By Danny Minton

“I believe in the sun, though it be dark.
I believe in God, though He be silent.
I believe in neighborly love, though it be unable to reveal itself.”

Beneath the old buildings of Cologne, Germany, Catholic Scouts discovered unused passageways. When the German Gestapo was moving “undesirables” from the streets of the cities, many Jewish families fled to these underground passages to hide. 

Unitarian Universalist minister Everett Howe came across the passageways while researching the origin of the phrase above. He discovered places with fully equipped living conditions. It is thought that those who hid received their food over the months from the Catholic Scouts and others who shared their rations. It was in one of these living areas that Howe found these words, scratched on the wall by someone living a life of silence and fear.

Other versions gave the words a slightly different wording and attributed them to a WWII concentration camp; however, Howe’s research found the true origin. The other version says:

“I believe in the sun even when it’s not shining.
I believe in love when I feel it not.
I believe in God even when he is silent.”

Written in German, Howe came up with another loose translation of the phrase.

“I believe in the sun, even in the darkness.
I believe in God, even if God is silent.
I believe in compassion, even when it must remain hidden.”

The first candle that many Christian groups light during this season is the “Candle of Hope.” As we ponder the words written by someone in hiding, it is a reminder to us all that, even in the worst of times, the one thing we can cling to to survive is hope.

Living in the darkness of life under the city, one could not see or feel the sun shining down. However, even though surrounded by darkness, they trusted that God would continue to provide light to those above and that one day they would feel its warmth again. We believe, not because of what we see, but because of the trust we have in God, even though we sit in the darkness of fear and despair. Those in hiding never doubted that the sun continued to shine, bound with the ties of hope they held in secret.

We believe in God, not because we physically see Him, but because we see Him through the love and works he does in our lives. Those hiding could keep hope in their hearts because they knew they were being watched over, even though they could not see Him. They could not hear His voice, but they could feel His presence. Today, we have the indwelling of the Spirit who, when we allow him, strengthens us with hope by the silence of God’s voice in our hearts.

The third thought is the blessing of those who secretly helped them with the things they needed to stay alive. The compassion shown to those in hiding gave them hope that not all men are evil and that the world is full of people willing to take a chance to give others the hope that awaits.

Another young Jewish girl in hiding, Anne Frank, wrote in her diary, “Where there’s hope, there’s life. It fills us with fresh courage and makes us strong again.” Those who hid during the Holocaust had one thing that could not be taken from them: hope. Though trapped by their circumstances, they could at times find comfort only in the hope of returning to their lives. They may not have been able to see the sun, but they knew God would continue to provide light in the darkness. They couldn’t hear God audibly, yet they could listen to the silent comfort of His voice in their hearts. They depended on others and were comforted by the love of those who sacrificed.

When life seems dark, and we can’t see the light, never stop believing that Jesus, the light of the world, is ahead of us, leading the way. When we question, “Where are you, God? Are you there?” Close your eyes and listen for the still, quiet voice of God as he speaks to your heart. When you lose faith in humanity, stop and look at all the good around you, especially the quiet things done by small acts of kindness.

Today, take some time to pause in your life and find a still, quiet place. There, in the silence, think back on the person who, over 80 years ago, took a stone and carved out these three phrases, their testimony of their love and trust in God when everything around them told them not to. 

“I believe in the sun, though it be dark.
I believe in God, though He be silent.
I believe in neighborly love, though it be unable to reveal itself.”

Danny Minton, a member of Southern Hills Church of Christ, is a hospital chaplain