Not many years ago thousands of boys and girls in Germany sang a song of pagan origin which expressed their deepest devotion. This led multitudes of them to sacrifice their lives with a zeal and fanaticism hardly paralleled in modern times. Yet the song I refer to had nothing in it that spoke either of man’s frailty or of our Living God. It glorified the swastika and offered the only kind of eternity Hitler’s god could offer. The refrain was:
Our banner leads us to eternity;
Yes, our banner is more than death.
This impersonal god, known and worshiped as nature, was a German god for German people only. This pagan deity who was brought out of the dust heaps of former Germanic pagan religions was offered to Hitler’s followers in place of the God of the Bible, and the sequel to that idolatry is written in blood.
Just how quickly and deeply this awful system sent its roots into the hearts of German children is seen in the following incident. A 10-year-old lad was inducted into the youngest branch of the Hitler youth movement. In the glow of his enthusiasm at having reached this goal, to where he was now a dedicated member of that organization, the boy paid no heed to the almost freezing temperatures and heavy rain which he encountered on his return home. This brought on pneumonia, and his parents sent for a doctor. The medical man, after careful examination, told the anxious parents that the chances of saving the boy’s life were slim, but he would do his best. On hearing this, the boy, what little energy was left him, raised himself on the bed and cried, “I don’t want a doctor! I want to die for Hitler!”
This was the atmosphere in which I grew up. I could hardly wait for my tenth birthday to come when I could prove my faithfulness to Hitler, a hero in the eyes of most German boys.
What may dismay and shock you is that I held this ideal in spite of the fact that I had Christian parents who were deeply devoted to Christ and His cause. My father had preached the Word of God for 35 years, but his type of Christianity did not appeal to me.
The enthusiasm of the Hitler youth movement gripped and held me. I believed the lying propaganda that said that Christians were weaklings. The arrogance of military Nazism appealed to me. I looked down on those Christians who met together and read such passages from the Bible as “We are more than conquerors through Him that loved us,” and then–at least to my childish eyes–returned home in abject defeat. Little did I realize that these were the real heroes and heroines of Germany during those days. It took courage beyond the average to believe and act upon Paul’s declaration: “For me to live is Christ, and to die is gain.”
The claim was constantly made that in Germany the youth were bound together in a common fellowship, lived a high moral life, and were ready to die for their ideals. In spite of my pride in the supposed high moral standards of our movement, however, the Spirit of God began to convict me of my sinfulness and need of a Saviour. Incidents that I thought were forgotten were brought to mind and troubled me.
I could not get away from the things that my father had taught me from the Scriptures. Some of these truths were indelibly printed on my mind because of incidents surrounding them.
For example, on my way home late one evening, I came to a place where a mob was gathered. As I watched, wondering what was taking place, I saw a grand piano hurled from the fifth-story window of a house and smashed into a thousand pieces on the street. Two small boys near me started laughing and said, “They have lost their minds.” But two men who were in SS uniforms overheard the boys and immediately took them aside and gave them a licking. It was then that I realized that there was a sinister design behind this incident. It was not something done for fun.
When I arrived home that night, my father showed me a dark red glow in the sky and told me that Hitler was burning down all the Jewish synagogues in Germany and had taken over all the property of God’s chosen people, the Jews. It was then that he said something which haunted me through the years, even when Hitler seemed to be winning the war in Russia and in Africa and controlled a great part of Europe.
This is what my father said: “If Hitler ever starts a war, he will never win, because he has touched God’s people.” Then he opened the Bible, proving to me from it and also from history that no nation ever survived that lifted its hand against the Jews.
More and more, the convicting power of the Holy Spirit laid hold upon me. I began to read the Bible and found that I could not refute it. I was convinced in my own heart that it was the truth of God. But that was not sufficient to save me. We read in James that the devils believe and tremble. What I needed was a personal meeting with the Lord Jesus Christ, and for the first time I realized that a Christian needs more courage than a Hitler youth leader needs in a big battle. It suddenly dawned on me that I was a coward. I was concerned about what the boys would say at school and especially those in my Hitler youth unit. I could not be a secret believer, yet it was hard to count the cost.
One night, as I returned from Hitler youth duty, the air raid siren sounded. I well knew that some people would not live to hear the all-clear siren; they would have to face God that night to be judged for eternity. I was under conviction at the time and did not want to hear my parents’ prayer in our own air-raid shelter. So in order to dull my conscience, I went to a school building nearby. People there did not believe in God and did not remind me of His judgment.
When I was close to the school, I saw flashed upon the horizon the thin fingers of searchlights reaching into the sky. A little later, the sky around me vibrated with the noise of several thousand airplane engines. The thought flashed through my mind, “Where will this load of death and despair descend this time?”
