Yad Vashem

Not going to lie, this field trip was my least favorite. Yad Va'shem is the Holocaust museum here in Israel, and I have some real emotional trouble with the Holocaust, so this post will be brief. I will document it because it was good for me to learn something from it, but I wouldn't go again. I'll give a little about the lessons that I learned, but I'm not going to say specifics about the torture or anything. I think that once the lesson is learned, there is no further need to try to absorb more horror. SO. Here are some things that I saw, learned, and experienced in this memorial.

We had a Holocaust survivor come and talk to us for a forum preceding our field trip to Yad Va'shem. His name was Elias Feikzilberg, and he was 96. He is one of the only Holocaust survivors left, I think. A lady in our ward is his caretaker and was kind enough to let us talk to him. He was born in 1917, one of seven children. I'm not going to try to recreate his narrative, but I'll give some of the notes that I remember. When the Nazis occupied Poland, he and his family were cautious, but they weren't truly afraid until one day his father came home with a bloodied face, because the Nazis had taken a knife and shaved his beard. The ghetto started in his hometown, but the Nazis wanted 400 men to go and work, so he left his family and signed up. He worked for 3 years in different concentration camps around the country (and other countries), and they had to do really hard labor without breaks or food, and they had to sleep in the snow. Eventually, somehow they let him out of labor, and he went back to his hometown in Poland, only to find that everyone in his family was gone. His father had died of starvation and disease in the ghetto, and his mothers and siblings had been deported to other concentration camps. He didn't have anything to do, so he went back to work. There were many times when he was close to death, but he somehow was chosen for life, or escaped. He was lined up in front of the Nazi doctors, and they chose him for life and not testing. The last place he went to, near the end of the war, they ordered all the Jews to get in the back of a car with a bunch of potato sacks. They drove up to a mountain thing, and were going to make the Jews carry the heavy sacks of potatoes up the mountain to a waterfall, and then get in the sacks and tie them and push them into the waterfall and canyon to kill them. The first group went up under the guard of the Nazis, but the Nazis never came back. Elias and the other Jews waited in the car for a long time, a couple of days, I think, and then finally Americans came down from the mountain, and  the Jews found out that the war was over and that the Americans were up by the waterfall and they had stopped the killing. They gave Elias a package with food and clothes, because he hadn't eaten for 3 weeks, and he ate it all that night (and got sick, which he remembered with a smile). He got a job working in a soup kitchen, handing out food to the refugees and other Jews. He said that he was only supposed to give certain rations, but he never obeyed those rules and he always gave everyone extra food. He said that he met his wife in the soup kitchen, and that she peeled potatoes. He said that he later found out that all of his family was killed in the concentration camps or ghettos, and he was the only one left. He and his new wife went to Argentina to live with an uncle, and then he moved to Israel when he was much older. From his hometown of 204,000, he was one of 10,000 that survived. He is the only Jew in the world to have survived through 9 different concentration camps. 

Elias, despite his terrible story, was an incredibly happy man. He said some things that really impacted me and made me think about how I react to my own situations and trials. He said that his happiness is his revenge on the Nazis--they did everything to take away his life and his happiness and quench his spirit, but they could not. He is still living, and he refuses to live in the misery that they wanted him to feel. He lives for his family, his posterity, his God, and finds joy in everything. He also said that Hitler was dead, but he was still alive. Hitler's Final Solution (extermination of the Jews), had failed, because he was alive and had a family, while Hitler was dead and hated. He also said that God gave him strength to survive, even when he wasn't aware of the help. I know that Elias wasn't the only Jew to  receive strength from God. And I know that it wasn't just those that survived that received strength from the Lord. The Lord blessed every single Jew with strength, whether they knew it or not, whether they survived or not. The Lord works in mysterious ways, but like Nephi, I do not know the meaning of all things, save that God loveth His children. 

To me, Elias is a hero. He is an example of rising above the bitterness of trial, and choosing to be happy with what experiences have taught him. He drew closer to God in the midst of his trials instead of drawing away and relying on his own arm for survival. He understands that true happiness and purpose comes with family. He knows that men are meant to have joy, and he makes a conscious effort every day to be happy, to not dwell on the horror and pain of his past. I really grew to love and appreciate this man in the hour that we spent with him, and when his story was over, we all stood and gave him a standing ovation. He smiled and waved, just like President Hinkley used to do. I know that God loves this man and preserved him for a purpose, and that God loves each of us and preserves us for a purpose. We can choose to be happy and grow from our trials, to always trust that the hand of the Lord is guiding our every step, that He is always mindful of us.

