Homily: Tuesday, 31st Week in Ordinary Time - Year A

Readings: Rom 12:5-16; Ps 131; Lk 14:15-24

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Back in 1951, I was seven years old. My dad was an Army officer stationed in Germany and that Christmas we were vacationing in Bavaria. We spent a few days in Munich, and one morning while my mom and brother were back in the hotel restaurant having breakfast, my dad and I went for a walk headed for a nearby newsstand where he knew he could buy an English language newspaper.

And as we walked, for the first time in my brief life, I saw a man on the sidewalk begging. He had no legs and sat on a makeshift wooden pallet with roller skate wheels. He propelled himself with two pieces of wood, one in each hand, that he pulled along the ground. The war had ended only a few years before, and he had a couple of military medals pinned to his old coat. In his lap was a tin can with a few small coins in it.

I remember all this because I had stopped to look at him. Children aren’t easily embarrassed, and neither was he. He smiled at me, so I decided to try out my German and said very formally, “Guten Morgen, mein Herr” – Good morning, sir. With that, his smile grew and he replied, “Guten Morgen, Junge” – Good morning, boy.

At that point Dad spoke to him and they exchanged a few words in German, which I didn’t understand. They both laughed, and then Dad put four five-mark coins in the tin can. 20 marks was quite a lot back then. The man then called me closer, reached out and with his fingertips, made the sign of the cross on my forehead. As we walked on to the newsstand, Dad simply said, “Two things, son. First, Jesus is always present in others, and second, that could be you.” 72 years ago, but I’ve not forgotten that encounter with a war-torn beggar on a Munich street.

Of course, back then I hadn’t read Paul’s letter to the Romans; but my Dad had. Much of the letter contains great theological insights about God and our relationship to him in Jesus Christ. But then, here in chapter 12, as his letter draws to a close, Paul offers us some very practical advice on actually living the Christian life. He begins with:

“We, though many, are one Body in Christ and individually parts of one another.” [Rom 12:5]

Because Christ is present in each of us, we’re united, bound to each other, “parts of one another.” Have you ever thought about that? In other words, that legless beggar, my father, and I are together in one Christian family. To ignore that man on the street would be like ignoring my brother. And because we’re essentially fused together in the Body of Christ, we can serve Jesus Christ only when we love and serve each other.

That’s the wonderful thing about Christianity: we’re not isolated individuals. We’re a community, each of us offering his particular gifts to help the others. And because evangelization is the Body of Christ’s primary responsibility, we must reach out into the world, and bring others into communion with us.

I’ve always thought Paul’s awareness of this communion in the Body of Christ, originated when he heard those words of Jesus on the road to Damascus:

“Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?” [Acts 9:4]

Hearing those swords, pondering them, Paul came to understand that by persecuting Jesus’ disciples, he had been persecuting Jesus himself, because they are one. And I really believe that question of Jesus was the catalyst for Paul’s teaching on the Body of Christ.

Paul then lists many of the gifts, the charisms that let Christians build up the Body of Christ. Among them is almsgiving. In Paul’s time, many Christians were poor, unable to give alms. Every community had its sick, poor, elderly, orphans, and widows. But some Christians had a surplus to share, and Paul told them to give generously.

The same is true today, brothers and sisters. But living here in The Villages, in our rather antiseptic enclosed community, we don’t see it, despite the reality that surrounds us. Diane and I served at the Wildwood Soup Kitchen for many years.; and when I was on the board, I’d often go out with one of our drivers, delivering meals to shut-ins. We’d drive down streets where the poverty was so palpable it simply enveloped you; and then enter dwellings where no human being should live.

On Thanksgiving, our secular feast, will we just thank God for all He’s done for us, for all those gifts? Or will we also thank Him for leading us through our own highways and hedgerows, to seek out those with whom we can share those gifts he has let us use?

After all, we’ve come together this morning to receive the Body of Christ, so let’s leave here in Communion as the Body of Christ – to love and serve the Lord by loving and serving one another.

Dad und die Kinder

My father, John McCarthy, who was an Army captain at the time, entered Berlin with the occupation forces in 1945. He had two sons of his own back in the USA -- my brother, Jeff, born in 1941, and me, born in 1944. He enjoyed being with children and the kinder of Germany were no exception. The other day going through some old photos -- and there are literally thousands I have not yet looked at -- I came across this snapshot, probably taken by his old friend, the late Lee Hanel. He and Dad, both Army officers who served together, were avid photographers. 

