“Pray for those who mistreat you.”
—Gospel of Luke, chapter 6:28
In the late 1930’s the distinguished chief rabbi of the Polish village of Prochink was in the habit of taking long, invigorating walks into the countryside. The rabbi, who was known for his warm, loving, and compassionate ways, always made a point of greeting everyone whose path he crossed, Jew and non-Jew alike, and, adhering to a Talmudic dictum, always tried to greet them first.
One of the people he regularly greeted on his daily walks was a man by the name of Herr Mueller, whose farm lay on the outskirts of the town. Every morning, Rabbi Shapira would pass the farmer as he diligently worked in his fields. The rabbi would nod his head and expansively boom in a hearty voice, “Good morning Herr Mueller!”
When the rabbi had first embarked on his morning constitutional and had begun greeting Herr Mueller, the farmer would turn away in stony silence. Relations between Jews and non-Jews in this village were not particularly good, and friendships were rare. But Rabbi Shapira was not deterred or discouraged. Day after day, he would greet the silent Herr Mueller with a hearty hello, until, finally convinced of the rabbi’s sincerity, the farmer began returning the greeting with a tip of his hat and a hint of a smile. This routine went on for many years, and finally stopped when the Nazis came.
Rabbi Shapira and his family were transferred from one concentration camp to the next until they reached the final destination point: Auschwitz. As he disembarked from the train, he was ordered to join the line where selection was taking place. Standing in the back of the line, he saw from a distance the camp commandant’s baton swing left, swing right. He knew that left signified certain death, but right bought time and possible survival.
His heart palpitating, he drew closer to the commandant as the line surged forward. He was one person away from the man in charge of the selection, the man whose arbitrary decision could send him into the flames. Despite his own fear, he looked curiously, almost boldly into the face of the commandant as his turn was called. At that moment, the man turned to glance at him, and the eyes locked.
Rabbi Shapira said quietly, “Good morning, Herr Mueller!” Herr Mueller’s eyes, cold and unfathomable, twitched for a fraction of a second. “Good morning, Herr Rabiner!” he answered, also very quietly.
And then he swung his baton forward. “Recht” he shouted with a barely perceptible nod. “Right” to…Life!
—Samuel Sharpira
Comment:
Never underestimate the power of a simple “Hello” or a smile. It could save your life as Rabbi Sharpira discovered in Auschwitz. That is why Jesus says: “Pray for those who mistreat you.” A simple, kind gesture can melt the heart of the most hardened enemy or sinner.
—Fr. Hugh Duffy
3 Comments
Larry Frey
Great story. I read a book by ;Victor Frankl, Mans search for meaning! I believe he was in Aushwitz. In the book, one quote said; There are two types of people at this camp, one who invented the gas chamber, and the other saying, The Lords Prayer, while walking into it! Mr. Frankl has gained friedships with guards who were in that prison camp.Yes, Father, even a small jesture could save your life!
Rhett Palmer
I will admit I am a very imperfect human. I also recognize
that I have always had “ favor” from The Lord despite
my foibles. I have always greeted strangers with warm greetings. I learned here the Talmud dictates us to be the first to greet others. So all this time ,perhaps,my love for people has been pleasing to my Father above.
Judith San Nicolas
One of the darkest and hardest parts of our history was full of angels, like this Rabbi, and many others that gave us the most important life lessons. On those times converged the worst and the best o f human being. Which is paradoxical.
That should give us pause for thought.
Thank for share this emotional story.