Holocaust survivor Irving Roth spoke to our group yesterday for about five hours. I’d read some of his book, Bondi’s Brother, before the class the night before. One thing I had a question about was his faith. Before this, in other reading, namely, The World Must Know, and also at the Jewish Heritage Museum, I’d taken note of something referred to in one way or another as “spiritual resistance.” I understand this to be when the victims of the Holocaust began to experience persecution many responded by turning to their faith traditions. It seems to me to be a spiritual circling of the wagons in not simply defense but in strength.
For Irving Roth, he described turning to his faith as a boy of about 10, as events in his Hungarian town turned increasingly difficult for Jews: people being fired from their jobs, and children being turned away at their school gates, for example. Irving described praying in bed.
After thousands of Jews were shipped off on trains and only those who were critical to the economy of the city were allowed to stay, Irving describes an auction of his rabbi’s home furnishings taking place. At the end of the auction, there was a book burning of the rabbi’s library, including many books of the Talmud. Watching from afar, this boy darted to the fire and snatched one of the biggest books off the fire and ran home with it, the heat from fire pressed to his chest.
His faith was a conviction, not just a practice, like mine. His behavior was an expression of his faith too. His actions not pre-meditated, un-prompted, and without witness of those of his own faith.
So I asked him about how his faith changed, how was it tested, and what did he observe of others who had faith and those who didn’t at Auschwitz.
“Some say God died at Auschwitz,” a seminar facilitator said. Irving did not respond. His eyes remained bright and he moved on to other information.
In the book, Irving’s son refers to his father as an irrepressible optimist. Irving went on to survive, clearly. He went on to invent the Doppler 2000 weather radar that most of our weather forecasters use.
My question about faith is a self-generated question that I carry with me. I think it began when the student at Columbine faced the barrel of a gun and refused to defy her God and was then murdered.
I remember writing a story for the U.S. Postal Service about a mail carrier in Nashville in the early ‘90s. A beautiful man past retirement age, Frank had the best driving record in the history of the postal service. As he took me down the streets in his mail truck, one hand clenching a Whopper, he told me the life stories of people in the neighborhood. At one point on the freeway toward the end of our time together, he asked me what I saw ahead of us. I told him I saw a blue minivan. Then, he told me what cars he saw and how they were arranged up to a quarter mile ahead and what dangers they could present to him. He continued by telling me what could potentially happen and what he’d do in the event that something “unexpected” did happen. He had a plan. That’s the critical point. Thinking about situations and what your action plan is. I like that. I’ve thought about that walking down Broadway with some of my colleagues. If something would happen, how would I respond. Be ready, I thought.
This is all good. Growing a faith practice is good for a lot of reasons, I believe. But I think Irving Roth was made the man he was at birth. A survivor. Intelligent. And of course he worked hard all the way from plowing fields behind a horse as part of his forced labor every day for 16 hours to a remarkable career that continues to unfold today. He said man has free choice but I’m not sure what choice he had other than the road of dignity, belief in God and in himself that he would see another day he would get much more than a cup of coffee in the morning, soup at lunch, and a crust of bread at night.
Thank God he did too and is sharing with me and so many others his spirit.
As for my inquiry, I will continue to gather information, watch people and read. It’s a life project. I don’t know if I’ll have to make a split-second decision that I hadn’t anticipated. I’m counting on a little help.
Later that night, I prayed with Irving Roth, my co-educators at the Holocaust Educators Network, and other worshippers at Shaaray Tefila synagogue. So much music and praying beautiful prayers. I was a bit hesitant to attend and eager at the same time. I don’t like to be a tourist of others’ sacred experience. I don’t want to feel like a gawker; I don’t want to detract or lessen an experience I know I may not understand or fully appreciate. I don’t want to disrespect what I consider not only sacred but also largely personal.
But at the synagogue we were welcomed over and over again. And we prayed and clapped and sang and then we all ate and sang some more.
