Once, I was deeply shaken by a secular movie about a real person. Nazi Germany, 1939… The forced registration of all Jews begins, along with their relocation to special ghettos. It wouldn't be long before tens of thousands would be sent to concentration camps and gas chambers…
Driven by the desire to get rich, a young man—a womanizer and adventurer by nature—easily builds relationships with SS officers and high-ranking officials in Germany. He arrives in the Polish city of Krakow and opens a factory producing enamelware for strategic purposes.
On the advice of his manager and accountant, who was Jewish, he starts hiring Jews from the ghettos and camps to work in his factory. But it wasn't simply hiring. Each worker had to be bought from the SS, paying a significant amount in German marks. However, as his manager convinced him, Jews were "much cheaper." Working at such a factory as a "highly skilled specialist" offered some guarantee of survival.
What began as a business venture to make money eventually changed him. The factory owner, purchasing Jews to work for him, spent all he had and ultimately saved 1,300 people from the gas chambers.
The final scenes of the movie struck me profoundly. The war had ended. The Jews he had saved gathered around him, grateful, and presented him with a ring made from their dental crowns as a token of thanks. Overcome with emotion, the man—who had once been motivated solely by profit—broke down in tears and said, "I did so little! I wasted so much money… I could have saved more… I could have saved human lives. This car… why did I keep it?! I could have bought freedom for 10 people with it! This pin… it’s pure gold… that's two more lives!"
As I listened to his confession, I suddenly imagined myself on my final day, looking back on my life—on how and where I spent "my" resources, as I thought of them. I pictured seeing millions of people suffering in hell, including those I had lived and worked alongside, and realizing with utter despair how many opportunities I had forever lost to "save one more life."
"What did I spend my life on? Why did I buy all these things? How much do I have that I never really needed… I could have used that money to save lives— not just one, not two, but many—saving them from eternal destruction!"
Even now, I regret many things. What will I feel when I stand on the threshold of eternity?
The movie was called Schindler’s List. Oskar Schindler had a list—names of Jews he purchased through his manager to save them from certain death. But what about us? Do we have such "lists" of people doomed for destruction whom we want to "redeem"?
How many of us are willing—not to become poor—but to share a little, to help save even a few from eternal death? I know there are many generous, selfless people out there. But are you and I among them?
Last year, after hosting several meetings and children’s camps among the Mugata Gypsies in Uzbekistan, a small group of local Christians felt a deep desire to share the Gospel with these poor, illiterate, and often despised people. A team of three started the work, but, like any ministry, it requires not only their dedicated efforts but also many prayers and financial support.
This is where they struggle. They reached out to us for help. Several hundred people read the first stories about this ministry. A few responded, some expressed sympathy, others sent blessings or promised to think about helping. But that’s where it stopped.
Yet, if even a fraction of those readers had responded—with prayers and a monthly donation of just $5-10—the team in Uzbekistan could have continued their work, sharing the Good News and saving lives from eternal destruction.
Just $5-10 a month! Almost anyone could afford that—even a retiree living on a pension. Enough to save one more life.
But will they do it? Will I?
Olga Avetisova
Email:
Phone: (916) 716-2950
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More about ministry to Gypsies Mugata: https://pcsba.com/index.php/en/ministry-to-the-gypsies-mugata-in-uzbekistan
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