Two Brothers

Let's pretend there was a man. No, really. As hard to believe as it may be, there actually was. Let's say he grew up kind and caring and tried to do good wherever he went. Maybe he helped the poor, and stood up for the helpless. Maybe he became a physician and tried to cure people's ills. In the process he might have made some medical breakthrough that changed millions of lives for the better.

Perhaps he had children and raised them to be good. In their sorrow, he comforted them. In their pain, he healed them. In their joy, he rejoiced with them.

He lived in Germany at the turn of the 20th century. He was a German by birth, but disagreed with the Nazis and, because he was a good man, rescued some Jews from the Holocaust. Later in life, he wrote about his efforts and the other things that happened during the war. His memoirs were powerful, and he won awards both literary and honorary for his tales of sacrifice. To the day he died, he did all he could to help his fellow men.

Now let's give our imaginary friend a name. Let's call him Gustav Hitler, and pretend that instead of dying from diphtheria on Dec. 8, 1887, just over two years after his birth, he had lived to do all the things we listed above. The man was Hitler's brother.

Does that change how you feel about him?

For the better, or the worse?

So, all you folks out there who like to point out that in Mormon theology Jesus Christ is the spirit brother of Satan, think about that. Does having an evil brother demean you at all, or does it make you seem all the greater for having overcome the things that drew him down? Are you any lesser because someone close to you made poor choices? And most of all, how would you like to be talked about, in spite of all your efforts to do good, as Hitler's brother?