The heart of humanity's problem is the problem of the human heart.
‘It restores my faith in human nature’ is something one might say following on from an experience of a kindly, loving or compassionate act. The same expression of feeling may be declared when a restorative act of justice or compensation is duly given.
The underlying thought behind the words ‘restores my faith in human nature’ is that once we held a high view of human nature but then something, or multiple things, dented our confidence in it. Then along comes a noble and praiseworthy act which more than counterbalances our temporary lapse of faith in human nature. There is a widespread belief that people, although not perfect, are fundamentally good at heart.
Later this month (Monday 27th), it will be International Holocaust Remembrance Day. Thoughts will be inevitably challenged as to how could such industrial-scale mass murder be perpetrated by people not so very different to us. Was the whole thing a one-off lapse in humanity’s generally good nature? Hardly, since there had been other genocides in the previous decade (notably in Russia and China). There have been more since. The question that forces itself upon us is, ‘Is our human nature naturally good, or not?’
I believe that there is a danger that the scale of the horrors of the Holocaust can blind us to the fact that the estimated 6 million who died were individual people, as also were the perpetrators of this ‘Final Solution’. So, when I as an individual play the blame game; speak maliciously or cruelly, or think or act with hatred; are racially partisan or simply turn a blind eye to what is obviously wrong, am I any different to those who implemented the horrors of Auschwitz, Belsen, Treblinka etc?
We may think that the trajectory of this line of thought is an unacceptable indictment on the majority of people and that such a critique only should apply to a minority. Jesus, however, and the teaching of his immediate followers would confirm the uncomfortable conclusion that the heart of humanity’s problem is the problem of the human heart.
Thankfully, in the gospel of John we read, ‘For God did not send his Son [Jesus] into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.’ Once again it is individuals which make up ‘the world’ as referred to here.
Jesus himself, the Jew par excellence, personally experienced hatred, persecution and finally murder. His death, however, was not in vain: it had a central purpose in God’s long-term plan for people.
Jesus could say, ‘Who can accuse me of sin?’ and no one could, because, unlike us, he did not have a flawed human nature. So, when he died at the hands of people who, in essentials, were like us, God raised him to life again.
In a similar way that it may be argued that the rebirth of the nation of Israel was borne out of the awfulness of the Holocaust, so the awfulness of the death of Jesus brings a different sort of rebirth for men and women. In what way? If we own up to our broken human nature; ask Jesus for God’s forgiveness of all the bad things that spill from our hearts; and trust that he is both able and willing to forgive, it will result in a spiritual rebirth and will plant within us a new type of nature.
The 27th January is a call to remembrance, to reflect and learn. A Christian missionary, of around 70 years ago, named Norman Grubb, spoke of those who carried out the Holocaust. He said, ‘These were not primitive savages or so-called heathen but members of a so-called Christian nation. Let us beware, and learn, for all are alike in their basic nature.’