Minor Thoughts from me to you

Hitler and Holocaust comparisons are considered fairly gauche these days on account of their overuse.

Nevertheless, bear with me.

Imagine you’re a German in the 1930’s or early ‘40’s – nobody of particular consequence, but a lawful and ethnic citizen of das Deutschland. Turning on the radio one morning, you hear a typically bellicose and historically divergent Fuhrer publicly announce that any living man, woman, or child who is not a member of the Nationalist Socialist Party by the time Germany wins the war will be receiving a special gift from the government: a one-way ticket to the ovens of Auschwitz and Birkenau.

Needless to say, you’re alarmed. Not for yourself, of course; you’ve been a member in good standing of the Third Reich’s sole political party since childhood, when you would go camping in the summers with all your friends in the Hitler Youth Corps. But you have friends, coworkers, and even family whom you love very much and of whom you think very highly, yet who have foolishly never decided that accepting Hitler as their leader is in their best interests.

Usually you greet every directive of the Fuhrer with implicit and joyful trust, but this time doubt wells in your heart. You understand why your Jewish neighbors had to go – they were, after all, constantly trying to sabotage the creation of the German utopia – but why all these other people?

You ask your friend Johann, who works for the Party and is schooled in the impeccable reasoning that underwrites all its actions; he’s always been able to clear up for you any idelogical concept you don’t quite grasp, so long as you aren’t actually challenging the government’s authority.

And it’s “Quite simple, really,” Johann tells you, an understanding smile on his face. “I grant you that it’s sad, but surely you’d agree that a socialist utopia can never occur if selfish capitalists and other undesirable elements are allowed to keep operating within it. They’d ruin everything. They must be weeded out.”

“Can’t we just force them to obey?” you ask hopefully.

Johann clucks his tongue. “And make them all slaves? The Fuhrer respects the free will of each citizen. He believes in personal freedom.”

“Then exile,” you desperately suggest. “The Fuhrer could banish them from Germany, yet he could also show mercy by allowing them to return once they realize the error of their ways!”

“An infinite amount of time to choose,” Johann patiently explains, “would render their judgment inconsequential. What does it matter what path one selects, if he may later instantly step onto the path he forewent? And furthermore, of what worth is an oath of loyalty, when victory has already been won? No, my friend, a line in the sand must be drawn, and the end of the war is the right place to do so. ”

He pats you on the shoulder. “Listen to me. I know how difficult this is for you. It is the same for me. I do not want any Germans to burn up in the ovens. That’s why I work so hard every day for the Interior Ministry of Propaganda – because I love my countrymen and want to convince as many of them as possible to accept Hitler as their own personal fuhrer. Now, if I may speak candidly and if you will be discreet, I will confess something to you: if I was the one in charge of the government, I would not have the strength of will to sign an order to eliminate so many. But I’m not the one in charge, nor should I be. Nor should you be, my friend, I think you will agree. So let us both just have faith in Adolf Hitler, that what he does is and always has been good and wise. He will not lead us astray.”

You nod, slowly but firmly. All of his points make sense, but it’s the last things Johann said which actually soothe the ache that had been developing in your heart: that you and he aren’t the ones responsible for doing this. It’s not in your hands. You’re both just two good people trying to save as many Germans as possible before the Fuhrer does what he must. And as for the Fuhrer’s role in all of this? Even if you don’t completely understand that, you should just have faith it’s all for the best.

Besides, it’s not like people who turns down membership aren’t choosing the ovens for themselves. If they are sentenced to death, it’ll be their own fault.

“Heil Hitler,” Johann ritually declares, bringing an end to your meeting.

“Heil Hitler,” you reply, and stand.

*

I’ve encountered another mainstream argument for the justness of Hell that I haven’t paraphrased in the above allegory. It’s a claim made by many of the largest websites on Christian apologetics: that people ultimately go to Hell because they literally prefer eternal torment to complete surrender to God.

It’s the only reason that still makes sense to me. But that’s because it’s the right decision - the one any brave enough person should make if confronted with a despot threatening genocide. To support a murderous regime is a monstrous evil in and of itself, even if yours is not the murdering hand. The German people of the 1930’s and ‘40’s certainly bore a collective guilt for following a man we now refer to as a gold standard of evil. Christians who believe in Hell and serve its creator bear the same.

On some level, I think most Christians now understand that, too, which is why in these more enlightened times popular interpretations of Hell have begun to soften, with references to fire, brimstone, and outer darkness being declared metaphorical or judiciously ignored. They speak instead of “eternal separation from God,” a softer fate parallel to my scenario’s suggestion of Hitler exiling non-Nazis.

That’s nonsense, but at least it’s an attempt, however underhanded, to rid themselves of the evil doctrine. The Christians I don’t understand are those who do not consider it incumbent upon themselves to address it at all. They piously punt, assuring all inquirers that while they don’t know God’s reason, it’s sure to be a good one – on its face a breathtakingly irresponsible decision.

Or they utilize excuses like those in my scenario, telling in that their obvious purpose is selfish. People who do feel better after Johann’s defense do so because their concerns have nothing to do with mercy; everything he says only addresses and absolves them and their god of culpability. And that is good enough for them.

The truly loving person would not be so satisfied. Indeed, you would think that the natural response of a Spirit-filled Christian, theoretically brimming with love for his or her fellow man, would be to either immediately commit to a lifetime of missions work or plunge headlong into abyssal depression, perhaps followed by alcoholism and drug abuse. Biblical precedents exist for both routes.

I would prefer a third option, however, that also has an example in God’s Supposed Word: that of Moses, the humblest man then alive, who nevertheless had the courage to say to his LORD on Mt. Sinai, “Please forgive their sin—but if not, then blot me out of the book you have written."