So it's kind of funny that I was principally introduced to Adventism by a former German soldier who fought against them! And funny that my dedication of my life to our non-profit charity, 490 Outreach, owes much to that same soldier!
Yet, that is the situation. Almost 25 years before my baptism, I had just left LA and found myself in Thousand Oaks. I could see at once it was a ritzy town, and one where it would be unlikely for me, a 20 something wandering hobo at the time, to find work and a place with any ease.
Walking down the street with my backpack on, a pick up truck pulled over, and a man said, "You have no place to go, do you?"
True enough, I did not at that moment. He said, almost happily, "I knew it! You can come and help me!"
 |
| Planting seeds |
Help him. He needed help like Bill Gates needs an extra $5, but that was Ziggy. Siegfried Carle, a Seventh-day Adventist, an Electrician, and while it pained him to think of it, a former soldier for the Third Reich.
He had me "help" him as an electrician's assistant, which principally involved carrying his bag, passing him the wrong tools and keeping him company. He took me home that evening for dinner, and then let me sleep in an old RV they had on one of their properties.
The following day, he felt bad about that, though I had thought it very kind of him. But he did feel bad, and from then on, I had a bedroom in their house, a rather luxurious place, but homey. I ate with he and his wife, and one of his sons. I went out with Ziggy each day. I could borrow a vehicle if I needed to go to the store.
And each Sabbath, we went to the Seventh-day Adventist church there.
I do not remember many of the members of the congregation there, though they were all polite and kind. I do remember one specific exception, though. A man who seemed a bit upset at the world quizzed me as to who I was and where I was staying. When I said I was staying with the Carle's, he nodded dismissively and said, "Oh, one of Ziggy's projects."
That didn't bother me. It made me realize that Ziggy was an even greater guy than I already thought he was, because it meant he did this regularly, it wasn't just a fluke. I knew what it said about a guy who took in those who needed help, over and over, just in the hopes one would convert.
To my shame though, I did not convert. Back then, in my early 20s, I knew everything. I could enjoy their company and admire their zeal, but not be converted.
I learned their stories, though. And such stories! This was a couple who had lived life large, and been in the thick of the most turbulent era of 20th century history, and came out the other side successful and well off, and most of all, good and decent and kind beyond measure.
Yes, to his distress, Ziggy had fought in the Army of Germany during World War II. Every male of a given age had to, or be shot. As to being a Nazi, I don't know if he formally was, I know that many were made to join, or were inducted almost by default. I know he never was in his heart. I know he was always too kind for that kind of nonsense.
His wife had been a child in Poland, and thus witnessed the German invasion and take over of it. She had, at her children's request, told her whole story on tape cassettes. Remember tape cassettes? She wanted them transcribed, and since I am a far better typist than electrician, I transcribed those for her.
What a treat! When I talked with her son yesterday, he could not quite place me, as after all, his father had helped a great many young people in his life. But when I said, "I want you to know, your mother's stories made a huge impression on me. She let me transcribe them, and I've never forgotten any of them, she was a remarkable woman." He said, "Oh, that was you! Yes, I know you now!"
Meta - Ziggy's wife - was a little girl when the Nazis took over. She was an Adventist, though, and when the teacher following the new laws told all the kids to stand up, raise their arm in the Nazi salute and say "Heil, Hitler!", she would not. Even though that caused a good deal of trouble. To this day, I think of her any time I read of someone getting in trouble or getting criticized for not respecting the flag.
True, our flag is nothing like the Nazi one, but I hold that anyone has the right to refuse allegiance to a symbol, man or nation if they feel like it. Just like she did. And each person's reasons must be their own, like her's were.
When she and the rest of Poland was set "free", by the very Soviet Army that had participated in stealing half of a Poland, she was in a camp controlled by the East German Soviets. She had to escape, first to West Germany, then to Canada. Meanwhile, Ziggy, no longer in the Army with the war lost, was similarly faced with the daunting task of getting out of war torn Germany, and he, too, made his way to Canada.
The Northern Territories, if my memory serves. Which would in itself be an adventure to last a life time for any, but some how they then met - in Canada or here, I'm not remembering - and wound up together in the United States.
I could not tell you with a certainty what I did in my travels three months before or after meeting them. But I remember Meta's wonderful vegan dishes and her stories, even a random tiny one like when she was a little girl and had to work in the fields, she would take a bit of coal from the stove, put it in a tin can, put a half potato over it, and then twirl the can on a string so that the potato would cook while she walked.
Or how she slept on top of a stove in a camp in East Germany to stay warm in the winter.
