There are stories whose impact is so immense that they linger long after the words have faded. At the Gold Coast Holocaust Remembrance Day gathering, I heard two such stories, accounts that have stayed with me, stirring both grief and responsibility.
The first was shared by Riekje East who spoke of her grandmother, Roelofina WisseBorger. During the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, Roelofina, a widow raising young children, risked her own life to hide three Jewish families in her home. Ten people in total were saved through her courage.
At a time when helping Jews could result in imprisonment or death, Roelofina acted with extraordinary moral conviction. Riekje told this story with quiet pride, standing as a Christian granddaughter who has since met descendants of those who survived, living testimony to one woman’s bravery and compassion.
Yet the most striking moment came after the war. Roelofina, never seeking recognition or recompense, asked her neighbours why they had never raised concern despite the danger. Their answer was unanimous:
“We all knew what you were doing, but we never spoke a word.”
Their shared silence became an unseen shield, another layer of protection surrounding Roelofina and the families she hid. In a world of threat and fear, silence became an act of courage.
The second story was of Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau, a Holocaust survivor and former Chief Rabbi of Israel. As a young boy, he was deported to the horrors of Buchenwald concentration camp. On 11 April 1945, American soldiers liberated the camp, saving his life and the lives of thousands of others.
Many years later while visiting a Holocaust Museum in Seattle, he met an elderly American soldier, decorated for his service. The man introduced himself as one of the liberators of Buchenwald. With visible emotion, the soldier said:
“I am an old man, and before I return my soul to my Maker, I came to ask your forgiveness. I’m sorry that we came later than we should have.”
Imagine carrying that weight for more than sixty years, the haunting sense that perhaps, just perhaps, one could have come sooner.
Turning to those in his hearing the Rabbi said,
“I ask one thing – don’t be too late.”
Those words are not confined to history. They are a message to us today.
The Holocaust did not begin with gas chambers. It began with silence, indifference, people who saw – and waited. With people who knew – and delayed. With people who could have acted – but thought there was still time.
In this story, silence became an act of cowardice.
Reflection
Jesus said in Matthew 10:16 – “Behold, I send you out as sheep in the midst of wolves. Therefore, be wise as serpents and harmless as doves.”
King Solomon wrote in Ecclesiastes 3:7 – “A time to tear, And a time to sew; A time to keep silence, And a time to speak”.
And King David in Psalm 90:12 – “Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”
There are times when silence protects and saves the lives of vulnerable people and times when silence allows injustice and evil to continue.
The days we live in are becoming increasingly evil, yet God sends us out into that world as sheep armed with wisdom and compassion.
My prayer is as we cultivate a heart of wisdom through obedience to the Word and the Spirit we will know when silence is courageous or when it is cowardice.
Let us heed the story of Roelofina and the words Rabbi Yisrael Meir Lau and never be too late to protect and save the innocent and defy evil.
