Stories of World War II have always been a great source of inspiration for me in my performing, both for the pain and extreme tragedy endured by millions of Jews, as well as their undying perseverance through the most intense trials a human being could possibly face. Their determination and positive outlook through the total debasing of their humanity gives hope to all. It is a beacon of light for us in our daily tests that challenge us to become better human beings. On my last album, I arranged a piece that combines Rachmaninoff's Elegie, one of the most heart-breaking works in the entire piano repertoire, along with the theme from Schindler's List. Before I play this at each concert, I have been telling a particularly touching story that has changed my life, and I'd like to relay it to each of you here. It is one of the most powerful examples of forgiveness that I've ever come across, and motivates me to be a better and more loving human being. “It was in a church in Munich that I saw him—a balding, heavyset man in a gray overcoat, a brown felt hat clutched between his hands. People were filing out of the basement room where I had just spoken, moving along the rows of wooden chairs to the door at the rear. It was 1947 and I had come from Holland to defeated Germany with the message that God forgives. “When we confess our sins,’ I said, ‘God casts them into the deepest ocean, gone forever. …’ “The solemn faces stared back at me, not quite daring to believe. “And that’s when I saw him, working his way forward against the others. One moment I saw the overcoat and the brown hat; the next, a blue uniform and a visored cap with its skull and crossbones. It came back with a rush: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights; the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor; the shame of walking naked past this man. I could see my sister’s frail form ahead of me, ribs sharp beneath the parchment skin. “Now he was in front of me, hand thrust out: ‘A fine message, Fräulein! “And I, who had spoken so glibly of forgiveness, fumbled in my pocketbook rather than take that hand. He would not remember me, of course—how could he remember one prisoner among those thousands of women? “But I remembered him and the leather crop swinging from his belt. I was face-to-face with one of my captors and my blood seemed to freeze. “ ‘You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk,’ he was saying, ‘I was a guard there.’ No, he did not remember me. “ ‘But since that time,’ he went on, ‘I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well. Fräulein,’ again the hand came out—’will you forgive me?’ “And I stood there—I whose sins had again and again been forgiven—and I could not forgive. My Sister had died in that place—could he erase her slow terrible death simply for the asking? “It could not have been many seconds that he stood there—hand held out—but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do. “For I had to do it—I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us. Since the end of the war I had had a home in Holland for victims of Nazi brutality. Those who were able to forgive their former enemies were able also to return to the outside world and rebuild their lives, no matter what the physical scars. Those who nursed their bitterness remained invalids. It was as simple and as horrible as that. “And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. Help!’ I prayed silently. ‘I can lift my hand. I can do that much. You supply the feeling.’ “And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes. “ ‘I forgive you, brother!’ I cried. ‘With all my heart!’ “For a long moment we grasped each other’s hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely, as I did then.” -Corrie Ten Boom
1 Comment
Felicity Tuttle
11/28/2019 08:10:30 am
Dear Josh, this Elegie/Schindler arrangement I heard as part of Roman Sadovsky’s free skate in NHK Skate in Japan and while I knew both pieces instantly the depth and weaving was so incredible I had to hunt for information about it - which thankfully was not hard to find. I am familiar with many, many personal Holocaust memoirs and have read Corrie Ten Boom’s. What wonderful added impact you bring with this. I am not at all a religious person and yet I do feel forgiveness does allow many to live fully going forward after the unforgettable and understandably unforgivable. The Bostin Museum of Art held an amazing intimate concert of pieces about two years ago written by musicians lost in the Holocaust; I have sung a phenomenal piece (in 4 parts SATB) written by two Holocaust musicians only one of whom survived. I hope you are doing much writing of your own. The sensibilities which you brought to this arrangement are so marvelous. Your piece will last. It is very special. ♥️
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