I don’t feel in anybody’s clutches, I feel safe in God’s arms; and whether I’m sitting at this beloved old desk now or in a concentration camp under armed guards, I shall always feel safe in God’s arms.” These are words scribbled in a diary by Etty Hillesum, a 27-year old university professor killed in a concentration camp in Auschwitz in 1943. Her dairy — published as An Interrupted Life — heralds the triumph of forgiveness over vengeance, love over hate and life over death.
Etty’s writing is full of faith and fortitude. “God, take me by your hand, I shall follow you dutifully, and not resist too much. I shall evade none of the tempests life has in store for me, I shall try to face it as best I can... I shall try to spread some of my warmth, of my genuine love for others, wherever I go… I don’t want to be anything special, I only want to try to be true to that in me which seeks to fulfil its promise.”
Amidst suffering and death, she writes: “They may well succeed in breaking me physically, but no more than that. I may face cruelty and deprivation the likes of which I cannot imagine in even my wildest fantasies. Yet all this is nothing compared to the immeasurable expanse of my faith in God and my inner receptiveness.” Of the inner life she muses: “We seek the meaning of life, wondering whether any meaning can be left. But that is something each one of us must settle with oneself and with God. And perhaps life has its own meaning even if it takes a lifetime to find it.”
Later, she writes: “If you have a rich inner life, there probably isn’t all that much difference between the inside and the outside of a (concentration) camp. I am not really frightened of anything.” Etty refuses to become a victim of hate: “Yes, it’s too easy to turn your hatred lose on the outside, to live for nothing but the moment of revenge... Despite all the suffering and injustice, I cannot hate others.” She breathes hope: “One day we shall be building a whole new world; against every new outrage and every fresh horror we shall put up one more piece of love and goodness, drawing strength from within ourselves.”
“Every encounter is also a farewell... Every day I shall say farewell. And the real farewell, when it comes, will only be a small outward confirmation of what has been accomplished within me from day to day.” Aren’t these wonderful words from someone who did whatever was possible to fight evil, and yet inspires us to feel safe in God’s arms?
Francis Gonsalves is a professor of theology. He can be contacted at fragons@gmail.com