And I remember Ziggy's fight with City Hall, over some zoning issue, which most would account as minor, but he saw as the opening wedge to the utter destruction of liberty! But I guess no one loves freedom as much as those who had none of it. I remember his aid at a food line, where a dinner would be provided for the homeless.
I was with them for at least a month, but no more than three months. Their whole family was nothing but gracious and kind to me. One of his adult sons was married and had another luxurious house, and I was there with the whole family for some cook out - I forget if it was a holiday or not, but I was impressed that they'd take I, a stranger in, and treat me as if I was a relative.
I learned a lot about Adventism. Or, how to put this? I had previously known an Adventist, so I already knew about Saturday being the Sabbath and the dead knowing nothing. So what I learned from them was more the lifestyle, the culture, the daily living of it. And what magnificent examples they were of that!
Vegan meals, charity as a way of life, love always, a striving to live a Christ-like life, humility in thinking they had a long ways to go - though from what I could see, they had nailed it! Work ethic. Family values. Attentiveness and generosity to the church - Ziggy did the electrical work for them, and any church job came first.
When I left, they did this fantastical routine of adding up the amount of "work" I had done for them and arriving at a preposterously large figure for what I knew to be jack crap make work! The only value that I could possibly have contributed was the transcribing of those stories, and frankly, I had took that as it's own reward, just getting to hear the stories was payment enough!
Then they deducted "rent" and "food" and such. It was a whole song and dance, it struck me at the time they'd done it before with others, and I suspected I knew what these good hearted people were shooting for. I played my part by nodding in grave agreement at whatever they said as far as debits and credits went, and in the end - "surprise" - they found they owed me.
I protested this immediately, but I knew them well enough to know that this was going to be futile. And having previously agreed to their math, I had no real recourse. The money was an aid and a kindness, and it got me to my next stop in Bellingham, Washington.
When I got baptized this past May, well, even before, when I knew I was going to be baptized, I tried to reach them. I found no number for them, but did for some of the kids. I say "kids", those young men back then are all middle aged like me now, after a quarter of a century!
Yesterday, I did get in contact with one finally. Numbers I had found were out of date or changed, but I had been trying for the past six months, and yesterday it paid off. At first the poor guy - Conrad - thought I was a telemarketer, but I then tentatively started, and referred to his father in the past tense, and when he said, "was?" I said, "I'm sorry, I don't know if he is still alive?"
I learned that while he had been in the hospital lately, he is alive and staying at his daughter's! And Meta is still alive, her having been younger than he. I did not ask the son just how old Ziggy is, but doing the math with my wife later, I said, "Well, if he was 18 in 1945, then he'd be 90 now!" So wow!
Funny, I'd thought he was ancient back then, but now I see that he was only 65, which at my age of 48 now seems a lot younger than it used to!
As I've mentioned elsewhere, in relating my testimony, I had three encounters with Adventists in my young days as a traveller. The first had been with Terry a truck driver who gave me a ride, and the third was some Adventists in Bellingham. But honestly, the greatest length of time I spent with Adventists, and the ones who made the largest impression on me, was the Carle family.
They planted seeds. And goodness, it must have seemed hopeless to them at times. I don't know how many they aided, but it's a sure bet that the number who then went on to get baptized was less than those they helped! But part of what I learned from them is that it's not about that. And that was a valuable lesson, one that's aided me in my job now - and indeed, helped me get this job in the first place.
People ask me about my patience in dealing with alcoholics and addicts, many who don't truly wish to be helped, many who are not going to do the right things, many who will receive what you have to offer, and then move on without any real improvement. I know from the Carle family that real charity then is to accept that.
You don't give or help because the person receiving it is perfect and deserving of it. Who ever would be? You give and help because Christ told us to, and it's not on us what the recipient will make of it. You're planting a seed - it's up to them whether it is then nourished to grow or not. You're offering a life preserver - it's up to them to grab onto it.
For me, while it was 25 years later, the seeds they planted with such perpetual hope grew. And in truth, it started growing even ten years ago, for without the life lessons I had learned from that family I'd have been ill equipped to start the charitable non-profit my wife and I run now.
When we thus help someone, in a very real sense, that person we help owes thanks to Ziggy. Had Ziggy not stopped to pick me up, had he and his family not took me in, I cannot conceive that I'd be in the business I'm in today, or in the church I'm in today, or living the life I'm living today.
I try to aid others, as Ziggy tried to aid me.
And that's how a former soldier of the Third Reich led me to Christ, led me to Adventism, and aided in starting 490 Outreach!
No comments:
Post a Comment