If you read my column regularly, you know last month I reflected on the life and writing of Father Alfred Delp (1907-1945), a German Jesuit executed by the Nazis during World War II. He was part of the resistance movement, and after an attempted coup failed on July 20, 1944 — a bomb meant to take Hitler’s life left him uninjured — thousands were arrested and tried for treason. Delp was among those arrested in that vengeful frenzy.
From prison, he wrote to his congregation and friends, sneaking his work out on scraps of paper that were smuggled in and out with his laundry. He wrote with his hands bound. It was a directive straight from Hitler, that those suspected of collaborating in the attempt on his life would be held in solitary confinement and shackled “as a sign they were awaiting execution.” (“Alfred Delp, Priest and Martyr, Advent of the Heart: Seasonal Sermons and Prison Writings,” Ignatius Press, 2006, page 17).
Still, even in these conditions, Father Delp remained a pastor and priest to his last breath. Not long before his execution he managed to get a message to friends, encouraging them with this remarkable idea: His life would not be destroyed, but sacrificed.
Four years earlier, while still a free priest serving in Munich, Father Delp offered a sermon on the feast of the Presentation, meditating on the meaning of the sacramental candle. It burns down, yes; while giving its light it is at the same time being consumed. But it is being consumed for the purpose for which it was created; “it is sacrificed, not destroyed.” Indeed, what vocation does not bear this same, exquisite trait?
Father Delp went on to say, “It is the time of sowing, not harvesting. God is sowing; one day He will harvest again … I will try at least to be a fruitful and healthy seed, falling into the soil. And into the Lord God’s hands.” (Delp, page 19)
You may find yourself in a darkened season, surrounded by evil forces, shackled even — by illness or economic defeat, by loneliness or abandonment, or perhaps by sin. But if the Lord has some work for you, some way he needs you to be a light in the darkness, there are no shackles that can stay his hand or render his word ineffective. His plans cannot be thwarted — by evil regimes, sin, fear, not by the most devastating limitations. We need only fall into his mighty, everlasting hands, and allow ourselves to burn.
The words of Isaiah resound: “For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven/ and do not return there until they have watered the earth/making it bring forth and sprout/giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater/ so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth/it shall not return to me empty/ but it shall accomplish that which I purpose/and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.” (Is 55: 10-11, NRSV-CE)
May our New Year be successful in this one thing: that we fall into the Lord God’s hands and that we be faithful witnesses to a God who creates, not for destruction, but for glorious, burning sacrifice.
Oh, Lord, may we burn for you, here in the time and place we have been given. That our lives would be witness to the Light of the World, and to serve you through brilliant lifegiving sacrifice. Amen.
Stanchina is the author of more than a dozen books. Visit her website at Lizk.org or follow her on Instagram at LizKToday.
