Tag Archive | Shoah

When Brothers Don’t Get Along

On December 4, 2015, the B’Ney Yosef Region 35 Conference convened at Camp Copass in Denton, Texas, for the purpose of bringing together people in the central part of the United States to seek YHVH’s direction about His Kingdom work at this time.  The initial concept was to continue in the spirit of the First B’Ney Yosef National Congress in the interest of building Ephraimite (Israelite) identity among believers in Messiah Yeshua.  The Holy Spirit quickly expanded that concept into a call for repentance within the Hebrew Roots/Two House movement and reconciliation with other parts of the body of Messiah, particularly with our Christian brethren.  That was the motivation for this address which opened the conference.

BFB151204 MNF-IThe best boss I ever had was the man under whose supervision I served the last time I was in Iraq.  He was also the most profane man I have ever met.  The name of Jesus Christ was for him but one weapon in a formidable arsenal of expletives.  Not a single day passed that some outrage did not fall from his lips, causing my ears to burn and my heart to wonder how long I would have to endure such offense.  And yet I continued in his service, not merely because I had no choice (both of us, after all, were soldiers assigned to serve together), but because God gave me grace to look beyond the offense to see and benefit from the substantial qualities he possessed.  Those qualities included an encyclopedic knowledge of intelligence functions and procedures based on decades of hard experience.  He possessed as well a dogged determination to persevere through all opposition and achieve success in whatever goal he or his superiors established.  That determination sprang from his undying loyalty to the United States of America, and to his belief in the ultimate good of our mission in Iraq.  Yet none of that would have mattered in the least had this man lacked the greatest quality of all:  he regarded every person as having intrinsic value, and as a potential ally in achieving the goals set before him.  He may have spoken roughly, and even in private moments vented his frustration and anger, but he never diminished the value of the human beings in his charge, nor of those under whom he served.

We had occasion to work with military and civilian officials from a number of services and agencies.  Whether they were Army like us, or Marines, Air Force, or Navy, they were all “great Americans” in my boss’s opinion – if for no other reason than because they had volunteered to wear the uniform and be deployed to a Middle Eastern war zone.  He could not call our British, Australian, and German colleagues “great Americans”, but he did hold them in high esteem – while at the same time recognizing that the highest priorities for each of them were the interests of their own nations, not those of the United States.  The true professionals among us, regardless of nationality, recognized this.  We knew that at times there would be questions we could not ask and answers we could not give, but whenever and wherever possible we helped one another.

That “great American” description did extend to the civilian intelligence professionals we encountered.  Those men and women represented nearly all of the 16 agencies of the U.S. Intelligence Community.  The ones you would expect were all there:  each of the agencies of the military services, the Defense Intelligence Agency (DIA), the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), the National Security Agency (NSA), the National Geospatial Intelligence Agency (NGIA), the Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), and the State Department.  Our office dealt mostly with the CIA, whom my boss lovingly called, “Klingons”.  Like our foreign counterparts, they, and all the other intelligence agencies, had their own priorities which were not necessarily the same as ours in the Department of Defense.  Their vision of how to support the national interests of the United States sometimes clashed with ours, and the means and resources at their disposal often put them at an advantage over us.  We had much reason to distrust them, but we had even more reason to work with them – just as the Start Trek heroes found reason to cooperate with the Klingons to defeat their common enemies.

We laugh at the description of the CIA as Klingons, but long before I arrived in Iraq I understood exactly what my boss meant.  Early in my tenure in Washington, DC, I had occasion to work with the CIA on a joint project.  Most of the people with whom I worked were intelligence analysts, people not very different from myself.  They were well educated, often from privileged backgrounds, highly academic (a reflection of the CIA culture), and professionally courteous.  As part of our project we had to consult with a different type of CIA employee.  This person was not an analyst.  Intelligence analysts look at information from various sources and put it together in different ways to understand what it means.  They are the friendly face of the CIA.  There is another face, however, and it is not very friendly.  That face belongs to the operators, the men and women who go about the difficult business of collecting the information.  They are consummate professionals, very good at what they do, but they are not the kind of people you would want in your social circle.  Quite often the name by which they introduce themselves is not the name their parents gave them at birth.  In the course of their duties they will have to do some questionable things, and perhaps even some very unpleasant things, to acquire information their agency has commissioned them to gain.

This was the kind of person with whom we met in that office on the CIA campus in Langley, Virginia long ago.  He was an impressive man, and one whom I admired for his courage and devotion to his country.  I could tell without asking that he had suffered much personal loss in service to the nation, and that my own poor service paled in comparison to his.  Yet we could not be friends, and we would have difficulty working together as colleagues.  His world was one I could not enter, and my world was one he would not find comfortable.  Nevertheless, my work could not continue without him, and without me his work would have no meaning.  That is why I have never forgotten the man, although our paths have never crossed since that day.

