Pandemic Christmas

“When Christmas must be celebrated in captivity it is naturally a rather dismal affair.” So began Martin Niemöller’s 1944 Christmas Eve sermon in Dachau, cell 34. His congregation of six included a Dutch cabinet member, two Norwegian shippers, a British major, a Yugoslavian diplomat and a Macedonian journalist. Dismal perhaps, but for Niemöller, it was also a sign of tremendous hope. Ever since his arrest seven years earlier for preaching anti-Nazi sermons in his Berlin congregation, Niemöller had been bereft of any pastoral care, “awaiting day after day for years the liberation or the end, depending for years upon yourself and your pitiful spiritual poverty,” and without any opportunity to hold a worship service. Fortunately on this occasion with such an international congregation that included Lutherans, Anglicans, Calvinists and Greek Orthodox, all spoke German and were able to sing German carols, Niemöller wrote shortly after their liberation, with “a zest and joy to be found in few congregations of our homeland.”

I hold his little book of six sermons, purchased by Ronald E. Osborn for $1.50 on February 18, 1947 and autographed by Niemöller himself twenty years and a month later, and ponder what that experience of captivity must have been like in comparison to the captivity of this pandemic. My Christmas Eve this year was the first in 30 years of not conducting services. Instead, I found myself leading an impromptu readers theater version of “The Best Christmas Pageant Ever” by Barbara Robinson via Zoom with 15 good friends. Perhaps not a religious service, but still a spiritual experience of sorts as we laughed at comical scenes of a Christmas pageant gone wrong led by the unorthodox Herdman children and yet, precisely right. I know of few stories that better catch the meaning of Christmas. Earlier in the day we gathered with Judy’s family spread across six states and four time zones to share stories and Christmas music sung or played from each location. Later today the Bryant clan will gather for their “Zoommas” as well, our first sans our beloved patriarch.

On the one hand spending the holidays without the usual raucous affair of a house full of loved ones is not particularly desirable or fun, but it has not been dismal. And yes, I especially missed that very special time gathered in a candlelit circle around the sanctuary singing “Silent Night” and to hear the church chimes ring the song at midnight. The forced isolation of this pandemic is growing tiresome and can be extremely frustrating. I get why some lose their composure and rage at those mask enforcing and social distancing rules. This pandemic stinks. Yet taking out those frustrations on some poor employee just doing their job is totally unacceptable. Rebelling against them by ignoring them is equally unacceptable and only shows a lack of concern for your neighbor and even your loved ones. Especially infuriating are the politicians who refuse to accept the guidance of the health experts and instead make common sense measures optional and a matter of personal preference. Well I prefer to protect the health and safety of all our community members, even those too stubborn or perhaps too ignorant to recognize the danger of their actions, inexcusable as they may be.

I also recognize that these issues are not as simple as choosing health over the economy or economic interests over the health of others. The truth not recognized by many is that health and economy are not separable. What good does it do us to protect the health of the senior members of our society if the result is children who face serious hunger because Dad lost his job and community resources are scarce? And when charity becomes a substitute for employment, we are all in serious trouble. One of the ironies of this time is that health care providers are increasingly recognizing that housing is a health care issue and are therefore putting more health care dollars into housing efforts. At the same time, the pandemic is taxing the health care system while also weakening the economic system on which it depends, making those dollars more scarce.

So these are trying times and this Christmas has been a tough one for many and maybe even most. Even as I reflect on how crummy it is to spend Christmas apart from the rest of the family and how trying the entire year has been, I am can only imagine that my experience does not begin to compare what it was like for Martin Niemöller to spend over nearly eight years in a concentration camp, or John McCain to spend six years in as a POW, or Nelson Mandela to spend 27 years in a cell where he could stand in the middle and touch the walls on either side. And then there are those who spent the entire year and more living on the street or in a refugee camp. I think of this year’s Christmas news of the 20 who drowned in their attempt to cross the Mediterranean in search of a better life. Our troubles don’t often compare to many we see in the news and many more we do not.

Instead of focusing on all that was lost in this year, I choose to focus on what was gained: New vaccines produced and approved in record time to end this pandemic; Connecting with family and friends in new ways online and learning that working from home really is possible for many people, myself included; Heroic efforts to aid so many who lost their homes in the recent fires; A new President who will seek to unite the country rather than divide it; Our first female Vice President; Confirmation of a judicial system that remains independent of political whims and has withstood the onslaught to allow conspiracy theories overthrow the vote of the people. Not all was bad in 2020!

Even the two big losses in my life this past year are sources of great joy: Thirty Easters and all the years in between with an amazing congregation for which I am deeply grateful–parting was such “sweet sorrow”, sweet not to leave, but precisely because of all the good that makes one sorrowful to leave; And the death of my father, my idol and mentor in ministry who I miss dearly, but who also continues bless me with all he gave to me the entire 65 years of my life. Though we are now apart, each remain a part of me in ways that are deep and everlasting, and for that I am thankful.

The worst of the pandemic may be yet to come, but the end is now in sight. For that too, I give thanks.

There is scant mention of Niemöller’s imprisonment in his six sermons from Dachau, rather the overall message is one of hope. His last sermon was given on the Monday after Easter. Observing the signs of spring, he states, “We should also be grateful that the new bread begins to grow which—may God will it—despite all the distress around us will still support the life of millions of human beings.” [emphasis mine] While most political prisoners like Niemöller did not suffer near the distress of Jewish prisoners, one can only imagine how difficult it was to endure. Some, like Niemöller’s more famous counterpart, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, suffered the ultimate fate and were executed for their efforts to undermine the Hitler regime.

Though Niemöller may have feared the worst, he remained confident in his faith. “There remains in our faith,” he told his prison mates, “a longing and a hope which direct us forward and upward.” A few days later SS troops took Niemöller and 140 other high-valued prisoners to a fortress in southern Germany for use as hostages in negotiations with the Allies. Hitler’s orders were to kill all of them should liberation be imminent. Fortunately for Niemöller and the rest, the regular forces of the German army took over control of the group and kept them in protective custody until western forces arrived.

The entire experience had a profound on Niemöller’s life and beliefs. A U-boat captain who was responsible for the sinking of a number of ships in the WWI, Niemöller was an early supporter of Hitler who he believed would restore Germany to greatness. His views began to change only when Hitler went back on his personal promise to Niemöller made before he became Chancellor that Jews who converted to Christianity would have nothing to fear from Nazism. Only after the war when the horror of the Holocaust became fully known did Niemöller come to terms with his own anti-Semitism and the gravity of his error. His famous saying expressed it well:

When they came for the communists, I did not speak up because I was not a communist. When they came for the trade unionists I did not speak up because I was not a trade unionist. When they came for the Jews I did not speak up because I was not a Jew. When they came for me, no one was left to speak up.

Niemöller went on to become one of the most influential leaders of the German church after the war. He was instrumental in getting the chief council of the German Protestant church in 1945 to declare its guilt for failing to oppose Nazism (the Stuttgart Confession of Guilt). He became an ardent pacifist, one of the most well-known leaders of the German peace movement and traveled to North Vietnam to meet with Ho Chi Minh in his own peace mission.

Great leaders are often those who arise in times of great adversity. They do not master it as much as it changes them. It may be some time before we can fully recognize all the ways in which this pandemic has impacted us and how it will shape leaders yet to come. It was in such a time of enormous adversity that threatened a small nation on the eastern shores of the Mediterranean that a prophet arose to proclaim a word of hope:

For a child has been born to us, a son given to us; authority rests upon his shoulders; and he is name Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

May it so be once again.