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Be What You Are

January 7, 2001

TEXT: MATTHEW 5:13-16

Have you ever been to Auschwitz?

If you have you know that you arrive by tram. You walk down a long winding path to the entrance which is marked by double rows of barbed-wire fencing. That's when you see the cold, gray steel of the entryway, and the railroad tracks that transported literally millions to their death.

The camp is silent now. Despite its thousands of tourists each year, not many voices are heard on those grounds. Auschwitz doesn't exactly inspire conversation. Its brick barracks have now become a museum, with rooms full of the ordinary items people brought to their imprisonment: a huge case of eyeglasses, stacks of suitcases, and a giant bin piled with thousands and thousands of all kinds of shoes, heaped on top of one another -- all kinds of shoes -- elegant high heels, little red slippers, lace up boots, satin baby booties. All shoes worn by people the day they were rounded up by the Gestapo, and carted off to their death.

At another exhibit you see rather ordinary-looking bolts of cloth standing in corners -- a kind of linen-like fabric in a neutral brown color. But if you look closer you see that the fabric is really no cloth at all, but human hair . . . hair that was found in Auschwitz storage rooms by Allied troops after the war -- EIGHT TONS OF IT! Forensic scientists discovered that the hair was full of cyanide.

The process went something like this:

As they came off the train, the prisoners were divided into two groups, one large, one small. Women and children and Jews were sent to one side, as were all of the weakest-looking men - the Poles and strong men were sent to the other.

Then the large group comprised of women, children, Jews, and old men were herded to the bathhouse, where they were told they would receive a delousing shower to deter the threat of disease. At the door they were shown where to put their belongings to be retrieved later, including their clothing. Then, naked and shivering and looking toward the ground to avoid their embarrassment, they filed into the room marked "BATH."

As the last of the group entered the shower rooms -- sometimes as many as 2,000 at a time -- the doors slid shut with a metallic click. Then, through metal vents on top of the building, Nazi orderlies dropped a small quantity of blue crystals into the sealed rooms below, followed by a deadly mist. It was Zyklon B, a potent poison produced by a German firm called "German Society for Combating Pests."

The crystals of hydrogen cyanide made quick work of those in the showers. The panicked victims vomited, suffocated, and emptied their bowels on the concrete floor. Within exactly 23 minutes, workers wearing gas masks and rubber boots opened the door and began unloading the corpses, now in a horrible tangle of arms and legs.

Workers then shaved the heads of the female corpses, snipped off their long braids, and transported the bodies to large brick ovens, where they were fed to flames so intense that in just an hour they would be ashes for the flower beds and rivers.

That was the process.

As you tour the rest of the camp, you visit the prisoners' quarters where some non-Jewish inmates somehow survived in spite of the crowding, disease, and starvation. In spite of the Wall of Death, where over 20,000 political prisoners were shot. In spite of the square where roll call was held each day. In spite of the gallows where insubordinate prisoners were hanged. In spite of the barracks where incredibly inhuman medical experiments were conducted on children and pregnant women. And in spite of the crematorium gas chambers.

HAVE you ever been to Auschwitz? If you have you know that corrupt is not a deep enough description. Because the evil of that place is so oppressive you can feel it . . . so real you can see it. It is a concentration of evil so diabolical that you wonder how human beings could be so depraved. And you ask yourself if there could be any way that good could be found in the midst of such atrocious evil. If there could be any flicker of light in such heinous darkness.

Maximilian Kolbe was 45 years old when the Nazis invaded his homeland. He was a Polish monk who had founded a Franciscan order in a village near Warsaw. There, Father Kolbe presided over 762 priests and lay brothers, the largest friary in the world.

Maximilian had a global vision for evangelism. His greatest desire was that the entire world come to know the saving power of Jesus Christ. And so every morning he sat at his simple desk in his simple office room, with a large globe in front of him and he prayed over the world that the Gospel would flourish in every land. But he did so knowing, and fearing, that a far different message seemed to be flourishing.

You see, entire nations had already fallen to the demented Adolf Hitler and his Nazis, including Austria and Czechoslovakia. Kolbe was afraid Poland would be next. And he was right, because on September 1, 1939, the Nazi hammer began to crush Warsaw.

Hitler's plan for Poland was no secret. And his plan for Poland's ministers was also no secret. In a memorandum to the Governor General of Poland he wrote: "They will preach what we want them to preach. If any priest acts differently, we shall make short work of him. Their task is to keep the Poles quiet, stupid and dull-witted."

But Maximilian Kolbe was clearly a minister who "acted differently" from the Nazis' plan. He continued to love and care and preach Jesus Christ.

In early February, 1941, the Polish underground smuggled word to Kolbe that his name was on a Gestapo list, and that he was about to be arrested. Kolbe knew what happened to the loved ones of those who tried to elude the Nazis' grasp -- their friends and families were taken instead. He had no wife or children. His church was his only family. And not willing to risk the loss of any of them, he stayed where he was.