BFB151204 US Intelligence CommunityWhat would happen if this vast intelligence community in the service of the United States of America ceased to function as designed?  What if the various individuals and organizations within it forgot that they were all Americans, and instead placed their own personal agendas, or the name and reputation of their own agencies and services, above the interests of the country?  That is not a rhetorical question; I can tell you what would happen.  I have seen it.  What happens is a fragmentation of the national intelligence establishment. 

For the most part that establishment consists of good, honest people trying to do the best they can with limited resources and time.  They have a tendency to focus exclusively on the work right in front of them, whether it is office administration, counterterrorism analysis, national technical means of information collection, the number of tanks in the Russian Far Eastern Military District, or poppy production in Afghanistan.  They forget that there is a wider world out there, and that their work is but one small piece in a very, very big puzzle.  It does not take much to convince them that their piece is the most important.  Once convinced, it is but a small step toward competing with others to gain a greater share of attention and resources.  Having entered that arena, it is nothing to begin pushing others aside in ever more aggressive ways, taking resources and people away from them so that one’s own piece of the puzzle grows in size and importance, and the competitors’ pieces shrink, or disappear altogether.  In time the picture that emerges is distorted at best, magnifying certain things to the extreme, diminishing others, and ignoring important bits that would otherwise tie together the seemingly contradictory reports from various sources.  That is the picture which goes before high level decision makers like the commanders of our forces in the Middle East, and even the President himself.  Is it any wonder, therefore, that we have national disasters such as the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001?

My lesson from this should be clear.  National defense is a team effort.  I know my part of the effort, and my job is to do it to the best of my ability.  I do not know most of the millions of others involved in the effort, nor do I understand what they do.  I could not do what most of them do, nor could most of them do what I do.  Very few of them could be considered my friends, and most of them would probably never want to associate with me anyway.  Nevertheless, we need each other:  every warrior, every clerk, every mechanic, every technician, every lawyer, every cook, every aviator, every logistician, every sanitation worker.  If we do not find a way to cooperate, then this living, breathing organism we call the National Defense Establishment will fail, and with its failure the United States of America fails.

Is this any different from the living, breathing organism known as the Body of Messiah?

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What I Saw in Auschwitz

The 70th Anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz is the cause of much reflection and remembrance.  A list of events and much more information is available at http://70.auschwitz.org/.

The world will pause on January 27, 2015, to remember the 70th Anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz.

One generation ago, on January 27, 1945, the Red Army liberated the Polish town of Oświęcim.  The world has come to know that town not by its Polish name, but by the name its Nazi German occupiers called it:  Auschwitz.  This account of my visit to Auschwitz is offered again in memory of the 1.1 million human beings whose voices were stilled there.


 

On January 18, 1997, I had opportunity to visit the death camp at Auschwitz.  This is the story of that visit.  I publish it now as a necessary reminder of what has happened before, for without such reminders we would be only too quick to let it happen again.

Admiral Miklós Horthy Regent of Hungary

Admiral Miklós Horthy
Regent of Hungary

Admiral Miklós Horthy was not high on the list of Adolf Hitler’s favorite people.  He had proven a lukewarm ally throughout the war.  Even though Horthy’s Hungarian legions had fought bravely alongside the Wehrmacht in the Soviet Union since 1941, Horthy’s government had never given its unqualified support to the Nazi regime.  A particularly sore point was that the Hungarians refused to surrender their Jewish citizens for deportation.  True, the leaders in Budapest had enacted repressive laws against Jews, but they never permitted the Germans to gain any measure of control over Hungary’s Jewish population.  Consequently, Hungary became a place of refuge for Jews from Romania and other nations whose governments were far less willing to defy Hitler.

Perhaps the Führer would have overlooked Horthy’s insolence in this matter of the Jews had this been the only matter of concern.  Yet events during the spring of 1944 brought this and other issues to a head.  By March of that year, the Red Army had thrown the Nazi invaders almost completely out of Soviet territory.  In the West, the Allies threatened to invade France as soon as the weather proved favorable.  Such disagreeable developments merely underscored Hitler’s compelling need for full cooperation from all his allies.  Since Admiral Horthy would neither listen to reason nor acquiesce to demands, Hitler employed other means to ensure Hungary displayed the appropriate measure of National Socialist ardor.  German soldiers accordingly occupied Hungary late in March.  Although they left Horthy in control of Budapest and its surrounding region, the remainder of the country fell completely under Nazi control.

The fears of Hungary’s Jews soon became reality as the Fascists implemented the Führer’s orders.  Over the summer of 1944, 300,000 Jews found themselves crammed into cattle cars and shipped off to some faraway place.  The Nazis told them they were to be resettled in the conquered lands of the East.  Some believed the lie, either out of naiveté or out of the need for a hope of an end to the nightmare that had fallen upon their world.  Some did not believe it.  Some even whispered of the rumors that the Nazis had built a death factory and were herding all the Jews into it.

