“Do
not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for thereby some have entertained
angels unawares.” (Hebrews 13:2)
And
when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you
clothing? And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” And
the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the
least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” – Jesus
(Matthew 25:38-40)
Mercy
is hard. Mercy can be dangerous.
On
an August morning in 1942, three buses rumbled up the road to the French
mountain village of Le Chambon. The buses were accompanied by police cars,
police of the Vichy government which, in league with the Nazis had sent them to
gather up Jews and take them back to concentration camps. The officials knew
that the village of Le Chambon was a major hiding place and way station for
Jews seeking to escape the Holocaust. When they arrived, the police captain
confronted Pastor André Trocmé (1901-1971), the spiritual leader of the
village.
The
policeman went to Pastor Trocmé and asked, “Are you hiding Jews in this
village?”
Pastor
Trocmé, committed to truth-telling responded, “Yes.”
The
policeman ordered, “Give us their names.”
Pastor
Trocmé replied, “To be honest, I don’t know their names.”
“Show
me where they are,” the policeman insisted.
Pastor
Trocmé said, “No, I won’t do that. They are my brothers and I am commanded by
my Lord to love my neighbor.”
The
police then searched the village. They were unable to find any Jews or anyone
who would identify a Jew. They left in frustration, warning Pastor Trocmé and
the others that they would be watching and they would be back. Indeed, the
villagers were hiding Jews. They hid the refugees in private homes, on farms in
the area, as well as in public institutions. Whenever the Nazi patrols came
searching, the Jews were hidden in the mountainous countryside.
Refugeee children in Le Chambon
The
story of Pastor Trocmé and the villagers of Le Chambon is inspiring. You can
read about it in the book Lest Innocent Blood Be Shed by Philip Hallie or watch
a documentary, Weapons of the Spirit: The Astonishing Story of a Unique
Conspiracy of Goodness. You can watch a shorter video here.
In
the midst of a world gone mad, in the midst of the darkness of the Nazi terror
engulfing Europe, these villagers chose to be light in the darkness. Because
they were committed to following Jesus, these common people risked much to
extend the mercy of hospitality to strangers. They knew what they were risking.
To be caught harboring Jews, or helping them escape, not only put your own life
or livelihood at risk but the lives and livelihood of all your family. Even
children of rescuers were often sent to concentration camps. As far as the
Nazis were concerned, if you wanted to be the friend of Jews, you could share
their fate. It was all the same to the Nazis. In fact, some of the residents
were arrested by the Gestapo including Pastor Trocmé's cousin, Daniel Trocmé,
who was sent to a concentration camp, where he was murdered.
One
of the enduring scandals for the Church is that so many Christians in Europe
chose to play it safe. And some even collaborated with the Nazis.
The
villagers of Le Chambon believed extending hospitality to refugees was a risk
worth taking. They risked their lives and the lives of their children because
they would rather take that risk than play it safe.
The
mercy of hospitality is always risky, even in contexts less dangerous than the
example of Le Chambon. If you invite strangers – or family or friends for that
matter – into your home, you cannot guarantee that your home will be the same
afterward. Perhaps something will go missing. Perhaps some mud will get tracked
in, something will get spilled or broken. Welcoming the stranger into out congregations
is similarly risky. At the very least strangers can be inconvenient. And their
presence changes things. And allowing strangers into our own lives, our own
hearts is risky. Perhaps they will not be what we want them to be. Perhaps our
hearts will get broken. At the very least, they will mess with the way we
understand ourselves and the world.
It
would be easier – and safer – to keep the stranger at a distance. But, that is
not the way of mercy. That is not the way of Jesus. The way of Jesus sees in
the face of the stranger the face of Jesus himself. To ignore or turn away the
stranger is to ignore or turn away Jesus. Because Christians love Jesus and
desire to welcome Jesus more and more into their lives, they have no choice but
to show hospitality to strangers. Even at the risk of their own comfort or
safety. Pastor Trocmé and the people of Le Chambon understood that. I am
grateful for their faithful witness. I pray the Church today might follow their
example and be a conspiracy of goodness extending the mercy of hospitality to
the stranger, however risky that may be.
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