Like a gold ring or an ornament of gold
Proverbs 25:12 ESV
is a wise reprover to a listening ear.
The writer mentions two parties in this verse, the speaker and the listener, and both have an important part in the relationship.
The speaker is described as wise, and his words are corrective. And, though it is not stated specifically the speaker has a willingness to engage another who, given the context, is not doing something correctly. Thus, we could summarize the speaker’s qualities as wisdom and willingness.
In a similar way, the listener demonstrates a willingness to be engaged and corrected by another person, which demonstrates his own wisdom. We can say this with confidence, though it is not explicitly mentioned in this verse, because elsewhere in Proverbs, such a person is described as wise. For example, 10:1 says, “A wise son hears his father’s instruction ….”
The word picture used to illustrate these two people is a gold ring or a gold ornament. These items are used to add value or enhance someone or something else. Thus, the wise reprover adds value to the wise listener. In other words, “Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another” (Proverbs 27:17).
Questions:
1. In what way are you preparing yourself to be a wise reprover? How do you build your credibility to offer reproof to another person.
2. Do you have a listening ear, one that accepts correction? When was the last time you received correction/instruction from another person? Did you receive that correction happily or begrudgingly? In what way can you improve in this area?
Israel’s Holocaust Remembrance Day
In honor of Yom HaShoah, Israel’s Holocaust Remembrance Day, I am re-posting this article.
Beniko Gihon #137010
Working with tour groups in Israel is [almost] always a blessing. It’s exciting to see visitors’ faces when, as they say in Hebrew, “the coin falls.” In other words, when “the light comes on” or the connection between a certain event and place happens. I love to see the joy of discovery, especially as it relates to the Bible. But my groups generally have modern cultural and historical interests, too. Every group is different, and I’m regularly on the look out for things out of the ordinary and not on the itinerary that will make my group’s visit to Israel more special than it might already be. For this group, I found that special historical gem in the breakfast line.
As I approached the special-order egg line, I noticed the tattoo on his arm, 137010. Immediately, I knew he was a holocaust survivor because I’ve seen these tattoos in the museum, and probably a dozen times in person. However, I never had the nerve to ask the bearer to share his/her story; I just imagined what it might have been.
This time was different. I took a deep breath and asked the elderly gentleman a) if he spoke Hebrew, and b) if I could ask a question. “Yes,” he answered to both questions. I was hesitant, but I proceeded to ask if he would tell me the story of the numeric tattoo that appeared on his left forearm. I was afraid he would be embarrassed, but he wasn’t. In fact, he seemed pleased that I asked.
Beniko Gihon #137010
Interacting with my inquiry about his tattoo, he said, “My name is Beniko Gihon; in Germany my name was changed to 137010. I am a Jew originally from Greece.” He continued with a moving, two-minute version of his story. His family had been rounded up in Thessaloniki, and he was the only survivor. Over the course of five years, he was systematically transferred to/from Auschwitz-Birkenau, the Warsaw Ghetto, and Dachau. He had a variety of jobs, but mainly focused on his work in the crematoria.
I was translating his story for a man from my group and noticed that others had started to lean in closer to listen in on our conversation, which indicated that they found this interesting, too. After a couple minutes, his eggs and mine were ready, so, unfortunately, we had to bring this encounter to a close. I thanked him for sharing his story, we shook hands, and parted ways.
I found a table near my group and sat down by myself. To say that his story was gut wrenching would be an exaggerated understatement. But, his story wasn’t the thing that affected me the most. It was the question he posed: “Why were the Christians so quiet?”
I wanted my group to hear Beniko’s story, but I wondered if that would be asking too much. As I ate my breakfast, I kept an eye on him from across the room and wondered whether I should ask him to speak on the bus. Since he didn’t seem to mind my initial inquiry, I decided to go for it, and the outcome was just what I had hoped.
After my group boarded the bus, I brought them up to speed on what was about to happen, then I introduced Mr. Beniko. He climbed the stairs and stood proudly in the front of the bus and began to share his story.
Beniko, which is the Greek version of Benjamin, started with some details of his family and how the Nazis came to Greece and killed so many. The rest were taken to the labor and death camps in Germany and Poland, which is where he learned to speak German, and where his name was changed to 137010.
His story lasted longer than I had given him, which I knew it would. But, seeing him standing in the front of the bus and hearing his biography was worth every minute.
Some specific details that pierced my heart:
Beniko’s story, made the horrors of the Holocaust real and personal for us, impacting each in a slightly different way. I tried to give some current perspective to his presentation because the easy thing would be to say, “I wasn’t there” because none of us were. I reminded the group of the words of James 1:27 that pure religion is to care for the widows and orphans, which I understand to mean “take care of those who can’t take care of themselves.” I also think that being born again demands that Christians have an active interest in “the least of these” (Mt 25).
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