Today is the Feast of one of my favorite saints, Maximilian Kolbe. I am always so inspired by the ultimate sacrifice he made for a fellow prison, one that he probably didn’t even know. As a father was about to be executed, leaving his children without a dad and his wife without a husband, Maximilian stepped forward and said, “I am a Catholic priest, take me instead.” He always strikes me as the epitome of Christlike-ness. He gave his life for another, just as Christ did on the cross.
My children were given a children’s book of modern saints and Maximilian is among them. Half of his body is depicted as clothed in brown religious garb and the other half in the black and white stripes of a prisoner’s jumpsuit. He was both at the same time. He lived his vocation, his prayerfulness, and his generosity even while imprisoned, perhaps even more fully while imprisoned. I can just imagine him granting hope and encouragement to those who were disheartened by their impending fate. I can imagine him huddling with a tearful family to pray with them.
This day always brings me a tinge of sadness thinking about the reality of those people in the concentration camp, but for another reason also. It is my youngest brother’s birthday. He is homeless and no one has heard from him in months. He had a phone for a few days and lost it. He was in rehab for a few months and left. He used to call us sometimes and then stopped. No one knows where he is and whether he is alive or dead.
Today’s Gospel states: “’The Son of Man is to be handed over to men, and they will kill him, and he will be raised on the third day.’ And they were overwhelmed with grief.” (Matt 17:23-24) Jesus’ disciples were overcome with grief at his impending fate, just as the prisoners were, just as sometimes I feel like I am.
But we must not overlook that last part of Jesus’ comment. “He will be raised on the third day.” And that is the reason we cannot remain in our grief for long. Because of Jesus’ resurrection, Maximilian knew where he was going. If my brother has remained steadfast in his faith, I know where he is going too. It is ok to grieve. It is human, compassionate and normal. Yet, the hope that the resurrection grants us moves us beyond sadness into rejoicing.
So whatever saddens you today, may the Holy Spirit breathe into you a sense of hope that turns to joy. For we know that one day we will be right there alongside Maximilian, alongside our loved ones and most importantly, alongside Jesus in heaven.
Hoy es la fiesta de uno de mis santos favoritos, Maximiliano Kolbe. Siempre estoy tan inspirado por el sacrificio enorme que hizo por un compañero de prisión, uno que seguramente ni conocía. Cuando un padre de familia estaba a punto de ser ejecutado, dejando a sus hijos sin papá y a su esposa sin esposo, Maximiliano se acercó y dijo: “Soy un sacerdote católico, llévame a mí en su lugar”. Siempre me parece el epítome de la semejanza a Cristo. Dio su vida por otro, tal como lo hizo Cristo en la cruz.
A mis hijos les regalaron un libro infantil de santos modernos y Maximiliano está entre ellos. La mitad de su cuerpo está vestido con un atuendo religioso marrón y la otra mitad con las rayas blancas y negras del mono de un prisionero. Era ambos al mismo tiempo. Vivió su vocación, su oración y su generosidad incluso mientras estaba encarcelado, quizás aún más plenamente allí. Puedo imaginarlo dando esperanza y aliento a aquellos que estaban desanimados por su destino inminente. Lo puedo imaginar abrazando a una familia llorosa para orar con ellos.
Este día siempre me trae un poco de tristeza pensando en la realidad de aquellas personas en el campo de concentración, pero por otra razón también. Es el cumpleaños de mi hermano menor. Viven en la calle y nadie ha sabido nada de él por varios meses. Tuvo un teléfono durante unos días y lo perdió. Estuvo en rehabilitación durante unos meses y se fue. Solía llamarnos de vez en cuando y dejó de hacerlo. Nadie sabe dónde está y si está vivo o muerto.
El Evangelio de hoy dice: “‘El Hijo del hombre va a ser entregado en manos de los hombres; lo van a matar, pero al tercer día va a resucitar’. Al oír esto, los discípulos se llenaron de tristeza.” (Mateo 17,23-24) Los discípulos de Jesús estaban abrumados por el dolor por su destino inminente, al igual que los prisioneros, al igual que a veces siento que lo estoy yo.
Pero no debemos pasar por alto esa última parte del comentario de Jesús. “Al tercer día va a resucitar.” Y por eso no podemos permanecer en nuestro dolor por mucho tiempo. Debido a la resurrección de Jesús, Maximiliano sabía adónde iba. Si mi hermano se ha mantenido firme en su fe, yo también sé adónde va. Está bien llorar. Es humano, compasivo y normal. Sin embargo, la esperanza que nos da la resurrección nos mueve más allá de la tristeza hacia el regocijo.
Entonces, sea lo que sea que te entristezca hoy, que el Espíritu Santo sople en ti un sentido de esperanza que se convierta en alegría. Porque sabemos que un día estaremos allí junto a Maximiliano, junto a nuestros seres queridos y, lo más importante, junto a Jesús en el cielo.
Feature Image Credit: Alex OToole, unsplash.com/photos/o-WfvfNraxQ
Tami Urcia grew up in Western Michigan, a middle child in a large Catholic family. She spent early young adulthood as a missionary in Mexico, studying theology and philosophy, then worked and traveled extensively before finishing her Bachelor’s Degree in Western Kentucky. She loves tackling projects, finding fun ways to keep her little ones occupied, quiet conversation with the hubby and finding unique ways to love. She works full time, is a guest blogger on CatholicMom.com and BlessedIsShe.net, and has been doing Spanish translations on the side for over 20 years.
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