No Greater Love - Lord's Table

John 15:13

13 Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.

Romans 5:7-8

7 For scarcely for a righteous man will one die: yet peradventure for a good man some would even dare to die.

8 But God commendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.

Galatians 6:14

14 But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the world.

Kolbe's little "w" and big "W"

About a year ago my [Charles Colson's] parents had the opportunity to travel in Europe. There were many reminders of World War II there, and during the course of their tour, they visited war memorials and historic military bunkers. But the most memorable stop on their tour was the remains of the Nazi concentration camp Treblinka. What horrible thoughts enter your mind as you walk past human furnaces which incinerated the innocent bodies of hundreds of thousands of Jews. You see the barracks where once healthy active people were crushed in together like cattle, three to a bunk, which were stacked four high. You think about the cold and the pain and the anguish and the unimaginable horror of it all, and you wonder how anyone could have ever held onto hope in such a place. Could there have been any good in the midst of all that evil? Could faith have ever penetrated the darkness?

In 1941, an edict went out from the Nazis written by Adolf Hitler himself. It detailed the extermination of Jews and the Polish intelligentsia. And, as for the priests and spiritual leaders of Poland, Hitler wrote, "They will preach what we want them to preach. If any priest acts differently, we shall make short work of him. The task of the priest is to keep the Poles quiet, stupid and dull-witted."

About this time Father Maximilian Kolbe was teaching "w=W". Little w stands for my will and big W stands for the will of God. When the two wills run counter, it means the cross. Our will must be identified with God's." That certainly wasn't what Hitler had in mind, and so Father Kolbe was rounded up and imprisoned. In May of 1941, he was sentenced to an even more "efficient" and evil concentration camp called Auschwitz.

Father Kolbe was assigned to the timber detail. This meant that he would have to carry heavy trunks from one place to another. Guards always stood by to make sure the prisoners did everything with a trot. Although not terribly old, Father Kolbe's body had already been weakened by years of slim rations and the several weeks he had already spent in a Nazi prison. Under the load of the heavy wood, he collapsed. Immediately, officers converged on him, kicking him and beating him with whips. They stretched him out on a pile of wood and gave him 50 lashes, then shoved him in a ditch and left him for dead.

Remarkably though, Father Kolbe survived and was transferred to Barracks 14 where he continued to minister to his fellow prisoners -- praying with them and comforting them. He knew that Christ would eventually triumph, and Father Kolbe simply wanted to be faithful to His Lord.

One night after a man had apparently escaped from Barracks 14, the prisoners were lined up and shown empty gallows. This meant the prisoner may have made it out alive. It also meant death for some of those who remained. All the other barracks were dismissed except Barracks 14. There they stood in the heat of the day. Hours passed. Some wavered and fell, and were promptly beaten, but Father Kolbe managed to stand. By evening, the Commandant came out to render his sentence. "10 of you will die for the escaped man in the starvation bunker. Next time it will be twenty."

Anything would be better than the starvation bunker. A bullet, the gas chamber, hanging -- they all seemed humane compared to the starvation bunker. No food. No water. There were horror stories that circulated about how after a day or two when they dragged the bodies out, they didn't even look like humans anymore.

The commandant walked among the rows of prisoners reading off numbers from their filthy shirts. The chosen groaned and cried. "My poor wife," one man cried. "My poor children, what will they do?" Suddenly there was a commotion among the ranks. A prisoner had broken out of line and was calling for the commandant. It was unheard of to leave the ranks, let alone ever address a Nazi officer. With his hand on his revolver, the commandant shouted, "What does this Polish pig want of me?" The other prisoners gasped. It was their beloved Father Kolbe, the priest who had nourished their souls. Not Father Kolbe!

The frail priest spoke softly, "I would like to die in place of one of the men you condemned." "Why?" snapped the commandant. "I am an old man, sir, good for nothing. My life will serve no purpose." "In whose place do you want to die?" "For that one," Kolbe said pointing to the man who had bemoaned his wife and children. The commandant snorted again and had Kolbe's number written down and the other man's erased. As Father Kolbe passed his fellow prisoner, the astonished look had not even become gratitude yet. But Father Kolbe was not looking for gratitude. If he was to lay down his life for another, the fulfillment had to be in the act of obedience itself. The joy must be found in submitting his small will to the will of God.

As the guards shoved them down the stairs to the basement, he shouted, "remove your clothes!" Christ died on the cross naked for me, Father Kolbe thought. It is only fitting that I suffer as he suffered to gain the glory he gained. In the basement, the 10 men were herded into a dark, windowless cell. "You will dry up like flowers," sneered one of the guards as he swung the heavy iron door shut.

As the hours turned to days, the camp became aware of something extraordinary happening in the death cell. Past prisoners had spent their time screaming and attacking one another in despair. But now, those outside the cell heard the faint sounds of singing. This time their was a shepherd to lead the men through the valley of the shadow of death. Perhaps that is why Father Kolbe was the last to die. When the bunker was needed for more prisoners, the guards found 4 still alive. In the light of a flashlight, the guards saw the face of Father Kolbe, a living skeleton propped against the wall. There was still a shadow of a smile on his face and his eyes were wide open fixed on some far away vision. The guards injected each prisoner to finish the job the starvation bunker could not complete, finally making their way to Father Kolbe. It seemed like a waste of the drug, but they had their orders. In a moment, Father Kolbe was dead.

In Auschwitz today there is a flame that burns as a reminder not of the Nazi atrocities, but of the hope that did exist in the midst of such great horrors. It celebrates the fact that faith and hope and love can exist in all circumstances. And, for those whose trust was in the Lord, it represents the privilege we are sometimes given as Christians to be united to Christ in his sufferings. It should change our whole perspective.

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