The paradox of a scroll tasting sweet to Ezekiel despite being inscribed with lamentation and woe, suggests that it wasn’t the lamentations and woe, per se, that made it sweet, but rather that these were calling God’s rebellious people back to fidelity and friendship. In this sense, all suffering that serves to draw us back to God becomes sweet to those who long to see his face. Some of this suffering’s consolation arises from its tendency to undermine our pride and our sense of self-sufficiency; thereby developing that childlike spirit without which, as Jesus assures us, we will not enter the kingdom of heaven. Entry into the kingdom can, of course, result in additional suffering inflicted no longer as a call to conversion, but rather by enemies of the gospel and its truth. Maximillian Kolbe bears witness to this reality as well as to that heroic love that freely chooses suffering for the good of others. Through his intercession may we be given the grace to allow unavoidable sufferings to humble our pride and open our hearts in childlike trust to the saving mercy and love of Jesus Christ.
Christine Kay says
I traveled to Poland in 2009 with my daughter. We saw Maximillian Kolbe’s cell. The sense of holiness seemed all around me and I must admit I cried. Auschwitz itself was a real eye-opener; human hair and children’s toys behind glass walls. Suitcases belonging to prisoners and prosthetic devices too. Fr. Kolbe was truly a son of God and the man he saved, a Polish family man, lived until his 70’s or 80’s I believe.