Marek Edelman was a Polish Jew and just 20 years-old when the Germans invaded. He was confined in the Warsaw Ghetto, watched as the Nazi death machine reduced the ghetto's population from a high of 500,000 to 60,000, and then helped lead the Warsaw Uprising. A small number of lightly armed Jews—220 men and women—held off the Nazi army for three weeks. Edelman, who had been resident of the part of Warsaw that became the ghetto, was able to slip away with fifty other fighters after the uprising was put down. He stayed in Warsaw after the war, became a doctor, and would later be imprisoned—again—by the communists for his role in the Solidarity movement. He died last week at the improbable age of 90. Here's how he described his role as a doctor:
“God is trying to blow out the candle, and I’m quickly trying to shield the flame, taking advantage of his brief inattention,” he said. “To keep the flame flickering, even if only for a little while longer than he would wish.”
Which reminded me of this...
The human being is a machine. An automatic machine. It is composed of thousands of complex and delicate mechanisms, which perform their functions harmoniously and perfectly, in accordance with laws devised for their governance, and over which the man himself has no authority, no mastership, no control. For each one of these thousands of mechanisms the Creator has planned an enemy, whose office is to harass it, pester it, persecute it, damage it, afflict it with pains, and miseries, and ultimate destruction. Not one has been overlooked.... Disease! That is the main force, the diligent force, the devastating force! It attacks the infant the moment it is born; it furnishes it one malady after another: croup, measles, mumps, bowel troubles, teething pains, scarlet fever, and other childhood specialties. It chases the child into youth and furnishes it some specialties for that time of life. It chases the youth into maturity, maturity into age, age into the grave....
If science exterminates a disease which has been working for God, it is God that gets the credit, and all the pulpits break into grateful advertising-raptures and call attention to how good he is! Yes, he has done it. Perhaps he has waited a thousand years before doing it. That is nothing; the pulpit says he was thinking about it all the time.
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Would I bring her back to life if I could do it? I would not. If a word would do it, I would beg for strength to withhold the word. And I would have the strength; I am sure of it. In her loss I am almost bankrupt, and my life is a bitterness, but I am content: for she has been enriched with the most precious of all gifts--that gift which makes all other gifts mean and poor-- death. I have never wanted any released friend of mine restored to life since I reached manhood...
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