Yad Va'shem

First off, let's talk about the name of this place. Yad Va'shem   The name comes from a verse in Isaiah that says

I will give in my house and within my walls a monument and a name better than sons and daughters; I will give them an everlasting name that shall not be cut off. (Isaiah 56:6)

The idea of this title is that the Jews are promised a name and a memory in the hearts of the world. "An eternal memorial" is the translation that Ophir gave us. What a beautiful promise, considering that the Final Solution of Hitler was to exterminate the Jews from Europe, but the Lord promises them that they will not be cut off. The Lord is the real ruler of the world, and has the power to preserve His people. The promises of God cannot be altered by the wills of men, especially not men like Hitler. 

We were led by our Israel history teacher, named Ophir Yarden. He is a Jew, a wonderful man, an excellent teacher, and a very kind individual. At the beginning of the tour, Ophir talked to us about the history of how the Holocaust was received  Does that make sense? So right after WWII, people didn't talk about the Holocaust for many reasons. During the time of the Holocaust, the land of Palestine was under British Mandate. The first and second Aliyas had already happened (the literal meaning of Aliya is "to ascend", meaning both a spiritual and physical ascension  Jews immigrated to Palestine in response to the idea of Zionism, and there was a small-ish population of Jews already living in Palestine during WWII), and the Jews living in Palestine were ashamed to talk about the Holocaust. Why? Because after WWII, the people of Palestine (both Jew and Palestine alike, I think) fought against the British in a War of Independence in 1948. They valued the heroism and sacrifice of the soldiers in this war, and were proud that their people stood up to those who oppressed them and fought for that which was rightfully theirs. Ophir said that there was (and still is_ an Israeli Nationality that proclaims the idea that "We will be heroes and not victims!" The Holocaust wasn't spoken of because the 6 million Jews that were murdered were considered to be weak because they did not fight back. The people wanted to venerate heroes, not victims.

This is one of the first things we saw. It is a relief of the rebels of the Warsaw Rebellion, where the Jews of the Ghetto fought back against the Nazis. They all died, but they were heroes. The rebels are shown as strong, though starving. They have homemade weapons in their hands, though raggedly dressed. The people loved this idea of heroism, and depicted it in a glorious, detailed, larger-than-life manner. The name of this relief is "In your blood ye shall live." (a verse out of the Prophets)

Contrasted to the relief of the Warsaw Rebellion, which is centered in the middle of a large courtyard, a smaller relief is positioned out of the way. This relief is depicting those who submitted to the Nazis, and is titled "They went like sheep to the slaughter." Contrast the names of the monuments. It is a perfect example of how people felt about submission, fear, and doubt. It was looked down upon, it was something to be ashamed of. The people are downtrodden, fading. 

So what? Well, the Holocaust was NOT a part of the curriculum in the 1950's. It was something that people didn't want to talk about, that they didn't want to remember. However, that all changed when Adolf Aichmen (pardon the spelling) was hunted down by Israel and brought to trial in 1961-1962. He was a Nazi, living in hiding, and he was very close to Hitler. His job was to figure out the logistics of the Final Solution--he organized trains for the human cargo, death camps, etc. He was taken from Buenos Aires and put on a huge open trial in Israel, where people could come and sit and listen. The Holocaust and its horrors were out in the open, and in the words of Ophir, the issue went from "0-60" more quickly than we could imagine. There was a famous line said by the prosecutor of Aichmen that I really liked, and it goes something like this: "Judges of Israel, I stand before you not as a single individual, but with 6 million fingers pointing." Wow, what a powerful statement. He was convicted and executed for his crimes, but the Holocaust was now becoming a current issue.

There was another war going on in Israel some time after this, the Six Day War in 1967. During that war, Israel took Sinai and Gaza from Egypt, the West bank and Jerusalem from Jordan, and the Golan heights from Syria. HOWEVER, in the midst of that war, things weren't going well for Israel. Soldiers and citizens alike were digging foxholes to make a last stand and public parks were being dedicated for mass cemeteries. Soldiers were writing home and showing  weakness and terror, and the focus of people's thoughts began to shift from celebrating heroism to recognizing the very real feelings of doubt and defeat. They began to feel terror and despair for themselves, and understood that sometimes heroism wasn't possible. 

