5th Sunday in Ordinary Time, C        February 5, 2007

During World War II, the Nazi’s established a work camp for prisoners in the town of Yanov in Poland.  Since it was a work camp, security was not as tight as in a concentration camp, and prisoners were occasionally allowed to leave the camp, provided a family member was left behind to insure the prisoner's return.

While on leave, a group of devout Jews decided to smuggle a scroll of the Torah into camp.  The Torah, the first five books of the Bible, is the holiest of scriptures for Jews.  So, the workers dismantled the Torah, piece by piece, hiding parts of it in their bodies and clothing and returned to camp, where they hid the pieces under floorboards and inside mattresses.  When it was safe, a piece at a time would be brought out for reading and prayer.  In this way God's Word lived among the persecuted but persevering community.  Its beloved Torah was whole in spirit if physically divided into pieces.

When the camp was finally liberated, the precious fragments of the Torah were pieced back together.  Over the years the holy scroll remained with the last living survivor of Yanov, who before he died, arranged for it to be brought to the US, where, today, it travels from congregation to congregation as an important symbol of hope and courage.

If, instead of a group of Jews, it was a group of Catholics in that Nazi camp, and you were among them, and you and the others could smuggle into camp one thing, what would you choose?

Today St. Paul reminds us of the core realities of our faith, of the center point, of the most important beliefs of the Church.  Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and he was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures.  Would you, then, smuggle in a crucifix, the representation of the death of Christ?  Or would you bring in the Blessed Sacrament from the tabernacle, a small amount of the Holy Eucharist, the real presence of the living Christ, risen from the dead?  You would keep it safe for adoration and worship, while knowing that in the form of bread it would not last indefinitely, but eventually would have to be consumed, after which you would be without the presence of the Eucharist.   Or would you smuggle in something else, a Bible, or a rosary, or a relic of a favorite saint to be a visible reminder of that saint’s prayer for you during your suffering?  What would you want with you as a constant reminder of God’s love for you, as a sign of your faith and hope in God? 

Such concrete, tangible religious objects are important things to have, to carry with us, to keep before us in our homes and workplaces, as a reminder each day of who we are and what we believe.