At 9:00 in the morning, on February 17th, Kolbe was sitting at his desk, praying in front of the globe, when they came to arrest him. He was found guilty of the crime of publishing unapproved materials and sentenced to Auschwitz.

When he arrived an SS officer informed him that the life expectancy of priests there was about a month. Kolbe was assigned to the timber detail. He was to carry tree trunks from one place to another and guards stood by to ensure that the exhausted prisoners did so at a quick pace.

When Kolbe finally staggered and collapsed from exhaustion, officers surrounded him, kicking him with their boots and beating him with their whips. He was then stretched out on a pile of wood, given 50 lashes, shoved into a ditch and left for dead.

But having been picked up by some prisoners who had already been the beneficiary of his caring ministry, he woke up in a prison hospital, where he miraculously revived.

Kolbe was switched to another barracks where he continued to minister to his fellow prisoners, encouraging them, and trying to bring hope. Every night he would move among the prisoners, covering up those shivering from the cold, praying over each of them, and sharing a quiet, comforting word with those too hungry to sleep. He would hug bony shoulder, and smile with understanding as men poured out their hearts, and then he would bless them in Jesus' name.

He wrote in his journal during those days: "The cross, CHRIST'S CROSS has triumphed over its enemies in every age. I believe, in the end, even in these darkest days in Poland, the cross will triumph over the swastika. I pray I can be faithful to that end."

By the end of July, 1941, Auschwitz was working like a well-oiled killing machine, and the Nazis congratulated themselves on their efficiency. At first there had been some doubt that they could find an efficient way to dispose of so many people. Their early methods of execution -- mass shootings, hangings, and lethal injections - all made it too difficult to effectively dispose of the corpses.

But Auschwitz? Oh, it was going well. The camp's five chimneys never stopped smoking. The stench was terrible, but the results were excellent: 8,000 Jews could be stripped, gassed, and cremated, all in 24 hours -- EVERY 24 hours!

About the only problem was the occasional prisoner from the work side of the camp who would figure out a way to escape. When the escapees were caught, as they usually were, they would be hung with special nooses that slowly choked out their lives, as a warning to others who might be tempted to try the same thing.

But on one July night, a man escaped from Barracks 14. And the next morning at roll call there was no one hanging from the gallows. That meant a prisoner had made it out of Auschwitz . . . and that meant death for some of those who remained.

After the roll call, the Camp Commandant ordered the dismissal of all but Barracks 14. While the rest of the camp went about its duties, the prisoners from Barracks 14 stood motionless in line. They waited. Hours passed. The summer sun beat down. Some fainted and were dragged away and beaten. Others swayed in place and were instantly clubbed with gun butts. Father Kolbe, miraculously, stayed on his feet.

By that evening the commandant was ready to hand down a sentence. "The fugitive has not been found," he screamed. "Ten of you will die for him in the starvation bunker. Next time, twenty will be condemned."

Several prisoners instantly collapsed to the ground. Nothing was worse than the starvation bunker. At least to be hung, or shot, or the gas chamber were quick, even humane, compared to Nazi starvation, because they denied you water as well as food. The condemned didn't even look like human beings after a day or two. They frightened even the guards.

Ten men were methodically chosen and placed on the death roll. One of them cried out: "My wife and children . . . what will they do?"

Suddenly there was a commotion from the ranks. A prisoner had broken out of line, calling for the commandant. It was unheard of to leave the ranks, let alone address a Nazi officer -- it's result was always the death penalty. But as the officer turned, instead of instantly shooting the man, he shouted: "Halt! What does this Polish pig want of me?"

And instantly there was a collective gasp from the prisoners. Because there stood Father Kolbe . . . the man who had shared his last crust of bread, who had comforted the dying, who had listened to their cries for forgiveness and who had nourished their souls. Of all people, not Father Kolbe.

But there he stood . . . and he spoke softly, even calmly: "I would like to die in place of one of the men you condemned."

"WHY?"

"I am an old man, sir," Kolbe said, "My life will serve no purpose."

"In whose place do you want to die?" asked the commandant.

"For that one," Kolbe responded, and he pointed to the weeping prisoner who had cried out about his wife and children.

For the first time the commandant looked into the eyes of Kolbe and asked: "WHO ARE YOU??" . . . . It was a good question. Father Kolbe joined the line of the other nine condemned.

The ten men were stripped down until they were completely naked and filed into the Barracks 11 basement, a dark cell with no windows. As they were shoved down the stairs, one of the guards shouted: "You will dry up like tulips." And then the heavy door slammed shut.

Hours and even days passed. But something was different this time. The entire camp became aware of something extraordinary happening in the death cell. In the past the prisoners had spent their dying days howling, attacking one another, and clawing the walls in a frenzy.

But now, coming from the death box, those on the outside could hear . . . singing. SINGING! What made the difference? This time the prisoners had a shepherd gently leading them through the shadows of the valley of death, all the while pointing them to the Great Shepherd.