I would guess that Dad was sharing some candy or sweets with the children. In the background you can see a number of German women looking on. Sadly, some of them probably lost their husbands in the war -- men who were drafted into the Wehrmacht, forced to fight Hitler's losing war. Many never returned. One can only imagine what these young mothers were thinking as they watched this American treating their children with kindness. I recall Dad once mentioning the "war children" of Germany, and telling me, "The children had nothing to do with the war, with Hitler, with the carnage, and the brutality. That was done by adults. I always tried to be friendly and kind to them." Sometimes a simple black and white photo is worth far more than a thousand words.

Pray for peace.

German Bishops: Paganism and Schism

Did you hear the latest out of Germany? A Synod of German bishops and lay leaders of the Catholic Church, perhaps predictably, voted overwhelmingly (168 to 28) to approve the blessing by Catholic clergy of what the synod calls “same-sex partnerships.” This vote was in response to a Vatican decree that explicitly prohibited such blessings. Of the 196 who voted at the synod, I don’t know how many were bishops. I believe there are 27 German dioceses, but there are certainly a greater number of bishops. But even so, this vote is a definite step toward schism. I find it especially troubling that the synod apparently believes, unlike Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI, that truth is determined by majority vote. I certainly cannot confirm my suspicions, but I wonder how many of the voters are active homosexuals. 

To read a more detailed discussion of the synod’s vote, see the coverage by CATHOLICVOTE.ORG. There you will also learn that the synod went even further on related issues:

Friday’s statement included not only the approval of blessings for homosexual couples, but also advocacy for “more tolerance for contraception and masturbation,” Rocca reported. The statement amounts to “an appeal to the pope, acknowledging that many of its proposals ‘essentially fall within the teaching competence of the Bishop of Rome and can therefore not be undertaken by the Church in Germany.’”

The vote, of course, is openly heretical, since it contradicts 2,000 years of Church teaching. In a very real sense it returns us to the pagan world faced by the apostles as they fulfilled Jesus’ command to preach the Gospel throughout the Roman Empire and beyond. In those days homosexuality and the sexual abuse of women and slaves was for many a way of life, especially among the upper classes. But St. Paul didn’t hesitate to challenge the zeitgeist by preaching the Gospel teaching that marriage between a man and a woman is a sacramental and sacred bond and that sexual activity outside of marriage is sinful. The difference today is that members of the Church in Germany are siding and sinning with the pagans while denying the truth of the Gospel. 

Where this will lead, I cannot say. But one hopes the Holy Father will be firm in repudiating the conclusions of the German synod. We shall see. I find myself thinking again of the words that a German theologian, Joseph Ratzinger, wrote in 1970, long before he became Pope Benedict XVI:

"From the crisis of today, the Church of tomorrow will emerge. She will become small and will have to start afresh more or less from the beginning. She will no longer be able to inhabit many of the edifices she built in prosperity. As the number of her adherents diminishes, so will she lose many of her social privileges…she will be seen more as a voluntary society, entered only by free decision…Undoubtedly she will discover new forms of ministry and will ordain to the priesthood approved Christians who pursue some profession…Alongside this, the full-time ministerial priesthood will be indispensable as formerly. But…the Church will find her essence afresh and with full conviction in that which was always at her center: faith in the triune God, in Jesus Chris, the Son of God made man, in the presence of the Spirit until the end of the world…

"The Church will be a more spiritual Church, not presuming upon a political mandate, flirting as little with the Left as with the Right. It will be hard going for the Church, for the process of crystallization and clarification will cost her much valuable energy. It will make her poor and cause her to be the Church of the meek. The process will be all the more arduous, for sectarian narrow-mindedness and well as pompous self-will will have to be shed…But when the trial of this sifting is past, a great power will flow from a more spiritualized and simplified Church. Men in a totally planned world will find themselves unspeakably lonely. If they have completely lost sight of God, they will feel the whole horror of their poverty. Then they will discover the little flock of believers as something wholly new. They will discover it as a hope that is meant for them, an answer for which they have always been searching in secret."

Pope  Benedict’s view of the future Church is probably close to what we can expect in the years to come. Prepare your children and your grandchildren because they will have to live through it.

After America, There Is No Place To Go

The following is a talk delivered in 2012 by Kitty Werthmann, who as a child experienced the transformation of her native Austria by Adolph Hitler and his National Socialists, aka, Nazis. 

Her story has been around awhile, but I suspect it's new to many Americans, especially younger Americans. Kitty has been repeatedly attacked by the American left, accusing her of being allied with -- Oh, my gosh -- the late, great conservative, Phyllis Schlafly, one of my heroines. They have tried to undermine her story because the Austria Kitty describes sounds very much like the country the United States would become if the far left ever gained political power. Keep in mind, there's really little difference between fascism and communism when you are on the receiving end of their policies of power and control. 

