Holocaust survivor and Nobel Laureate Elie Wiesel, in one of his essays, relays his experience in Auschwitz. A Jew was being executed while the rest of the camp watched aghast. As he hung on the gallows, struggling in the throes of death, an onlooker muttered under his breath, “Where is God?”
At that moment, Wiesel says, a voice within resounded, “There, on the gallows, where else?”
There is something especially galling about the innocent being killed. Our hearts freeze when we hear news of lives lost by the ruthlessness of indifference. Yet, what is it about men and women, who though stripped of everything, except the bare reality of existence, can find in such darkness, a flickering flame of hope?
How is it possible for hearts to burn with intense charity, even as mercilessness hangs as thick as a fog?
The Feast of Saint Maximilian Kolbe
Today we celebrate the feast of Saint Maximillian Kolbe, patron of prisoners and living testimony to the shining light of Christ amidst the darkest moments of human history.
When the Nazis invaded Poland in 1939, Maximilian Kolbe was serving as a priest. He was immediately arrested and taken to Auschwitz where he was stripped of any vestige of his former life, his habit taken away and replaced by a prisoner’s striped uniform.
One day, in 1941, in retaliation for the escape of a prisoner, ten men in Maximilian’s cellblock were chosen randomly to be executed. One of those men cried out, “What will happen to my wife and my children?” Moved by his plight, Maximilian volunteered to take his place and the substitution was allowed.
What followed were weeks of unimaginable horror. The prisoners were stripped naked, forced into a bunker, and deprived of food and water. Two weeks later, impatient that prisoners were not dying fast enough, Maximilian and four others were executed by carbolic acid injections.
Leading to this death, eyewitnesses recounted Maximilian’s countenance as one bright and radiant, burning with unparalleled zeal as he sang hymns and encouraged fellow prisoners.
This same light is infused in our Baptism. This light does not take us out of this world, to some illusionary shores of safety. This light propels us forward in courage, into the shadows and gallows of our modern Auschwitzes, so we can cast light, so we can show the way home to those lost in darkness.
Prophesying Hope
This May, I visited my mom for the first time in two years. During the pandemic, her dementia had steadily progressed. Though I’d seen glimpses of her delusions while we video-chatted, nothing prepared me more for what I would see face-to-face. She didn’t recognize me. Her once exuberant countenance was now consumed by confusion, the plaques and tangles of dementia not only choking away old memories but also piercing her dignity, even her very soul.
My dad described it as the "most bitter and most humiliating of all chalices"…. yet not in the absence of Hope.
Sometimes the weight of our world can feel like the darkness of Auschwitz. Immersed in some unfathomable tragedy, hanging under excruciating gallows of life, we might find ourselves like Elie Wiesel’s comrade, wondering where God is. We may look at our demented loved ones, and wonder if suffering has any meaning at all. We may be tempted to settle, to compromise, to extricate pain from what seems opposed to our immediate, temporal happiness.
In such times, St. Maximillian calls on us to prophesy hope. It is hope that enabled him to trustingly walk forward, even in the face of death. It is hope that grounded him in the promises of Christ. It is hope that protected him from the temptation of thinking life's tragedies are but random coincidences, outside of Providence—only hope in the Risen Christ.
This season has unleashed hope for me in new ways. It has taught me to speak life even over what seems dry and dead. It has given me courage to see beyond the frail body of my mother to a vision of God flooding her with eternal consolations.
I believe that my mother, even at her foggiest, remembers that day follows night. The light is stronger still. This is hope.
Greater Love, Everyday
Those few days at home were a catalyst for change. I discovered the gift of the present moment. With unexpected medical complications and continual changes in daily routine, my spiritual life was tossed upside down. I had no time for quiet mornings or personal prayer. I felt exhausted wondering if an active spiritual life was even possible for those plagued by such sicknesses.
Until I saw my dad.
His daily sacrifice for my mother, being fully present to her needs, taught me that our seasons, though devoid of religious activities, could still be richly inundated with spiritual fruit. His faithfulness encouraged me not to be weary of doing little things for the love of God, who regards not the greatness of the work, but the love with which it is performed. His witness inspired me to see everyday as an opportunity to practice “Greater love has no one than this, that a person will lay down his life for his friends” (John 15:13).
What does it mean to "lay down our lives"?
We may be tempted to recall heroic acts of Saints like Maximillian Kolbe and wonder if such holiness is even possible in our everyday moments? We may wonder if serving our spouses and children even counts, as these take place in the confinement of our own home.
Yet these are the very places Christ calls us to "lay down our lives," and practice "greater love." Each day of our lives contains within it the possibility for sacrifice. Each day is an opportunity to lay down my need to understand why things happen the way they do. I can lay down my fears about being validated by what I do. I can lay down my desire to prove my worth, and lay down my pride that begs me to build walls.
Each day, I can lay down my life. Each day, I can practice greater love.
Sister, where is Christ calling you to greater love?
Perhaps in sleepless nights while you soothe a fussy child? Perhaps patiently responding to repeated requests from your teenager? Perhaps giving up free time so your spouse can have his?
Remember, Maximilian’s greatest acts didn’t emerge from a vacuum. Like Mary, his fiat was perpetual, a result of a lifetime of being conformed to Christ through prayer and sacrifice... each day. Only by consistently practicing self-denial by taking up his cross daily could Saint Maximilian be conformed to Christ to such a degree that, in that pivotal moment, he was able to imitate Christ on the Cross, laying down his life, so another might live.
No More Night
Sister, we live in a world where Rachel weeps for her children, where loved ones go mute and where sickness leaves us shell shocked. Our tendency is to become so overwhelmed in the aftermath of these horrors that we lose sight of the sky above infused with heavenly light, reflecting Him Who willingly went to "the gallows" on our behalf, He Who, in the place of unimaginable horror, proclaimed peace to the prisoners.
It is this Risen Christ that Saint Maximillian Kolbe radiated and followed. It is this Christ whose unceasing whisper beckons us, re-directing our earthly pilgrimage toward shores of our lasting city, where one day, “night will be no more,” for God Himself will be our light (see Revelation 21:23).
For those in Christ Jesus, the last word will always be light.
As for now, we lament, we stand in the gap, we press on forward, we turn to Saint Maximillian Kolbe, we pray for greater love, we lay down our lives.
Saint Maximilian Kolbe // A Prophet of Hope #BISblog //Click to tweet
Michelle Karen D’Silva is a regular contributor to the BIS blog and an itinerant Catholic speaker housed in the little peninsula of Qatar. With an immense passion for discipleship, her vision is to see young people bloom into radical future saints. And so she finds herself most at home engaging with these fire-starters over conversations coupled with karak and hummus. Whether preaching, writing, or training, she never fails to return to Pope Benedict XVI—her go-to guy—who constantly inspires her to live out the “Call to Greatness” as an empowered woman empowering women in ministry, wife to a doting hubby, and mama to two constantly hungry sheep. Find out more about her here. Read all of Michelle's posts here.
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