Moments and memorials:

In a Polish forest not far from the village of Tykocin rest the remains of 1,400 of its former residents–virtually all of its Jewish population. They were rounded up in late August 1941, transported or marched into the woods, shot, and buried in mass graves. Their killing was carried out by a Nazi mobile killing unit with the support and participation of many from their own community–former neighbors, acquaintances, even friends.  

In July, my husband Matt and I participated in JUF’s Evangelical Leadership Mission to Poland–as part of my work as the Global Church Representative of the National Association of Evangelicals. The mission–led by Wheaton College President Dr. Phil Ryken and JUF Rabbinic Scholar Rabbi Yehiel E. Poupko–offered a week-long exploration of the history of Polish and European Jewry with Evangelical and Jewish leaders.

As we visited synagogues, yeshivas, ghettos, graveyards, and concentration and death camps, it was heart-wrenching to consider the loss of a vibrant community. For hundreds of years until the Second World War, Poland had the largest number of Jews in Europe.

It was difficult to wrestle with the scope of the loss, as well as the powerful impact that depersonalizing one’s “enemy” can have. As we walked through Auschwitz, Rabbi Poupko, our guide and teacher, spoke of many of the practices within the camp that were focused on dehumanizing its occupants: replacing their names with numbers, eliminating their personal privacy, and depriving them of all that is needed for life. Seen through a Jewish, as well as a Christian, lens, these atrocities seemed all the more intentional, cruel, and vindictive. 

Our cohort and its activities were designed to bring together groups of people who might not normally cross paths–or, if they did, might not focus on these topics. It was a very different experience for me, as a white Christian woman, to walk through and process a visit to Auschwitz with several rabbis and Jewish community educators and organizers, as well as several Black evangelicals.

Over the course of the week, there were opportunities to share a bit of our stories, ask and answer hard questions about faith, worldview, and public perceptions about our beliefs, weep, laugh (a daily “dad joke” from one of the Jewish leaders was a lighthearted way to start what often turned into a heavy day), and pray. We read Psalms of Lament, shared moments of silence, and wrestled internally and in small groups with what’s next for a world that is again surging with nationalistic tendencies, and hatred for those who are not like us… or simply do not agree with us. 

There were so many parts of this trip I could not have anticipated. I didn’t expect to spend a long bus ride reminiscing with a member of the group who had immigrated to the U.S. from Moscow as a teen–around the time Matt and I moved to that same city. I was honored to hear the stories and experiences of fellow sojourners. I wilted in the 90+ degree heat the afternoon of our Birkenau Camp visit, and questioned how anyone could survive on the scarce water rations that the prisoners there received. I captured a few images on my camera and realized that many more have been seared on my brain.

This was a trip I knew would be important in my work in Europe and the U.S. My work with another faith-based organization often brings me to Europe, where one cannot walk around many city centers without seeing plaques, medallions, brass squares, markers, and memorials to victims of the Holocaust. Visits to camps, ghettos, and graves are a requirement for many school groups, military trainees, and visiting dignitaries in the region. The commitment to “never forget” with the hope of “never again” is both powerful and necessary. These tributes are, in new ways now, a reminder of the humanity of each and every person made in the image of G-d and the call, as a follower of Jesus, to love them as he does. 

Terri Miller is the Global Church Representative for the National Association of Evangelicals.