"Eva": Peace. Humanity. Forgiveness. A Film You Must See

I went to a film premiere last evening. That's not something I often do. Peggy Tierney, a good friend and fellow Quaker, gave Nancy and me tickets to the premiere of "Eva," the story of a remarkable woman.

Nancy and I knew some of Eva Mozes Kor's story. We had visited her CANDLES Holocaust Museum in Terre Haute, Indiana where she met with us. And I'd read (and blurbed) her book Surviving the Angel of Death: The True Story of A Mengele Twin in Auschwitz published by my friend Peggy's Tanglewood Publishing. It's a powerful book for readers from 6th grade on through adult.

Despite this I was not prepared for the effect being at the premiere had on me.

At one level it was a very nice evening. I enjoyed seeing friends and learning more about the production of the film. And as the film progressed it was grand to see Peggy and her son Gabriel featured in the film, along with my rabbi friends Sandy and Dennis Sasso.

Peggy had told me that Gabriel's going with Eva to Auschwitz changed his life. It was good to hear him tell that story himself.  Gabriel was a natural on screen -- so composed, well-spoken, and passionate. My favorite line of his was, "Eva's a 4'9" badass!"

The Sassos both talked about how forgiveness is at the heart of Judaism (other theologians/rabbis in the film disagreed), citing the opening prayer of Yom Kippur. Sandy, though, noted that not everyone can pray it or forgive others of the sins committed against themselves. I especially appreciated her comments (as I recall them) about how criticizing others who can't forgive is not helpful or good. I certainly can understand why some of the victims feel unable to forgive. While I hope that I could, flawed as I am, I'm not certain I could.

The film, though certainly presenting Eva as a heroic figure, pulled no punches. She is portrayed not as a saint but as a real life woman who suffered horribly (her parents and two of her sisters were killed in the camp and her twin died as a result of Nazi "experiments" performed on her) and who eventually learned the power of forgiveness. The film shows Eva's life as an angry activist, pushing countries and media to search for Dr. Mengele, disrupting the "nice" Holocaust memorials (she was arrested at one in the US Capitol rotunda), and more. It tells how she came to forgive and why. The film also interviews other survivors who vehemently disapprove of her forgiveness stance. It showed Eva's work since to promote forgiveness, healing, and peace as the way this world needs to go. The film shows her moving from anger to love, all the while never forgetting what she and the others interred in those camps endured. She bears witness both to the evils and horrors of Nazi brutality and to the power of forgiveness.

This film shows how Eva models the truth of Quaker William Penn's statement, "Force may subdue, but love gains, and he that forgives first wins the laurel", the laurel, in Eva's case, being a release of the anger and bitterness that was consuming her. It is a story of triumph of the human spirit when it's empowered by reconciliation and forgiveness -- even in the face of the unforgivable.

Eva is a powerhouse -- and a scamp. She has a delightful sense of humor, speaks her mind (often without a filter), and feels she has lots of work still do (at 84). She gave remarks after the film and our Governor, Eric Holcomb, who also appears in the film presented her with a bouquet and a big hug (he's 6'6" -- so quite a contrast between the two).

This powerful film deserves a wide viewership. It will be in film festivals around the US and world and hopefully distributed to movie theaters and PBS stations (the producers and sponsor are working on distribution deals). It will be on WFYI-TV in Indianapolis on October 25.



The film's website says:

Eva Mozes Kor
At 10, she survived experiments by Nazi doctor Josef Mengele. 

At 50, she helped launch the biggest manhunt in history.
Now 83, after decades of pain and anger, she travels the world to promote what her life journey has taught:
Peace. Humanity. Forgiveness.

Peace. Humanity. Forgiveness. Three things this world so desperately needs. Thank you, Eva.

Step into the troubled waters...

Step into the troubled waters

the angel left for you--
the trembling unknown,
the unchartered depth.
The body descending
blurs in the refraction
of sacred Light.