Fast forward in time--the Munich Olympic games were being held, and Germany was trying to restore their image after Hitler's Olympic games. A group of terrorists took the Israeli wrestling team hostage, and as it turns out, they were all killed. Later footage and reports said that they didn't struggle against their captors at all, which was unexpected  because they were world champion wrestlers. So Israeli society, through the war and the death of their national wrestling team, began to get rid of the prejudice and judgement against the idea of submission. 

I feel like that's an inadequate ending to this whole story, but that's where my notes end :) Long story a little longer, those who submit to the will of their captors are no longer thought of as weak--submission is a kind of heroism it itself. There were a bunch of examples of little exhibits through the museum that were stories of the heroism exhibited in submission. Here are some of the stories. 

This is a relief of Yehnosh Korchat and the children in his orphanage. He was a world renowned child specialist, and the Nazis wanted to deport all the children in his orphanage, but they were going to let him stay because of his fame. He wouldn't let his children go to the death camps alone, so he took the time to wash each child and dress them and put on their shoes, and then he went to the death camps and was killed with them. I think he is a hero for not letting those children die as orphans without someone to love them.

All around the museum are beautiful grounds with a hundred or more trees. As the Jews walk out of the museum and feel like the whole world hates them, they see all these beautiful trees. The walk through them is called "The Pathway of the Righteous," and each tree is planted in memory of a family or an individual who hid a Jew or helped them escape from the Nazis. It was a beautiful and inspiring walk to take, and I'm grateful that there was some redemption to that museum. I wondered if I would be brave enough to risk my life and house someone who was in trouble. I hope I would be.

I think this is a memorial to the soldiers of all nationalities who fought for the right. I think it's a beautiful tribute.

Irma Lauscher was a schoolteacher in a ghetto while the Nazis were trying to force the Jews to stop all their traditions. One of the Jewish festivals, Tuvish or something, has to do with planting trees and eating fruit and nature. Lauscher took her students behind the school and planted a tree, because she believed that in order to continue to be a faithful Jew, they had to observe that holiday. She taught her students the importance of staying true to their heritage, even at the risk of her own life. She died in the ghetto, but the tree survived, and a branch was brought to the museum to be planted in her memory. I hope that I will always have the courage to perform my own religious rituals, even if my life is at risk. 

This is a statue of Death carrying a child. I couldn't get the pic from the other side, unfortunately. This statue reminded me of one of my favorite books, "The Book Thief." I do not think that Death is such a bad thing--look how he carries the body of that child, so that the feet do not drag on the ground. Maybe Death is looking upward because he's offering the soul of that child into the loving arms of our Savior. I am reminded of a line from one of the hymns, "Upon the Cross of Calvary" #184: "Upon the cross [Christ] meekly died For all mankind to see/That death unlocks the passageway Into eternity." Death, horrible as it may seem, is a mercy, for it is the only way that we can again enter into the presence of our Heavenly Father.  

Here are some quotes that I wrote down from the museum that impacted me.

“This is a time for sanctifying life, not for sanctifying God’s name through death. In the past, our enemies demanded our soul, and the Jews sacrificed his body to sanctify God’s name. Now the enemy is demanding the Jew’s body, and the Jew is obligated to defend it-to protect this life."

--Rabbi Yitzhak Nissenbaum

I know that when I stand before God on Judgement Day, I shall not be asked the question posed to Cain--Where were you when your brother's blood was crying out to God?

 -- Imre Bathor

It's not that 6 million Jews were murdered. There were 6 million murders, and in each case, one Jew was murdered.

"A man who has nothing left in the world may still know bliss, be it only for a brief moment, in the contemplation of his beloved."  

 --Victor Frankl

First they came for the communists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.
Then they came for the socialists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a socialist.
Then they came for the trade unionists,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.
Then they came for the Jews,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew.
Then they came for the Catholics,
and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Catholic.
Then they came for me,

and there was no one left to speak for me. 

--Martin Niemoller

This is the view as you walk out of the museum. It's a view of Jewish settlements expanding and growing. It's a final statement to say that despite the efforts of Hitler, the Final Solution never worked. Jews are alive and flourishing, practicing their religion and waiting for the Messiah. 

Finally, if you're not sick of reading about Yad Va'shem yet, here's a little from my journal that day and what I experienced and felt and learned.

