked me, very seriously, how a just and loving God could let such a faithful servant of his die such a horrible death, and leave other believers and the man's family to suffer in their grief? I tried to put it in perspective for him, telling him that, for the Christian, death is not the end of all things; death is rather the beginning. It is not a punishment, but a glorious reward; it is not loss, but gain. And as for the man's family, they know that their grief is only temporary, and that they will see him again. Ian was quiet for a while.
Afterward, we retreated to a less personal topic, comparing the book of Job to the story of Faust. I told him about my 'object lesson for Satan' theory, which made him laugh... and think. We discussed predestination, and how God exists outside of time, and how humans have to be content with not knowing everything, even as we strive to learn as much as we can. He told me about a thesis he had written for college, entitled, "The Sin of Knowledge." We debated the pros and cons of free will, and how knowledge is both wonderful and terrible.
We talked about Plato, Socrates and Josephus. We talked about the Jesus Seminar, and about believing in things that cannot scientifically be proven to exist, like God and love. There was a story behind that: at one point, Ian dated an atheist who did not believe in love. She believed only in biochemical reactions. It was the first time I had ever heard that point of view. How could anyone not believe in love?
We talked politics for a little while; Ian revealed that he works for the government. (How cool is that?) He's talked to Colin Powell and met Barack Obama. In discussing the recent election/inauguration, we decided that we both have a problem with people who blindly get behind political candidates without thinking--with anyone, really, who says they believe something or stand behind it... without knowing what it's really about.
We debated: Absolute truth, or subjective truth? I explained to him that perception does not equal reality. Some things are true whether we believe they're true or not. He kept asking me how I would answer him if I was not looking through the eyes of faith; it's simply impossible for me to answer any other way.
Last but not least, after I told him about the purpose of our trip to Poland, he told me a story about his grandfather, who had survived Flossenburg concentration camp. On his deathbed, the man was tormented by the memory of a friend of his, whom he had watched being beaten to death by Nazi soldiers. He had wanted to help him, but knew that such an action would cost him his own life. While he lay dying, he imagined that his friend sat near his bed and demanded of him, "Why did you leave me?"
All in all, it was the most draining conversation I've ever had, and an opportunity I'm glad I did not waste. Ian told me, before I returned to my seat for the final descent, that the things he really appreciated about my conversation style were that I really listened to him and made sure I understood before answering him, that I did not argue belligerently, but respectfully made my position known. I think what impressed him most, though, was that I was willing to admit when I didn't know something. My confession of my imperfect knowledge gave me more credibility. He said that he appreciated my sincerity and consistency; I did not waver between two opinions.
In this way I spent eight hours talking with a twenty-six year old government employee. If I had known a year in advance, I could not have adequately prepared for that conversation. It was the hardest thing I have every done. Everything mattered to Ian; he wanted to have it all figured out before making a commitment . But we cannot 'figure out' concepts like eternity, love, beauty, evil and suffering. We do not have the capacity for infinite knowledge.
This is where Ian and I differed. Everything matters to me, too, but I can accept not knowing why or how God did something, even if I must wrestle with indignation and futility. I accept that I am not God, and that God does not owe me an explanation for doing as He does. Ian is still after that explanation.
We landed at Washington-Dulles airport, and we went our separate ways. I may never see Ian again, though I hope that is not the case, but I know our meeting was orchestrated by God. It's strange to me, the lack of coincidence in circumstances! I pray that Ian's curiosity and his studious nature will lead him to the TRUTH... and that the truth will change his life.
For anyone who's wondering, I did obtain Ian's email address, and we have kept up correspondence since my return to my everyday life. Never brush off the opportunities God gives you! Who knows... I may be a catalyst in Ian's life, all because I chose to obey that still, small voice that prompted me to cross the aisle that day in March.
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