September 1983 Print

 

THERE HAS BEEN a very hostile reaction within the Liberal establishment to the canonization of Father Maximilian Kolbe. A concerted campaign is now underway to smear him as anti-semitic, a charge which is quite false. The story of his heroic death is familiar: as a result of his press apostolate he was arrested, sent to Auschwitz, branded with the number 16670, and offered to die in place of a married man with children who had been condemned with nine others to die of starvation in an underground bunker. A priest murdered by the Nazis would, one might have imagined, been very popular with Liberals today. The scourge of the swastika was certainly one which deserves the execration of every decent human being, Archbishop Lefebvre's father was another of its victims, but Nazism has rightfully and thankfully been extirpated. But the havoc wrought by Hitler never came near to equalling that for which Stalin and his heirs were and are responsible. Yet, for the Liberal, a long-dead Nazism is still portrayed as the great danger to mankind, and the constantly expanding Communist tyranny is ignored. Why, then, has the canonization of Father Kolbe proved so unpopular? The reason is that his principal apostolate was the apostolate of the press, and among the prime concerns of his publication was the menace of masonry. European masonry certainly saw Father Kolbe as its most dangerous opponent, and has been outraged at his canonization.

When the Germans invaded Poland he turned his friary into a shelter for refugees, among whom were 2,000 Jews. Early in 1941 he was allowed to publish one edition of his journal, Knight, which almost certainly brought about his arrest. In this issue he wrote the following memorable words. They sum up precisely what we here at The Angelus strive to attain in our own very humble manner. We hope that when we do not live up to this idea our readers will tell us. They are words which should be an inspiration to every traditional Catholic:

No one in the world can change truth. What we can do and should do is to seek truth and to serve it when we have found it. The real conflict is the inner conflict. Beyond armies of occupation and the hecatombs of extermination camps, there are two irreconcilable enemies in the depth of every soul: good and evil, sin and love. And what use are the victories on the battlefield if we are defeated in our innermost personal selves?

We are publishing an article from L'Osservatore Romano (27 September 1982, English edition), which will indicate the success of Father Kolbe's press apostolate. Its scope astonished us; we are sure it will astonish our readers. The information this article contains is of great interest and certainly justifies our reprinting it for you. But the information which it does not contain is of equal interest: there is not one word referring to Father Kolbe's anti-masonic apostolate. Can it be that this is something which embarrasses even the Vatican at a time when the newly-published revised Code of Canon Law does not contain automatic excommunication for Catholics who enroll in Masonry? There is bitter irony in the canonization of a priest whose life was dedicated to a cause which, it appears, those who promoted his canonization do not endorse. Perhaps they should remind themselves of St. Maximilian Kolbe's words: "No one in the world can change truth."

* * * * *

On a cold January day in 1922, Father Maximilian Kolbe, seated at his desk in the friary of Krakow, made his last corrections in the first copy of his magazine. It was almost a year and half late in coming off the presses. Financial difficulties and the unexpected death of a confrere had made it impossible for him to meet the deadline.

The twenty-eight-year old priest was undertaking an ambitious project which he clearly formulated in the editorial of the Knight of the Immaculate: "The Knight is not only to deepen our knowledge of the faith, indicate a form of asceticism or to teach the faithful about Christian mysticism, but, according to the principles of the Knights of the Immaculate, it is to involve all believers in the work of converting non-Catholics." The tone of his magazine, he went on to say, would be friendly toward all because it would be motivated by Christ's love. Only that kind of love could bring to the fullness of truth anyone who was searching for happiness.

Despite his difficulties, the six-page magazine was off to a good start with 5,000 copies.

Toward the end of October 1922 Kolbe and the friars who were involved in producing the Knight were transferred to the friary of Grodno. In no time, the facilities of the convent were completely occupied by the expanding apostolate. The magazine increased the number of its pages to eight and acquired manually operated printing presses. Kolbe wrote many of the articles, initialed shorter news items and corrected the galley proofs. And he would remind his readers that the Knight flourished only because of God's providence.