On my way to the shelter, I met a young woman, intelligent and kind, yet without Christ. She said casually with no regard for eternity, “I’m now going to all the places of pleasure–to movies, dances, to anything that is open yet. Who knows how long we have to live? I want to get something out of my life before I die.”
I was shocked by her words, as I knew from my Christian background the inadequacy of such a viewpoint. And yet, I knew that we were in the same lost and sinful condition. If we were God-haters, we would go to the same place.
My thoughts were interrupted by a strange noise outside the schoolhouse. It paralyzed my legs. I realized then that the whole school yard was littered with napalm and incendiary bombs, and that the sweet-smelling and poisonous phosphorus was sprayed all over the place. It was then that I faced death in reality.
I had often said that once I faced death I would say to God, “Lord, be merciful to me, a sinner.” How foolish I was! Would God give me a chance to find Him in my convenient time? The Holy Spirit had not gotten me before; now He was silent and Satan blinded me. In some respects I am happy that I did not find Christ that moment. I might have become a selfish Christian, only concerned with being saved from hell and wanting only to walk on golden streets. That is the reason why so few Christians live a victorious life. They are concerned about the material benefits they might gain through knowing the Saviour.
The school started burning, and panic broke out among those who were sheltered in it. It seemed that a voice deep down in my heart was telling me to leave the school building as soon as I could. There was a tremendous urge which I could not resist. Ordinarily I would never have had the courage to run through the flames, but the urge became so strong that I closed my eyes and darted through the burning street. People shouted to me not to run–that I was facing sure death–but I ran on.
There was a whistling noise which mingled with the voices and shouts of the people, then a deafening explosion, a flash of light, and I was hurled into the ditch while stones and rubble came flying through the air. It all seemed a nightmare. I wondered if it could be true.
Behind me, everything was still. No more voices screamed in fear. When I rose from the ditch and looked behind me, the school building was just a heap of ruins. All in it were dead, including the young woman who wanted to get something out of life.
I staggered home, climbed through the debris of our partly demolished house, and began extinguishing the sparks caused by the bomb explosions from igniting what had been left. The fight to save the house lasted all night, and the battle was won only as the sun came up from behind black clouds of smoke. But another battle was raging in my heart. I saw my neighborhood in ruins. Where once I had played with other boys I saw only craters and ruins. Why was I alive? I may never find the answer until I stand face to face with Him who loved me with an everlasting love.
He gave me that urge to leave the school building, and I became as a brand plucked from the burning. It was in this moment that the desperate fate of my spiritual condition laid hold on me, and now I did not care what the boys in the Hitler youth movement would say. It did not matter whether they would kill me or deliver me to a concentration camp. Only one thing mattered–I would find Christ now or never.
A few moments later, God brought assurance to a brokenhearted boy who, with hot tears running down his cheeks, pleaded for His forgiveness on the basis of the supreme sacrifice that was made at Calvary. While the world around me lay in ruins, a new song was put into my heart. That song has stayed there ever since:
Once I was lost in sin’s degradation,
Jesus came forth to bring me salvation,
Lifted me up from sorrow and shame,
Now I belong to Him.
Now I belong to Jesus,
Jesus belongs to me,
Not for the years of time alone,
But for eternity.
It was easy after that to confess to my Hitler youth friends, because Jesus was more than life to me. I could say that Jesus paid it all, and all to Him I owe. Some of these boys were saved later, and my immediate superior was also saved and became the Youth for Christ director of my hometown. Christ made me free from fear and taught me to live a life which is full of joy–a life which is filled with His glory and grace.
I have not done as much for Him as I should, but one day I shall see Him face to face, and when He shows me His nail-pierced hands and says, “This I did for you; what did you do for Me?” I can show Him the steadily increasing group of poor outcast Indian and Mexican boys who until the Saviour sent me to minister among them had never heard of the Saviour’s love. Now, by His grace alone, many of them are saved and are preparing themselves to serve Him till He comes.
God did not give me a work that would make me prominent among men. That I do not deserve in any case. But in His matchless grace He saw fit to place my wife and me in areas that have not been reached with the gospel. We have the greatest joy that anybody could have as we direct our Training Center for the Indian boys in Southern Mexico. What a delight it is to hear them say for the first time in the midst of their wicked and violent environment, “Thank you, Lord, for saving my soul!”
Once I wanted to die for Hitler, but now through God’s grace I can say that I want to live for Christ. What about you? Won’t you live for Him who alone can set men free? He alone can satisfy the heart.
The Lord has a job for you to do. Will you do it? Then you, like Paul, will be able to say, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith: henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give me at that day: and not to me only, but unto all them also that love His appearing” (2 Tim. 4:7).