We’re all called to holiness, to strive for a full Christian life, to imitate Christ. How many times have I heard this? Saints have certainly nailed this holiness thing, so in effect we all should aspire to sainthood. Granted, this statement might be unpalatable and absurd for many, but that’s the way of the world.
For a former skirt chasing, excessive drinking, profanity spouting, selfish living, marginally good guy, it seems like more than a stretch for the likes of me. It would be tantamount to my dog sculpting a masterpiece equivalent to or even surpassing Michelangelo’s Pieta.
And for a man who’s worried about the election, despises abortion, cherishes religious freedom, laments secularism and self-flagellates (figuratively) over his roller-coaster faith, I need saints to guide me.
I enjoy reading about the extraordinary contributions of saints who have inspired legions in the two thousand years of Christendom since Jesus walked the earth. In particular, the martyrs blow me away. Why? Unbelievable faith.
It’s easier for me to identify with modern martyrs in that I might have shared common experiences. However, in regard to Saint Maximilian Kolbe, our shared modernity is as far as the comparisons go. Father Kolbe, a man who displayed unbelievable courage and holiness, is recognized for his unwavering fidelity to Christ. This iconic saint’s story is remarkable. If I imagine that fate could somehow inject me into the circumstances of Father Kolbe’s life, my actions would never mirror his; they’d fall well short. The reason? Saints know how to love. I don’t. I still use training wheels.
Prior to World War II, Father Kolbe had already achieved great stature as a Polish holy man and shepherd to others. Unfortunately, his work and influence would threaten the Nazi leadership. During World War II, Father Kolbe provided shelter to refugees but was eventually arrested by the Gestapo. He ended up in Auschwitz.