Deep, Dark, Secret Past

My wife and I are in Germany right now, and we’re having a wonderful time. I still speak very little of the language, but am thoroughly enjoying myself in spite of that barrier and I feel completely at home here. A few nights ago we went to the Hofbrauhaus, where they only serve beer by the liter. After that, we went to walk through the Veinaksmarkt, which is basically a winter market. They have all sorts of different stands selling chocolate covered fruit (amazing!), chestnuts, and handmade crafts. We also had Gluwein, which is wine heated up with honey and herbs. Amazing.

Last Thursday morning we took the train out to the Dauchau concentration camp. It was such a humbling experience to see the site where some of the worst atrocities in history were committed. It was even more humbling to walk over soil that had literally been fertilized by the ashes of thousands of people who were burned in the crematorium. While we were there, we saw several large groups of high-school aged students. I learned that one of the requirements in the German school system is to visit at least one concentration camp during your schooling. The reason for this is to remind the students of the terrible mistakes that were made in the past, to educate them on the reasons for these mistakes in hopes of ensuring that nothing like this ever happens again in Germany’s future. I began thinking about the mistakes that have been made in my country’s history: slaughtering thousands of Native American men, women, and children as we expanded westward; dropping two atomic bombs resulting in the gruesome deaths of thousands of innocent people and terrible health complications for years afterward. I believe most people today would admit that our nation has made many mistakes, as has any nation; this is how we learn. However, students in Germany are forced to confront in a very personal nature the mistakes of their nation’s past. They are required to visit a site at which thousands of people were murdered. They walk down the line where the barracks built for 200 people housed 2000. They walk through the rooms where dead bodies were stored and cremated. They see pictures and hear stories from people who spent years in the concentration camps. They confront their country’s past mistakes in a very real and personal manner. People fear showing too much patriotism in Germany like flying a flag or singing their national anthem because these symbols were associated with such gruesome acts in the past. I wonder what our nation’s flag represents to the families of those who were murdered as our society expanded westward. I wonder what our flag represents to the families in Japan who lost loved ones when the bomb was dropped and for years afterward. I believe in what our flag represents, but I also recognize that many mistakes have been made under the authority of that flag. I’m not attempting to argue that we should dwell on our mistakes and constantly feel guilty, but continually being aware of the mistakes of our past is the only way we can avoid making them again. It is the only way to ensure the motto that is written upon the memorial at Dauchau, “Never Again”. When we talked about the horrific events in the history of the U.S. in my in schooling, it was seldom in a manner that forced us to confront and learn from mistakes. I almost feel as if we attempt to forget about the mistakes of the past in order to work toward a better future. But as I contemplated during our visit to Dauchau, I realized that if we forget about our mistakes, we might make them again.

There now stand on the grounds of the concentration camp 4 memorials erected by the Jewish, Catholic, Protestant, and Russian Orthodox churches. These memorials exist to honor the many who were killed and function as a place where visitors can offer up prayers. Directly on the other side of the north wall of the camp now lies a convent, formed in the shape of a cross. The nuns who live in this convent are there solely to pray for redemption and reconciliation as a result of the atrocities committed in this camp. This tells me that these nuns recognize the long-lasting effects in the spiritual realm of grave mistakes and terrible evils. The effects of such events don’t just go away, I believe that there are long-lasting implications in both the spiritual and physical realms. You can’t bury the past.

All of this has me thinking a lot. It makes me think about how we handle the past in the church as well. Like our country’s flag, the church represents pain, hurt, and suffering to many people. Sometimes I wonder if we have spent so much time trying to overcome our guilt that we have failed to spend the time we need remembering the mistakes of the past so that we don’t make them again. Some of the evils that have been done in the name of the church (and our country) warrant building a convent and spending years in prayer.

And naturally, I must end with some personal reflection, for I know that the problems in my church and country begin with me and change must begin here as well. I’m a guilt-ridden person. Anyone who knows me can testify that I feel guilty for the silliest things because I am constantly concerned with the approval of others. In this vein, reflection on past mistakes has always been torture for me because I felt bad enough when I made the mistake. Why would I want to revisit it? My solution has always been to move on to the next thing, hoping that the future will improve as I live and learn. But I’m realizing that perhaps I’ve been looking at it in the wrong light. I’m not talking here about constantly dwelling in the past, that’s ridiculous. What I’m talking about is being a true student of history on a personal, spiritual, and political level. I’m talking about studying mistakes to discover why they were made and what the results were. I’m talking about truly learning from the mistakes we make. Because as I reflect, I begin to see that I often do not learn from my mistakes, I make the same ones over and over again. And I think part of this is because I move on far too quickly in order to avoid feeling guilty. I don’t spend the time that I need in order to truly learn from my mistake so that it doesn’t happen again.

