The Unlikely Allies (25 page)

“Naturally the enemies of the church would attack this doctrine, and theologians have defended it ably. And I say to you this morning that Jesus is the Son of the living God. The book of John tells us that all things are made by Him, and without Him was not anything made that was made. So He is the great Creator. He is also the Sustainer. The book of Colossians tells us that it is Jesus’ power that keeps the universe running, and the entire New Testament points to the time when Jesus will come back and receive the living saints, and those who are dead will rise from their graves. So Jesus is the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last.”

The pastor masterfully wove a texture of Scripture around the doctrine of the divinity, but only briefly. “I would have you know this morning,” he said, looking squarely at each individual in the sanctuary in turn, “that our Lord Jesus, although He was very God, was also born of the Virgin Mary, a very human woman indeed. The Gospels record that the coming of Jesus was announced by the angel to Mary, and when Mary could not understand how she could have a son, not having known a man, the angel simply told her that the child would be born of the Holy Spirit.

“So Jesus came into the world, and we must never forget that He laid aside His divinity. He did not come in the form that He would later assume, but for thirty-three years He inhabited earth as a man. First as a child, a helpless baby nursing at his mother’s breast, as all of us did, then as a young
boy, running, I would suppose, and playing in the streets of Nazareth, then as a young man growing up and learning the carpenter’s trade. The Bible teaches us that Jesus experienced and overcame every temptation we have, but it was not an easy thing, as some suppose. We must never say that because He was God He never knew temptation.”

Derek leaned forward, and for the next thirty minutes listened as the pastor spoke of how Jesus grew hungry, how He grew thirsty, how He grew so weary that He could fall asleep in a small boat in the midst of a raging storm. The pastor also indicated that the temptations that Jesus endured in the wilderness were representative of all those things that torment man.

“I do not pretend to know the nature of all the temptations that our Lord endured, but I have known temptations as a man, and sadly I must confess that I have not always been victorious, but I believe that the Lord Jesus endured every temptation I have ever had and endured them victoriously.”

The pastor closed his Bible and stood silently for a moment. “Jesus is the Son of Mary, and He is the Son of the Eternal God. Once when things were going badly, He asked His disciples, ‘Will you also go away?’ And my answer is the same as Simon Peter’s when I sometimes feel doubt or despair, when my heart is heavy and it seems that there is no way out.” He smiled. “You didn’t think your pastor felt like that? Well, he does. And so does every man and every woman here, I believe. What did Simon Peter answer? He said, ‘Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.’ ”

Derek felt those words enter his spirit, as Scriptures or certain poems did at times, and he felt that the pastor was directing them at his own heart. When the service was over, he left at once without speaking to anyone, but for the rest of the day and for three days afterward, he relived the words of the pastor’s sermon. They seemed to be engraved on his mind, and always like a refrain came the question of Simon Peter,
To whom shall we go?
These words troubled Derek
greatly, for he felt his frailty, and the depression and despondency that settled onto him was darker than anything he had ever known.

Three days after the sermon, he arrived at Harstad, a small fishing village not too far from Narvik, and found a mere handful of soldiers controlling the territory. They had commandeered a house, and the sergeant in charge had seen to it that Derek had the best room and the best bed. He inspected the scanty effects of the barracks and spent a brief hour with the sergeant in charge, then went to bed early.

He was too tired to undress, but even so, sleep eluded him that night. He read until his eyes burned, moving restlessly between the Bible and three books of poetry he had brought with him. He finally grew so weary he could barely contain himself, and still, though his body ached with fatigue, he knew he would not be able to sleep.

He took one of the poetry books with him and went to the kitchen and heated some coffee. Taking the cup to the office, he sat down at the desk and opened the book, a small volume of George Herbert’s poetry. He was tired of reading and weary of his own company, but the silence of the room seemed to intimidate him. He opened the book at random and read the first poem that his eyes touched. The title of it was simply “Love.”

At first Derek felt dull and lethargic, and the words seemed to mean very little. But then as he read it a second time, he found himself becoming more interested, and finally on a third reading he found the poem to be fascinating.

He had a quick ear for good poetry and had no trouble understanding it. The poem was really about a man’s attempt to draw nearer to God, and in poetic fashion had set forth the man’s argument that he was unfit to come close to God.

“Well, this Englishman knew what it was like to feel like a dirty beggar,” he muttered. “He calls himself unkind and ungrateful, and that’s exactly the way I feel.”

The sound of his own voice was somewhat startling, but he continued to read the lines over, and finally he read the last three lines aloud:

Suddenly tears came to the eyes of the tall, erect soldier who sat beside the feeble lamp.

He felt somehow that he was in a holy place. This crude, plain room seemed filled with the presence of the Lord. It was an experience he had never had before, and he sat gripping the book until his knuckles grew white, and more and
more he realized he was not alone. He studied the last three lines where the poet said that God insisted that the poet sit down. That God himself would serve him.

This broke Derek’s heart. He had not knelt to pray since he was a boy, but he knew he had to humble himself. Putting the book down, he knelt, placing his elbows on the chair, and began to pray. “Lord, I’d give anything to know you. But I can’t find you.” He prayed in a hoarse voice, stammering at times and at other times unable to say anything. Then the words began to flow. “What is it, Lord? Are you there? Is it all just fiction? A dream? Please, if you are there—if you are here with me—let me know it!”

And then something happened to Derek—something he knew he would never be able to explain to anyone. He had always felt that words sometimes failed, that an experience could be so extraordinary that words would not capture it. Now as he knelt, he
knew
he was not alone in the room. He saw nothing with his eyes and heard nothing with his ears, yet he was intensely conscious of a presence. The moment seemed eternal, having nothing to do with time, and he cried out, “Lord God, I am so lost! Please—help me! I know that Jesus is your Son, and I ask you to forgive my sins in His name!”

