Rescue

Buchenwald Concentration Camp, liberated by U.S. 3rd Army, April, 1945


Luke 1:67-79 (The Message)

Blessed be the Lord, the God of Israel;
he came and set his people free.

He set the power of salvation in the center of our lives,
and in the very house of David his servant,

Just as he promised long ago
through the preaching of his holy prophets:
Deliverance from our enemies
and every hateful hand;

Mercy to our fathers,
as he remembers to do what he said he'd do,

What he swore to our father Abraham—

a clean rescue from the enemy camp,
So we can worship him without a care in the world,
made holy before him as long as we live.

I feel sure that as long as I live, I'll never forget that "little old man."

Though his name, and the name of the country church where he worshiped have already left my memory, his face has not...and neither has his story.

As my father (who was this man's pastor) and I stood with him on the little front steps of that church building, we watched the sun come up on Easter Sunday morning.

I was just a child, and although I didn't understand all the history of the war, I knew enough to understand the power of what he told us:

"On Easter Day, 1945, I was liberated from a Nazi concentration camp, where I'd been held as a prisoner of war."

The tears began to trickle down his old, tough cheeks, and we stood quietly because there just wasn't anything else to be said.

Maybe, until we are in real pain, and in a situation beyond our own ability and resources, we may not fully understand the power of what it means to be "rescued."

Or, in his words, "liberated."

God's promise to his people...when exiled in Babylon or Assyria...or victims of genocide at Buchenwald...is one of rescue.

So many died. So many, seemingly, didn't find the rescue that God had promised. But I know that if that Saint of the Lord had died in that camp, he would have died with his faith in Jesus still intact.

Rescue would have come, and living or dying, he would have lifted his praises to God.

That good man faithfully led the little congregation in the singing of hymns every Sunday. He was not a gifted singer. The piano was badly out of tune, and played by a self-taught pianist.

Before that Easter morning, I sometimes wondered what kept him showing up each Sunday, without fail, decade on end.

He was thankful. And humble. And joyful.

He'd been rescued. Saved. Liberated.

May it be so for all of us.

Prayer: When we find ourselves in the shadow of darkness and the path of death, we pray for rescue, guidance and that our feet would find your path of peace. May you save us from temptation and deliver us from evil.

Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be. World without end, Amen.

Tomorrow's Scripture: Luke 23:33-38