 

Great Theme

The great theme enunciated in the first issue continued to be the predominate concern in all of Father Maximilian's writings: Where is one to find true happiness? If the heart of man is not satisfied with riches, sensual pleasure, or the smoke of illusive glory, then it must seek the supreme good which is limitless and unending—God Himself. Faithful to the teachings of St. Augustine ("Our heart is restless until it rests in Thee.") and the experience of St. Francis ("Love is not loved enough."), Kolbe would repeat in his editorials that to be happy one must strive to be holy, and the substance of holiness is to love God heroically.

By November 1924, his apostolate of the printed word reached another stage in its growth: Kolbe published 120,000 copies of a calendar-almanac for the year 1925.

At the first Catholic Congress, held in Warsaw (August 1926), he addressed the delegates on the calling and responsibility of a Catholic journalist. Among the suggestions he made was the publication of a Catholic daily. But no one was bold enough to undertake the venture.

By 1927, even the convent of Grodno proved inadequate for Kolbe's ever expanding work. Thus, in June, he met Prince John Drucki Lubecki, who was willing to cede some land for a new friary. Once the transaction was completed, a new convent was to be built some forty-two kilometers (twenty-six miles) from Warsaw. It would house the printing presses and editorial offices of the Knight of the Immaculate. The first complex of barracks, which rose on the land within six months, was named City of the Immaculate.

It was dedicated on the vigil of the Immaculate, December 7, 1927. Led by Father Maximilian, the first group of friars—two priests and eighteen brothers—was insignificant compared to the number who were to live there in a little more than a decade.

Their work progressed so well that by 1929 the Knight had 150,000 subscribers, and Kolbe was emboldened to pray to Mary: "May it be printed in such numbers and in so many languages that it reach and be read by every inhabitant of the earth." The printed word had become his principal apostolate.

Father Maximilian began to think of carrying the cause of the Immaculate beyond the boundaries cf Poland. With this in mind, toward the end of February 1930, he was able to leave for the Far East with four pioneers. One of his most faithful coworkers, Brother Zeno Zebrowski, died this year after fifty-two years of work in Japan. They travelled from Warsaw to Rome and Marseilles. Then they set sail for Port Said, Colombo, Singapore, Saigon, Hong Kong, Shanghai. In the last city, Maximilian spent twelve days, leaving behind two of his companions—Brothers Severin Dagis and Sigismund Krol—in the hope that they would be able to establish a Chinese edition of the Knight. On April 24, 1930, Kolbe himself finally disembarked at Nagasaki in Japan.

 

Japan

Not quite settled in his new and strange environment, Maximilian began to look for a printing press and translators. Within a month of his arrival he was able to shock the confreres at City of Immaculate with a telegram which bore the news that on May 25 he and his coworkers were mailing to Japanese readers 10,000 copies of the Mugenzai no Seibo no Kiski (Knight of the Immaculate).

Within six months, they increased the number of copies to 18,000 and connected an electric motor to the printing press which was originally operated by hand. By December 1933, the circulation of the Japanese Knight reached 60,000.

In six years of tireless work, Kolbe established in Nagasaki a City of the Immaculate, known as the Garden, and a seminary for native vocations. Today, the Japanese province continues his work with some of the most technically advanced presses. Those friars who are not involved in publishing the Knight staff parishes, orphanages and houses for the elderly and poor.

 

Back in Poland

The work in Poland continued. The number of religious increased until they formed a community of 600 friars and almost 120 seminarians. By 1930, the Knight had 343,000 and over a million by 1938. In 1935, the daily newspaper that Kolbe had proposed almost ten years earlier became a reality. The Maiy Dziennik reached 180,000 readers on weekdays and 250,000 on Sundays.

At the 1936 provincial chapter of the friars, it was decided that only Kolbe had the unique organizational skills to direct what had gradually become the largest religious community in the world. He spent his last years guiding the work of the City of the Immaculate with intelligence and love.

 

Kolbe's Work Today

The Knight of the Immaculate founded by Father Kolbe is published today in sixteen independent editions in fourteen countries: Japan, Italy (two editions), the United States of America, West Germany, Malta, England, Portugal, Belgium, Rome (Polish edition), Holland, Mexico, France, Brazil, Argentina, South Korea and Australia.

All these editions—except for the Polish (1922), Japanese (1930) and Italian (1932)—were founded after World War II. Their circulation varies from 100,000 (Portuguese) to 1,000 (South Korea).

Kolbe's two Cities of the Immaculate continue to do his work.