I have known a couple of Austrians who as children also experienced the transformation of their country by Hitler and his National Socialists. Although they're both gone now, each would have echoed Kitty's powerful witness. And if you take the time to read the actual history of the Nazi Anschluss or annexation of Austria, you will find that Kitty's story mirrors the truth. 

If you remember the plot of the Sound of Music, the Von Trapp family escaped over the Alps rather than submit to the Nazis. Kitty wasn’t so lucky. Her family chose to stay in her native Austria. She was 10 years old, but bright and aware. And she was watching.

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“I cannot tell you that Hitler took Austria by tanks and guns; it would distort history.

“We elected him by a landslide – 98 percent of the vote,” she recalls.

She wasn’t old enough to vote in 1938 – approaching her 11th birthday. But she remembers.

“Everyone thinks that Hitler just rolled in with his tanks and took Austria by force.”

No so. Hitler was welcomed by Austria

“In 1938, Austria was in deep depression. Nearly one-third of our workforce was unemployed. We had 25 percent inflation and 25 percent bank loan interest rates.

"Farmers and business people were declaring bankruptcy daily. Young people were going from house to house begging for food. Not that they didn’t want to work; there simply weren’t any jobs.

“My mother was a Christian woman and believed in helping people in need. Every day we cooked a big kettle of soup and baked bread to feed those poor, hungry people – about 30 daily.’

“We looked to our neighbor on the north, Germany, where Hitler had been in power since 1933.” she recalls. “We had been told that they didn’t have unemployment or crime, and they had a high standard of living.

“Nothing was ever said about persecution of any group – Jewish or otherwise. We were led to believe that everyone in Germany was happy. We wanted the same way of life in Austria. We were promised that a vote for Hitler would mean the end of unemployment and help for the family. Hitler also said that businesses would be assisted, and farmers would get their farms back.

“Ninety-eight percent of the population voted to annex Austria to Germany and have Hitler for our ruler.

“We were overjoyed,” remembers Kitty, “and for three days we danced in the streets and had candlelight parades. The new government opened up big field kitchens and everyone was fed.

“After the election, German officials were appointed, and, like a miracle, we suddenly had law and order. Three or four weeks later, everyone was employed. The government made sure that a lot of work was created through the Public Work Service.

“Hitler decided we should have equal rights for women. Before this, it was a custom that married Austrian women did not work outside the home. An able-bodied husband would be looked down on if he couldn’t support his family. Many women in the teaching profession were elated that they could retain the jobs they previously had been required to give up for marriage.

“Then we lost religious education for kids.

“Our education was nationalized. I attended a very good public school.. The population was predominantly Catholic, so we had religion in our schools. The day we elected Hitler (March 13, 1938), I walked into my schoolroom to find the crucifix replaced by Hitler’s picture hanging next to a Nazi flag. Our teacher, a very devout woman, stood up and told the class we wouldn’t pray or have religion anymore. Instead, we sang ‘Deutschland, Deutschland, Uber Alles,’ and had physical education.

“Sunday became National Youth Day with compulsory attendance. Parents were not pleased about the sudden change in curriculum. They were told that if they did not send us, they would receive a stiff letter of warning the first time. The second time they would be fined the equivalent of $300, and the third time they would be subject to jail.”

And then things got worse.

"Every Sunday the first two hours consisted of political indoctrination. The rest of the day we had sports. As time went along, we loved it. Oh, we had so much fun and got our sports equipment free.

“We would go home and gleefully tell our parents about the wonderful time we had.

“My mother was very unhappy,” remembers Kitty. “When the next term started, she took me out of public school and put me in a convent. I told her she couldn’t do that and she told me that someday when I grew up, I would be grateful. There was a very good curriculum, but hardly any fun – no sports, and no political indoctrination.

“I hated it at first but felt I could tolerate it. Every once in a while, on holidays, I went home. I would go back to my old friends and ask what was going on and what they were doing.

“Their loose lifestyle was very alarming to me. They lived without religion. By that time, unwed mothers were glorified for having a baby for Hitler.

“It seemed strange to me that our society changed so suddenly. As time went along, I realized what a great deed my mother did so that I wasn’t exposed to that kind of humanistic philosophy.

“In 1939, the war started, and a food bank was established. All food was rationed and could only be purchased using food stamps. At the same time, a full-employment law was passed which meant if you didn’t work, you didn’t get a ration card, and, if you didn’t have a card, you starved to death.

“Women who stayed home to raise their families didn’t have any marketable skills and often had to take jobs more suited for men.

“Soon after this, the draft was implemented.

“It was compulsory for young people, male and female, to give one year to the labor corps,” remembers Kitty. “During the day, the girls worked on the farms, and at night they returned to their barracks for military training just like the boys.

“They were trained to be anti-aircraft gunners and participated in the signal corps. After the labor corps, they were not discharged but were used in the front lines.