Admiral Horthy heard these rumors as well.  He was no lover of Jews, but he was a refined gentleman.  He was also a realist who understood what was happening to his country.  An appeal from Pope John XXIII on behalf of the Jews helped to sway Horthy’s mind, and late in June he reasserted control over all of Hungary.  Thanks to this, and to Allied bombing of Budapest, the deportations stopped for a brief time – but only a brief time.  The Germans soon put Horthy in his place, and removal of the Jews resumed.  Horthy protested and resisted up to the moment the Nazis arrested him in October, but to no avail.  By the time the Red Army smashed into Budapest in late December, almost all of the Jews who had sheltered within Hungary’s borders were gone.  Most of them were dead.

The story is true.  I know.

I saw where they died.

The place is called Auschwitz.

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Commonwealth and Cooperation

This paper was presented on September 8, 2012 at a conference hosted jointly by Healing Tree International and Israel Arise at Hershey, PA, and again on May 25, 2013, at a fellowship hosted by Proclaiming Justice to the Nations in Franklin, TN.

140103 Pink Elephant BalloonPink Elephants

Most people have experience the peculiar phenomenon of the pink elephant in the living room, that awkward situation in which a group of people are confronted with an obvious, but uncomfortable, issue.  Because it is obvious everyone knows or suspects what the others are thinking, yet because it is uncomfortable no one is willing to address it.  Therefore the issue goes unresolved and the relationships within the group, however cordial, remain tense, fragile, and shallow.

My purpose is to address the pink elephants that keep Jews and Christians from cooperating in a spirit of mutual trust and support, touching on areas of disagreement and misunderstanding that have bedeviled us for centuries.  The intent is not to pour salt old wounds, but to move through the uncomfortable territory and arrive at common ground where we may stand together as one people united in the service of the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.  This journey is beset with many openings for offense.  Given the likelihood that I shall stray into one of those openings, I ask in advance for pardon, for no offense is intended.  I am confident that if we persevere together, we will overcome the awkwardness and find the common ground which we desperately need in this critical hour.

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What I Saw in Auschwitz

On January 18, 1997, I had opportunity to visit the death camp at Auschwitz.  This is the story of that visit.  I publish it now as a necessary reminder of what has happened before, for without such reminders we would be only too quick to let it happen again.

Admiral Miklós Horthy Regent of Hungary

Admiral Miklós Horthy
Regent of Hungary

Admiral Miklós Horthy was not high on the list of Adolf Hitler’s favorite people.  He had proven a lukewarm ally throughout the war.  Even though Horthy’s Hungarian legions had fought bravely alongside the Wehrmacht in the Soviet Union since 1941, Horthy’s government had never given its unqualified support to the Nazi regime.  A particularly sore point was that the Hungarians refused to surrender their Jewish citizens for deportation.  True, the leaders in Budapest had enacted repressive laws against Jews, but they never permitted the Germans to gain any measure of control over Hungary’s Jewish population.  Consequently, Hungary became a place of refuge for Jews from Romania and other nations whose governments were far less willing to defy Hitler.

Perhaps the Führer would have overlooked Horthy’s insolence in this matter of the Jews had this been the only matter of concern.  Yet events during the spring of 1944 brought this and other issues to a head.  By March of that year, the Red Army had thrown the Nazi invaders almost completely out of Soviet territory.  In the West, the Allies threatened to invade France as soon as the weather proved favorable.  Such disagreeable developments merely underscored Hitler’s compelling need for full cooperation from all his allies.  Since Admiral Horthy would neither listen to reason nor acquiesce to demands, Hitler employed other means to ensure Hungary displayed the appropriate measure of National Socialist ardor.  German soldiers accordingly occupied Hungary late in March.  Although they left Horthy in control of Budapest and its surrounding region, the remainder of the country fell completely under Nazi control.

The fears of Hungary’s Jews soon became reality as the Fascists implemented the Führer’s orders.  Over the summer of 1944, 300,000 Jews found themselves crammed into cattle cars and shipped off to some faraway place.  The Nazis told them they were to be resettled in the conquered lands of the East.  Some believed the lie, either out of naiveté or out of the need for a hope of an end to the nightmare that had fallen upon their world.  Some did not believe it.  Some even whispered of the rumors that the Nazis had built a death factory and were herding all the Jews into it.

Admiral Horthy heard these rumors as well.  He was no lover of Jews, but he was a refined gentleman.  He was also a realist who understood what was happening to his country.  An appeal from Pope John XXIII on behalf of the Jews helped to sway Horthy’s mind, and late in June he reasserted control over all of Hungary.  Thanks to this, and to Allied bombing of Budapest, the deportations stopped for a brief time – but only a brief time.  The Germans soon put Horthy in his place, and removal of the Jews resumed.  Horthy protested and resisted up to the moment the Nazis arrested him in October, but to no avail.  By the time the Red Army smashed into Budapest in late December, almost all of the Jews who had sheltered within Hungary’s borders were gone.  Most of them were dead.

The story is true.  I know.

I saw where they died.

The place is called Auschwitz.

Please click here to continue reading

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