I was reading a book called “White Teeth” last night by Zadie Smith and I came across a quote that I believe sums up what I’m getting at quite nicely. “He was no student of history (and science had taught him that the past was where we did things through a glass, darkly, whereas the future was always brighter, a place where we did things right or at least right-er)”. I think this is how I have viewed life for quite some time, things just automatically get better and brighter as time progresses. But now I’m beginning to wonder, if we don’t take the time to reflect and learn from our mistakes, will the future still get brighter? If we forget about our deep, dark, secret past, what will keep the past from becoming our future?

With Pride

My wife and I moved recently. After devoting two years of our lives to service with AmeriCorps in Tehama County, we have relocated to Rancho Cordova (just outside Sacramento). We are living with family while we go to school, I'll be pursuing my teaching credential and Jordana her Masters in Social Work. A few weeks ago we spent some time reflecting on the last few years of our lives. We committed two years of our lives to the community in which we were serving, which was a relatively new feeling for both of us to realize. As we reflected, we realized that as we moved on we would be leaving our imprint on this community in a very real way. Traditions such as Family Fun Nights did not exist before we created them and have now become a much-loved staple in the community. As we reflected, I felt a real pride in what we had done and I realized that in spite of the bitterness and cynicism that we had worked through in the past few years regarding the church, God was still very much at work in our lives. Using two broken vessels to bring fresh light into a community. We also quickly realized how difficult it would be to leave the community to which we had devoted ourselves for two years. We had developed relationships with families, children, and co-workers, we were invested and involved in their lives. Though I have moved often in my life, this was one of the most difficult transitions I have ever made. When I spent my last time with the young boy I have mentored for the past two years, he nearly cried on the drive home because he was afraid he'd never see me again. This caused me to tear up as well. I developed a real love for him during the time we spent together. It was hard to leave.

The most exciting realization I had as we were reflecting on our last two years was the way in which my wife had begun to live out what she has fealt called to for most of her life. She has always had a passion for women, to see women rise up into their identity as loved daughters of God and live in that confidence. While she was somewhat involved in church ministries for women in the past and enjoyed that, it always felt like there was something missing. Within the last 10 months I have seen a new passion arise in her because she has discovered a heart and talent for working with teenage girls. This, I believe, is the fulfillment of her vision and passion for empowering women.

Jordana spent the last year working with foster youth who have spent many years in the system. It is not uncommon for her youth to have been placed in 30-40 different foster homes in their short lives. She worked with these youth to help them with basic life skills that most people take for granted, such as how to open a bank account, how to write a check, or how to pump gas into a car. She also helped them to establish goals, find housing for when they turn 18, and find resources for school and jobs. One of the projects she was able to lead this year was called Girl's Circle. Jordana facilitated this 12-week group for girl's in which they talked about a range of issues such as body image, sexuality, dating, violence, and family. While only two girls ended up committing to the group long-term, it turned out to be a monumental experience for both the girls and Jordana. As the group went on week after week, Jordana would come home with a very heavy heart because of the pain that she was learning about that had taken place in these girl's lives. Out of respect to the girls, Jordana kept the confidentiality of the group and never shared details with me. She only told me that she couldn't believe the pain that these girls had experienced in their short lives. I respect her so much for that, for maintaining the girl's trust and not sharing details with me. I'm not sure I could have done the same.

She did share one detail with me. She said that during the group in which they talked about relationships, Jordana asked the girls what a healthy relationship looked like. One of the girl's quickly responded "you and Colter". It blessed me to hear that the Lord was working through our marriage in that way.

Because Jordana and I worked in the same office, I became somewhat aquainted with the girls in this group. On the last day of group, the girls came into my office and said that they wanted to show me what they bought for Jordana as a going away gift. They had bought her a beautiful bracelet with the words "strength, believe, and trust" engraved on it. They also gave her a card in which they wrote their gratitude to her for the influence she had on their lives and asking her to never forget them. As a result of this group, the two girls became good friends and have served as great support for one another. They both said that this group had been life-changing for them, teaching them to deal with their past pain so they can move on with life. Teaching them to establish goals for themselves. Helping them to realize their beauty and that they deserve to be treated well. One of the girls said that the group had helped her to reconnect with God as she began to deal with the hurt and bitterness that she was harboring. As I saw the excitement and pain on these girls faces as they prepared to say their goodbyes, I knew that Jordana was living out her vision and her passion. I knew that the Lord had worked through her to influence the lives of these girls in a very positive manner. I knew that these girls would never forget Jordana and Jordana would never forget them. As they walked out of my office I was so filled with pride for my wife that I began to tear up. She had finally found an outlet for the vision the Lord had given her. She had finally found a way in which to live out her passion. And I know there are at least two lives that are better for it, Jordana's as well. With the pride of a husband, I honor my wife. With the pride of a father, I know the Lord honors her as well.

Here's to you Jordana.