A prisoner named Brono Borgowiec, who survived Auschwitz and who tells Father Kolbe's story, served as an attendant in the death cells. Everyday his job was to remove the corpses who had finally withered away.

On August 14, 1941, there were four prisoners still alive in the bunker, and it was needed for new occupants. And so a German doctor entered the basement with four syringes in his hand. When they swung the door open, three of the prisoners were lying on the floor, unconscious but alive. The doctor jabbed the needles into three bony arms, then he turned to find the fourth.

As they swung the light of their flashlights around, there they found Maximilian Kolbe, a living skeleton, propped against one wall. His eyes were wide open as if fixed on some faraway vision . . . and he had a smile on his face.

Father Kolbe was the last to die. To his last breath, he pointed people, friends and enemies alike, to Jesus Christ. And by his life he proved that men and women, even in the face of the greatest of horrors and darkest of evils, can demonstrate the greatest of loves.*

I've been asking myself what was going through Maximilian Kolbe's mind when he volunteered to lay down his life for his fellow prisoner.

I guess no one really knows, but one thing is clear . . . the decision was instantaneous. It was the natural consequence of a life shaped by a radical commitment to Jesus Christ. WHAT HE DID RESULTED FROM WHO HE WAS!

Very few of us will find ourselves in Maximilian Kolbe's shoes. But the truth of his story is true for every believer: What we do flows out of who we are! Our actions are the natural consequence of what we are about. Being always precedes doing! Because at the very core of our Christian witness in the world lies the reality of who each of us is in relationship to Jesus Christ and who we are in relationship to one another in this new life community called the church.

Jesus said: "You ARE the salt of the earth. You ARE the light of the world." NOT you should be the salt. NOT you ought to be the light. NOT it would be nice if you'd consider it. NO! You ARE salt! You ARE light! By virtue of what I have made you to be by my grace YOU ARE! And he says it emphatically: "YOU are!"

In this Sermon on the Mount, for ten straight sentences Jesus has simply stated what is. He hasn't commanded anything yet. The Beatitudes are not commands, they are statements of being - they are conditions of personhood.

You see, Jesus always tells us who we are before he tells us what to do. He blesses us before he commands us. He enables us before he challenges us. Condition before action! Indicative before imperative! Grace before call!

The Beatitudes are not just an introduction to the Sermon on the Mount. They are the very engine of faith in Christ. The foundation of Christian existence is the grace of God and what he has made us to be.

"You are the salt of the earth." You do not exist for yourself. You exist for God's work in the world. You are the seasoning that brings out the God flavors in the world. You are the preservatives that penetrate into our society that help to purify a fallen and sinful humanity.

"You are the light of the world." Not only will you penetrate the very fabric of society, you will be a visible expression of the Kingdom of God. "A city on a hill cannot be hidden." We're going public with this. This isn't going to be some kind of CIA, covert mission. There aren't going to be any undercover Christians. Just as I illuminated those in darkness and pointed them to the Father, so now you are to shine in the darkness and point people to me. You will be ME in the world.

"YOU ARE SALT!" [fact] "YOU ARE LIGHT!" [fact]

But please notice that FACT is immediately followed by FUNCTION. Jesus challenges his disciples not to BECOME salty (their saltiness is a gift of God's grace), rather they are challenged to STAY salty (challenged to be who they are).

Because there are pressures at work all AROUND us and WITHIN us not to be who we are - not to be too Christian - not to take our faith too seriously - to give in to the war of what our culture would have us become.

You see, though we ARE salt, we face the constant pressure to be tasteless, prudent, and "normal" people. Though we ARE light, there is the constant pressure not to shine too brightly.

In other words, Jesus is saying that those of my disciples, who are not freely giving what they have received, are in danger of losing what have been freely given.

And Jesus says whenever that happens, we become "good for nothing." The word in the Greek language is "dumb." The disciple who ceases to be what they are simply becomes foolish, because they have lost the meaning of who they are and what they are to be as followers of Jesus Christ.

And those followers suffer a very peculiar persecution. They aren't jumped on, ambushed, or attacked. They are merely ignored. They're just shrugged off. Their faith is so insipid and tasteless, they're not even worth taking seriously.

We are to be visible in the darkness, to point people to Christ, and we are to do that by penetrating into the very fabric of the world because of WHO and WHAT we are.

We don't have to go around constantly searching for our purpose in the world and why we exist. The purpose of our lives is to remove the veil from our Heavenly Father's face, and to display something of his glory in our world. The reason we exist is the glory of God.

Maximilian Kolbe didn't have to witness to the guards who marched him to the death chamber. He WAS a witness! Because he believed by God's grace, it was better to light one candle than to curse the darkness.

And even in the atrocities and evil of the world in which you and I live, a light still shines in the darkness, and the darkness cannot extinguish it. And that light is Christ Jesus in YOU!

YOU! YOU! YOU are the salt of the earth. YOU are the light of the world. Now BE what you ARE!

*Excerpted from The Body by Chuck Colson.