“…grant to those who mourn in Zion to give them a garland instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, the mantle of praise instead of a faint spirit; that they may be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that he may be glorified.”
Isaiah 61:3 (RSV)
My mother passed away seventeen years ago at the age of 92, but two years ago, one of her good friends passed away at the age of 102.
Although I learned of her death, too late to attend her funeral service, her family recorded the entire funeral service on YouTube. As I listened to each of her relatives give a touching eulogy, it was obvious that she lived a very gratifying, love filled life for the majority of her 102 years. I say the majority of her years, because her childhood was cruelly interrupted by the holocaust.
What I remember most about Elsa, my mother’s friend, was that she had numbers tattooed on her arm. She grew up in Hungary, during the Holocaust and was separated from her family, around the age of twelve, and sent to a concentration camp, while the rest of her entire family was killed by the Nazis.
I cannot recall the details of how she escaped death and made it safely to America, but she finally emigrated, married, and raised a family, settling in the Chicago area. She lived a long, good life here, although I’m sure she still carried with her, many sorrowful childhood memories.
I found it interesting that not one of her family’s eulogies made mention of her childhood experience in the concentration camp. At first I was perplexed by their neglect to mention that phase of her life. Each eulogy described who Elsa was to that family member, to her neices, nephews, children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. They all gave eulogies describing how much love she brought into their lives.
I realized that her early period of suffering was not being disregarded, but the person she had become since then, was so much greater and more meaningful than the tragedy she overcame. Her family obviously felt that who Elsa was, triumphed over whatever she suffered.
It then occurred to me, that God also intends for each of us to become someone much greater and more meaningful than the tragedies we have overcome.
People may go through unspeakable suffering in their lives, but through faith in God, they have the potential to become a pillar of love and strength for others. God is good and He turns our sorrow into joy, with immeasurable graces, as we keep trusting in Him. The Lord brings beauty out of the ashes and gives us the oil of gladness, which replaces a faint hearted spirit of mourning.
The numbers on Elsa’s arm were a permanent reminder of the evil that is in the world, but the life she lived for the following ninety years, reflected strength, love and the goodness of God. If ever there was a need in the world to grasp this message, it’s now.
Each one of us has the potential to become living proof to those around us, that God’s love and goodness overcomes all evil.
I didn’t know Elsa as well as my mother did, but both women had the same strong, positive and loving spirit, that left a huge impact on others. As I listened to the last and final eulogy, I imagined Elsa meeting my mother in heaven, and the two of them enjoying a warm embrace.
Lord, fill us with understanding and wisdom, to know that we are more than the sum of our tragedies. Bring forth beauty from our ashes, and let us be a reflection of your love, strength and goodness, to impact the lives of others. Amen