"Bethsaida" by Nancy Compton Williams

Source: The Penwood Review

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Fifty Acres and a Fool: Rain and Redemption

"No rain in sight."  Hmmm.  How my perspective on that phrase has changed.

It used to be I longed to hear it.  Especially on weekends, when I had time off to go golfing, put the top down on the old MG, or just generally have fun.  Even after I began tending the farm I often looked forward to those words -- they meant that I would have unbroken hours to get the mowing and other chores done.

But this spring I am watching the sky with hope and the dry dirt with alarm.  That's because there are zillions of tiny seeds planted in that ground by my friend Dan "Woody" Wood and I.  Rain is need to help them sprout and grown.  And there's no rain in sight.

We planted the seed at the very end of April.  Since then, we've had a little over two inches of rain -- in a month that normally sees 5+ inches.  We've had lots of sun, hot weather, and warm breezes.  All good and necessary things.  But, without rain, the fields that were seeded are drying out.  I walk those fields almost every evening, killing poke berry, thistle, and briars and scanning the seeding rows for signs of sprouts.  They are few and far between -- and that is a reality, not a cliche. 

Late yesterday afternoon and early evening I heard the sound of distant thunder.  A friend came to worship and reported that his freshly washed car was rained on while coming there.  I was jealous.  Not a drop fell on the farm.  The tantalizing sound of thunder was like an false-hearted lover's empty teasing. 

Finally, in the early early morning hours, rain fell.  One-tenth of an inch.  Better than none, but still not nearly as much as I hoped for. 

As I drove by the fields on the way to work this morning, I noticed that the rain was just enough to help make soybeans sprout in the field next to mine.  And I rejoiced in Doug Cook's good farming fortune.  But the prairie grasses and wildflower seeds are tiny and temperamental and so far are content to stay snug in their earthen beds.

Sigh.

Which, in made me think -- of all things -- about Quakers and gambling.  We've long been agin it -- casinos, horse racing, the lottery.  And yet many Quakers spring from farming stock and what bigger gamble is there than farming.  Like the lottery and casinos, the odds are against you -- everything has to fall just right (sunlight, rain, growing degree days, etc) if a crop is to come in.  All the preparatory work, seed selection, machine fixing, planting, and so forth go to naught if sunlight and rain do not fall at the right times -- or do at the wrong times.  Talk about a gamble.

And yet the hope to grow something persists.  For some it is more than a hope.  It is a need.  For income.  For feeding a family or the human family.  For purpose and meaning, even.  It's becoming so for me.  The warm season grass and wild flower seeds sprouting (hopefully!) will not positively impact my economic bottom line.  Nor will they feed my family or the world directly.  But they will provide beauty.  They will help cleanse the polluted air from our nearby city.  They will provide food for the bees, birds, bunnies, deer and other wildlife.  They will provide housing for various wildlife, as well.  They will make the world better.

Seeding those fields (and planting tree saplings in others) is my way of participating in Tikkun olam.  That's a concept I learned from my little Jewish brother, Aaron Spiegel.  Aaron told me that tikkun olam means  "repairing the world" or "healing and restoring the world" and is tied to the Jewish belief that we have a shared responsibility to work with God in healing and transforming the world.

We are all called to work with God in the healing of the world.  We all have the opportunity to work with God in redeeming the world.  We are called to this wonderful that will also, beside repairing the world, repair us.  Now planting a prairie or a woodlands may not be everyone's cup of tikkun olam, but it does seem to be mine at this time in my life.  And for all my grumbling (and I do plenty of it) about how I'd rather be living in a condo downtown and letting someone else do it, I'm not ready to let go of that call yet.

And so tonight, when I get home, I'll scan the weather channel in hopes of rain on the forecast horizon and then walk the fields and look for sprouts and speak prayers of encouragement to the ground and the bounty of beauty and redemption it holds.

And I will up my eyes unto the heavens, from whence cometh my rain.  Or at least I hope it will!

- Brent