Well, today was really tough for me. We went to Yad Vashem, the Holocaust museum here. And you know how much suffering and destruction hurt my heart. I really dreaded going today, and I hate hate hate the cruelty of other people.  But I'm...not grateful, not glad, but recognize that it was an educational thing for me to do. It was really hard for me emotionally. We started off by going to the children's memorial. 1.5 million Jewish children were murdered in the Holocaust. Children. The memorial was really interesting--we walked into a building, and the pathway narrowed and got really dark. The room opened up into a giant room, completely black. There were little tea candles lit everywhere, and the room was made of glass, so these candles were reflected millions of times. It was like an eternal sky, but candles. It went on forever. There were no pictures, just a voice reading names. Something like "Isla Hernon, age 7, Poland." The name of the child, their age, and their hometown. Each name took 10 seconds to read, and the list takes half a year to complete. That's how many children were killed. Probably more than there were candles reflected. It was so hard for me to see. It was strange--the museum, of course, focused on the death camps and had the most horrific pictures of torture and twisted bodies and starvation and death and cruelty. But what got me most were the personal stories about how people lost their families. Children were ripped from the arms of their mothers, husbands and wives were separated, children were taken and put into gas chambers, families were split up, mothers couldn't feed their children--all the most horrible things you can imagine happened, and more than you could imagine. I don't understand people. I have no idea how the human mind, a creation of God, can be so twisted to the thoughts and works of the devil. The Holocaust was hell. We don't know hell until we talk to the people that have lived through a mortal hell, who have seen the worst side of humanity--not even humanity, absolute possession of evil. Those weren't humans that did that to the Jews. 

Two things got me the most--one was an account of a mother who saw her daughter raped and murdered. She was mourning for her daughter, her beautiful daughter who was so talented and lovely, who had so much life and love and so much to offer the world. She saw the person that she loved most be defiled and killed in the most brutal manner. This reminded me of my mom, and how she views me. It reminded me of how I'm going to view my own daughter someday. And it really was hard for me. The second account was of a woman who was going to be shot and put into a mass grave thing, but she escaped with only a wound in her arm, and as she was running away, she saw her own children get slaughtered and shot, and she saw her husband dying of his gun wounds in a pit. Within a matter of a few hundred feet, her entire life and love were taken away from her. This got me because I thought of Dan and my own family. I love them more than anything, and I think I realized that today. Every horrible account I saw, every account of separation of families, I couldn't bear the thought of being separated from them or watching them suffer. It hurt my soul more than I can express. I have realized the incredible and eternal importance of families since I've been here, and this is what is most horrible about the Holocaust. Not the physical torture, starvation, or humiliation. It's the torture of the heart, of seeing those that you love be hurt and killed. It's the pain of not knowing whether they live or not, of being uncertain of their condition, of having your own heart outside your body.

I'm sorry to talk about it, but it hurt me so much. I don't understand it. I don't understand how people can do that to others. I understand that every man has his agency and that others are affected by the choices that come with someone's agency, but it hurt me so bad. I can't deal with that kind of death and hopelessness. I came out of it really really distraught, but there are a few redeeming things that I have decided to focus on.

First of all, I am so grateful for eternal families. I could only take consolation in the thought that this life is but temporary, and if we are sealed together by the priesthood authority, we can be will all those that we love for eternity. People may torture, shoot, and break, but they do not have the power to break the covenants of God. Nobody does, for He extends His covenants farther than our faith. 

And the second thing is that the Savior loves each and every one of the people that were depicted in the museum. The Jews, yes, but he loves the soldiers, the death camp doctors, the murders, even Hitler himself. He loves those people just as much as He loves you and me. A few months ago, when I was in the temple, I was thinking, and all of the sudden I felt the most incredible overwhelming feeling that GOD LOVED HIS CHILDREN. It was too powerful for my body, and I couldn't stop crying. I knew that I was feeling the love that God has for his children, and that it was only the tiniest portion of his infinite love. I didn't understand why I was given this incredibly powerful warmth and revelation, but that memory has come to me time and time again. I need to remember that God loves all his children, and that the Savior loves us in this manner, enough that He would give up His own life for us. And His Atonement extends to all those people. I would like to think that the murderers of the Jews would be punished, be sent to Hell for what they did, but I would be no better than them if I wished it upon them. I saw the suffering of Hell today, and I would not wish it on anyone--not German Nazi, not Hitler himself. The Atonement extends to all, and I sincerely hope that every person memorialized in that museum takes advantage of it. There is a lot of blood to be washed out of the garments of those people, but the Atonement is thoroughly cleansing.