THE MUSIC WE PLAY
Memorial of St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe, Martyr
Jn 15:12-16
Today is the memorial of St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe. Pope John Paul II declared him as “The Martyr of Charity. Instead of the prescribed readings and Psalm for the Monday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time, I kindly propose to your reflection the readings and Psalm indicated for the Mass of St. Maximillian Kolbe.
Maximillian Mary Kolbe was born in Poland in 1894. He joined the Franciscans and consecrated himself to Mary Immaculate. He undertook an intense apostolic mission in Europe and Asia through the Militia of the Immaculata that preached through the print media. During the holocaust, he was arrested and confined at Auschwitz. One day when one of the prisoners escaped the concentration camp, the Nazis decided to execute several men in exchange for the escapee. Maximillian was not chosen for execution. Instead, he chose to be executed in exchange for a father of a large family. The Nazis could not believe the “foolishness” of Maximillian and gave what he requested. The father of a large family was spared – and even lived to see the day of Maximillian’s canonization – while Maximillian was thrown into solitary confinement. For days, Maximillian, together with several chosen inmates, was not given any food or drink while he encouraged them in the faith, heard their confession and led them in prayer. Finally, Maximillian was martyred through lethal injection in 1941. Aside from being the “Martyr of Charity”, Pope John Paul proclaimed St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe the “Patron of Our Suffering Century”.
The martyrdom of St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe is a shining example of the words of the Lord in today’s Gospel: “Greater love no man has than to lay down his life for his friends.” Today our homily is his life and his love. Of him, the psalmist rightly declares, “Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones.”
Let me just share with you a story I recall whenever I think of St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe.
It is dawn and the cold breeze of a new day fills the courtyard of a prison in Portugal. A prisoner stands right at the center, facing the firing squad. The prisoner is a priest. He is sentenced to death because he opposes the slave trade that the Portuguese government implements in one of its colonies. As the dawn breaks, the prisoner’s spirit remains intact. Death is imminent but fear for it the prisoner seems to have nothing.
One moment flows to another, death nears and an officer approaches the prisoner. “Any last request?” the officer asks the prisoner in Portuguese. “Just one,” says the prisoner, “I wish to play my flute for the last time.” The prisoner is given his flute. The firing squad is stood at ease. With his flute, the prisoner plays a melody.
The courtyard of the prison is filled with music that sounds all the more beautiful in such a strange place. The officer feels something strange deep within him: the more the music plays, the more absurd his task seems to be. Immediately, the officer orders the prisoner to stop playing, lest the strangely beautiful music carries him away and he totally abandons his duty to execute the priest. He blindfolds the priest-prisoner and, walking to a safe distance, gives the command: “Ready! Aim! Fire!” Instantly, the priest dies.
But not his music. The music lingers on even long after the priest dies. Confused, the officer and the executioners cannot help but wonder: “in the face of certain death, where does the music come from?”
Where do you think, my friend?
Jn 15:12-16
Today is the memorial of St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe. Pope John Paul II declared him as “The Martyr of Charity. Instead of the prescribed readings and Psalm for the Monday of the Nineteenth Week in Ordinary Time, I kindly propose to your reflection the readings and Psalm indicated for the Mass of St. Maximillian Kolbe.
Maximillian Mary Kolbe was born in Poland in 1894. He joined the Franciscans and consecrated himself to Mary Immaculate. He undertook an intense apostolic mission in Europe and Asia through the Militia of the Immaculata that preached through the print media. During the holocaust, he was arrested and confined at Auschwitz. One day when one of the prisoners escaped the concentration camp, the Nazis decided to execute several men in exchange for the escapee. Maximillian was not chosen for execution. Instead, he chose to be executed in exchange for a father of a large family. The Nazis could not believe the “foolishness” of Maximillian and gave what he requested. The father of a large family was spared – and even lived to see the day of Maximillian’s canonization – while Maximillian was thrown into solitary confinement. For days, Maximillian, together with several chosen inmates, was not given any food or drink while he encouraged them in the faith, heard their confession and led them in prayer. Finally, Maximillian was martyred through lethal injection in 1941. Aside from being the “Martyr of Charity”, Pope John Paul proclaimed St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe the “Patron of Our Suffering Century”.
The martyrdom of St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe is a shining example of the words of the Lord in today’s Gospel: “Greater love no man has than to lay down his life for his friends.” Today our homily is his life and his love. Of him, the psalmist rightly declares, “Precious in the eyes of the Lord is the death of His faithful ones.”
Let me just share with you a story I recall whenever I think of St. Maximillian Mary Kolbe.
It is dawn and the cold breeze of a new day fills the courtyard of a prison in Portugal. A prisoner stands right at the center, facing the firing squad. The prisoner is a priest. He is sentenced to death because he opposes the slave trade that the Portuguese government implements in one of its colonies. As the dawn breaks, the prisoner’s spirit remains intact. Death is imminent but fear for it the prisoner seems to have nothing.
One moment flows to another, death nears and an officer approaches the prisoner. “Any last request?” the officer asks the prisoner in Portuguese. “Just one,” says the prisoner, “I wish to play my flute for the last time.” The prisoner is given his flute. The firing squad is stood at ease. With his flute, the prisoner plays a melody.
The courtyard of the prison is filled with music that sounds all the more beautiful in such a strange place. The officer feels something strange deep within him: the more the music plays, the more absurd his task seems to be. Immediately, the officer orders the prisoner to stop playing, lest the strangely beautiful music carries him away and he totally abandons his duty to execute the priest. He blindfolds the priest-prisoner and, walking to a safe distance, gives the command: “Ready! Aim! Fire!” Instantly, the priest dies.
But not his music. The music lingers on even long after the priest dies. Confused, the officer and the executioners cannot help but wonder: “in the face of certain death, where does the music come from?”
Where do you think, my friend?
posted by Fr. Bobby @ 3:00 PM
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