The Remarkable Story of Corrie ten Boom
In a Church in Munich, Germany in 1947, a fat balding man in a gray overcoat clutched a brown felt hat as he walked down the aisle to the front of the sanctuary where an unassuming Dutch woman stood. He stretched out his hand toward her. She froze, caught off guard and stunned by the flood of emotions that momentarily drowned her sense of piety, as a wave of silent suspense swept over the room. Her heart was cold, iced over with a hatred few had ever known. Her eyes were glassy, and reflected rays of anger and resentment that pierced his soul as he stood exposed and vulnerable in an unenviable act of contrition. He had borne witness to fear many times before: the image of a mother’s eyes as she watched her infant daughter flail in pain while goons brutally took her life; of a husband’s face as he watched his wife and child herded to their deaths in the gas chambers; and the decrescendo of a girl’s cry as she succumbed to the soldiers’ animalistic acts of violation. But this time it was he who was gripped tenaciously with an all consuming fear, and he reasoned that he would rather be suffocating in a death chamber than looking into this woman’s eyes. As he stood there, he mustered the strength to push aside a wall of emotions and follow through with his purpose for being there. “Will you forgive me?” he asked as a tear welled up in his eye.
When Dr. Craig E Johnson wrote, “The terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001 reintroduced the word evil back into the national vocabulary.” he captured a social phenomenon that I have often pondered through the years since 9/11 (Johnson, pg. 105). Children of the seventies, like me, had never before experienced a generation defining tragedy. That is, an event so spectacularly heinous that it doesn’t just merely darken the moods of a few individuals, but rather provocatively arouses within the national consciousness an irrefutable, astounding and penetrating awareness that evil is real, ubiquitous, and intrinsic to the existence of humanity. It is an event with psychological and emotional effects that persist throughout the lives of those who witnessed it. It is a collective turning-point, and a milestone used to chronicle one’s life events by categorizing them before it and after it. For the children of the seventies, certainly 9/11 was one such event. Others had the assassination of President Kennedy, and still others before that had the bombing of
From this context, we can clearly see how prejudices, grudges and hatred easily grow, replicate, and consume generations. Consider these examples: the Americans who hate the Japanese for Pearl Harbor; the Japanese who hate the Americans for Nagasaki and Hiroshima; the Jews who hate the Germans for the holocaust; the Christians who hate the Jews for the death of Jesus; the Americans who hate the Arabs for 9/11; the Arabs who hate the Americans for defending the State of Israel. A quick glance at the current condition of diplomatic relations around the world proves that hatred is cyclical (Johnson, pg. 111). In fact, we could all find one reason or another to hate someone if we looked hard enough, but the consequences of harboring hatred are beyond most people’s ability to comprehend. The only possible product or outcome of deeply held feelings of hatred and prejudice is more hatred and prejudice. Breaking the cycle of hatred is crucial for long-term peace and happiness, and forgiveness is the only path to complete restoration.
The generation defining tragedy that is perhaps the most egregious act of evil in the history of humanity is the genocide of Jewish peoples in
On May 10, 1940, the Nazis invaded the
In February of 1944, a Gestapo agent disguised as a member of the Jewish advocacy and underground approached Corrie ten Boom in the family’s jewelry store with a contrived request for Corrie’s assistance in aiding some Jews who had avoided apprehension in the underground (tlogical.net, 2010). Corrie readily agreed to help the man, and in doing so exposed the family’s top secret operation in the rooms above the jewelry shop (tlogical.net, 2010). The ten Boom’s home was subsequently raided, and Corrie, her sister Betsie, and her father
This catharsis that swept through barrack 28 is a remarkable story of forgiveness in progress. Conventional wisdom tells us that there are four stages of forgiveness: uncovering, decision, work, and deepening (Johnson, pg. 116). In the uncovering stage, the victim grapples with the nature of the offense, assigns blame, and then cultivates anger and resentment over the unfairness of the situation. In the decision stage, one realizes that he is suffering emotionally and psychologically as a result of harboring such intense anger, and commits to forgiveness. In the work stage, the victim takes the perpetrator’s social, familial, and personal contexts into consideration, may even feel pity for them, and chooses suffering over retaliation and perpetuation of the cycle of evil. In the deepening stage, the victim finds purpose and meaning in their suffering and may even find new goals and objectives in life as a result of the offense, the suffering, and the resolution achieved through the act of forgiveness. Without question, the concentration camps were pressure cookers of hate toward the German occupiers who were perpetrating unfathomable crimes. Certainly many of the prisoners who were emaciated, frail, and a bread crumb away from death were not just dying a physical death, but also an emotional and psychological death fueled by the anger they concealed in their hearts. Corrie and her sister were able to help the other prisoners triumph over the self-consuming resentment because they had already traveled the road to forgiveness and knew the milestones along the way (tlogical.net, 2010). It is fascinating to consider that Corrie and Betsie’s work was a part of the deepening stage, and that through their efforts to help others overcome hate, they were consummating their own healings (tlogical.net, 2010).
On December 16, 1944, after Corrie had watched her little sister grow gradually weaker day by day, Betsie passed away (tlogical.net, 2010). Among her dying words were, “we must tell them what we have learned here (tlogical.net, 2010). We must tell them that there is no pit so deep that He is not deeper still (tlogical.net, 2010). They will listen to us, Corrie, because we have been here (tlogical.net, 2010)." Corrie often thought of her sister’s final wishes, and dreamed of honoring her by carrying their remarkable story to the world, just as her sister had asked. But she knew that, apart from a miracle of divine intervention, she would likely never again walk freely among liberated a people, as her own death was imminent, if not from starvation or illness, then certainly from the gas chamber. Not long after Betsie’s death, just as she had decided her life could produce no circumstances of greater fortuitousness, Divine Providence in fact intervened, and Corrie was unexpectedly and mysteriously released from Ravensbruck on New Year’s Eve of 1944 (tlogical.net, 2010). She would later learn that a clerical error had been made, and that her emancipation was completely inadvertent (tlogical.net, 2010).
Corrie returned to Amsterdam and attempted to reestablish a career in the watch and jewelry repair business, but Betsie’s dying words haunted her day and night (tlogical.net, 2010). With time, Corrie abandoned her career and began traveling, telling anyone who would listen what she had learned in the Ravensbruck concentration camp (tlogical.net, 2010). Corrie’s message resonated with the masses, and she began to receive invitations for speaking engagements from organizations all over the world (tlogical.net, 2010). For the last 30 years of her life, Corrie traveled the globe, wrote many books, and helped untold thousands to realize the power of forgiveness (tlogical.net, 2010).
To the world, and even to herself, it seemed as though she had beat her personal demons, that she had overcome resentment, and that she was prepared to stand as a shining example of the redeeming power of forgiveness. That is, until the day she faced her former captor in a church in
“But forgiveness is not an emotion,” she reasoned to herself (tlogical.net, 2010). “Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart,” she thought to herself as she closed her eyes, stretched out her hand, and forgave the most brutal guard at Ravensbruck (tlogical.net, 2010).
References
Johnson, C.E. (2009). Meeting the ethical challenges of leadership (third edition).
tlogical.net. (August 1, 2009). Biography of Corrie ten Boom. Retrieved from http://www.tlogical.net/bioboom.htm
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