After a long time, a great peace came to him. He was exhausted physically and emotionally, and finally he began to grow sleepy. He left the office and went back to his bed, pulled off his boots, and pulled the covers over himself. He still had the impression that God was very near, and he remembered the words of Jacob from Genesis: “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.”

“But I
know,
God, that you have been in this place—and I know I can never be the same man that I have been!” He spoke these words aloud, then went to sleep praying.

Later in the night he had a vivid dream. He was walking down a road and came to a fork. He looked to his right and saw a smooth road with no dangers. Beautiful trees arched over it. It would be an easy road to take.

Then he looked to his left, and he saw that the road became little more than a footpath, leading to rough and savage country. It passed through a dark forest filled with wild beasts, and the road was broken and led over dangerous passes and through raging streams.

In the dream Derek knew he had to go on, and he told himself, “Only a fool would take the way that leads through such terrible dangers. I will take the easy way.”

But then he felt himself halted, and in the dream a voice said to him, “If you take the easy way, my son, you will be forever miserable.”

Derek woke up abruptly and sat bolt upright in bed. The dream had been so clear and so real, he knew he would continue thinking about the voice that had spoken. He lay down again, but sleep would not come, and until dawn he thought about the two ways that lay before him, wondering what the dream meant.

****

Derek sat at his desk going over the mountain of papers that had accumulated while he was away on his travels. He was weary, for he had slept very little, and he had lost weight. He had been back on the job in Oslo for a week and had said little to anyone. He had made no attempt to contact Mallory, but he still could not get her out of his thoughts. He thought about his dream every day and night, and it troubled him greatly.

“A woman to see you, sir.” Corporal Schultz had knocked and opened the door. “I don’t know what she wants. She won’t say. She’s not from here.”

“Let her come in, Corporal.”

“Yes, sir.”

Derek tossed the papers down and put his pen on top of them. He flexed his fingers, and when the woman came in, he stood to his feet. “Good afternoon,” he said. “I’m Major Grüber.”

The woman who stood before him was not pretty in any sense. She seemed to be around forty years old and was thin, and her face was full of lines that bespoke a hard life.

She wore a plain dress, and her hands, Derek noticed, were hardened with work. “My name is Marzina Klimek,” she said in German.

“Won’t you sit down? How may I help you?”

She did not speak but nodded and took her seat. Her gaze was very direct, and Derek was puzzled. “You’re not from this country, I take it, Mrs. Klimek?”

“No, I am a Czech, but I was married to a Polish officer.”

“You’re a visitor here?”

“I came to Norway to see you, Colonel Grüber.”

He blinked with surprise. “To see me? What business do you have with me?”

She was studying his face with a clinical interest. Her eyes were intelligent, and she must have been a pretty young woman, but life had been hard on her, Derek saw.

“I knew a very good friend of yours.”

He could not imagine whom this Czech woman could have known.

“Her name was Rachel Mindel.”

The world seemed to stop for Derek, and he could not speak. All that existed for him at that moment was this poorly dressed, worn woman.

“You knew Rachel?” he whispered.

“Yes. My husband and I were sent to Dachau.”

Derek almost flinched at the words. He knew that many Poles had been slaughtered when the Germans had overrun that poor country. Many others had been sent to the concentration camps. He found his mouth dry, and it was difficult to speak. Finally he managed to say, “You . . . you knew Rachel at Dachau?”

“Yes, we were very close. In that place you needed someone to lean on. Those who had nobody did not last long.”

Of all things that Derek Grüber did not want to know, it was the details of the
horrors of Dachau, yet he found himself saying, “Tell me about her, Mrs. Klimek.”

For the next twenty minutes Derek listened as the woman told of the struggle to live in a Nazi concentration camp. She spoke calmly, but the memories that came to her showed in the darkness of her eyes. Derek was sure she left off some of the more horrible parts of that life, but he heard enough that he seemed to shrivel up as he thought of the gentle Rachel going through such things.

“Rachel and I were like sisters, although I was older than she. We shared everything with each other, and one of the things she shared with me was how much she loved you, Major Grüber.”

Derek could not say a word. He could only sit there as if hypnotized. “She knew she was going to die, and she gave me this letter and asked me to try to get it to you if I survived.”

Derek watched as the woman produced a small envelope from her purse. She extended it to him.

He did not take it but said, “Aren’t you afraid of a German officer? A Nazi?”

“No, I’m not afraid. God was with me throughout the years at Dachau. He set me free. But while I was there, I was able to share Christ with Rachel. She accepted Jesus as her Messiah and knew such joy!” She looked straight into Derek’s eyes. “Perhaps God got me out of Dachau just for this. I loved Rachel, and this is all I can do for her. Here, take it, Major.”

Derek took the letter and noticed that his hand was not steady. He knew the woman saw this also, and he met her eyes and could hardly speak. “You won’t believe this, Mrs. Klimek, but I loved Rachel.”

“I know. She told me. It was the joy of her life, the love that you and she had.” She rose to her feet. “I must go. I pray for you every day, Major Grüber. You may think that impertinent, but I am a Christian, and I believe that God is going to do something with your life.”

He could not answer. He looked down at the letter and
then lifted his eyes. “I will give you a pass that will get you out of here without any trouble, Mrs. Klimek.” He took a sheet of paper, wrote a few lines, signed it, and then stood up and came over to her. He handed her the paper and said, “I thank you for coming.”