“When I go back to Austria to visit my family and friends, most of these women are emotional cripples because they just were not equipped to handle the horrors of combat.

“Three months before I turned 18, I was severely injured in an air raid attack. I nearly had a leg amputated, so I was spared having to go into the labor corps and into military service.

“When the mothers had to go out into the work force, the government immediately established child care centers.

“You could take your children ages four weeks old to school age and leave them there around-the-clock, seven days a week, under the total care of the government.

“The state raised a whole generation of children. There were no motherly women to take care of the children, just people highly trained in child psychology. By this time, no one talked about equal rights. We knew we had been had.

“Before Hitler, we had very good medical care. Many American doctors trained at the University of Vienna..

“After Hitler, health care was socialized, free for everyone. Doctors were salaried by the government. The problem was, since it was free, the people were going to the doctors for everything.

“When the good doctor arrived at his office at 8 a.m., 40 people were already waiting and, at the same time, the hospitals were full.

“If you needed elective surgery, you had to wait a year or two for your turn. There was no money for research as it was poured into socialized medicine. Research at the medical schools literally stopped, so the best doctors left Austria and emigrated to other countries.

“As for healthcare, our tax rates went up to 80 percent of our income. Newlyweds immediately received a $1,000 loan from the government to establish a household. We had big programs for families.

“All day care and education were free. High schools were taken over by the government and college tuition was subsidized. Everyone was entitled to free handouts, such as food stamps, clothing, and housing.

“We had another agency designed to monitor business. My brother-in-law owned a restaurant that had square tables.

“Government officials told him he had to replace them with round tables because people might bump themselves on the corners. Then they said he had to have additional bathroom facilities. It was just a small dairy business with a snack bar. He couldn’t meet all the demands.

“Soon, he went out of business. If the government owned the large businesses and not many small ones existed, it could be in control.

“We had consumer protection, too

“We were told how to shop and what to buy. Free enterprise was essentially abolished. We had a planning agency specially designed for farmers. The agents would go to the farms, count the livestock, and then tell the farmers what to produce, and how to produce it.

“In 1944, I was a student teacher in a small village in the Alps. The villagers were surrounded by mountain passes which, in the winter, were closed off with snow, causing people to be isolated.

“So people intermarried and offspring were sometimes retarded. When I arrived, I was told there were 15 mentally retarded adults, but they were all useful and did good manual work.

“I knew one, named Vincent, very well. He was a janitor of the school. One day I looked out the window and saw Vincent and others getting into a van.

“I asked my superior where they were going. She said to an institution where the State Health Department would teach them a trade, and to read and write. The families were required to sign papers with a little clause that they could not visit for 6 months.

“They were told visits would interfere with the program and might cause homesickness.

“As time passed, letters started to dribble back saying these people died a natural, merciful death. The villagers were not fooled. We suspected what was happening. Those people left in excellent physical health and all died within 6 months. We called this euthanasia.

“Next came gun registration. People were getting injured by guns. Hitler said that the real way to catch criminals (we still had a few) was by matching serial numbers on guns. Most citizens were law-abiding and dutifully marched to the police station to register their firearms. Not long afterwards, the police said that it was best for everyone to turn in their guns. The authorities already knew who had them, so it was futile not to comply voluntarily.

“No more freedom of speech. Anyone who said something against the government was taken away. We knew many people who were arrested, not only Jews, but also priests and ministers who spoke up.

“Totalitarianism didn’t come quickly, it took 5 years from 1938 until 1943, to realize full dictatorship in Austria. Had it happened overnight, my countrymen would have fought to the last breath. Instead, we had creeping gradualism. Now, our only weapons were broom handles. The whole idea sounds almost unbelievable that the state, little by little eroded our freedom.”

“This is my eyewitness account.

“It’s true. Those of us who sailed past the Statue of Liberty came to a country of unbelievable freedom and opportunity.

“America is truly is the greatest country in the world. “Don’t let freedom slip away.

“After America, there is no place to go.”

Kitty Werthmann

The Church Under Attack

Sometimes the contrast is difficult to bear. Here I am, a deacon assigned to a large, growing parish in a beautiful, Florida retirement community where my biggest concerns are centered on effecting a reasonable balance between my "retirement time" and the time I devote to the various ministries in which I'm active. And if I'm not careful and lose my sense of spiritual direction, I can develop an almost self-righteous attitude toward it all -- "Yes, I do so much for the parish and for those in need." -- when, in reality, I do nothing, nothing at all. The Church does opus Dei, the work of God, and indeed it can do absolutely nothing, at any rate, nothing good, without the presence and guidance of the Holy Spirit. And although I realize God has commissioned us to preach His Word to all people, even to fairly affluent retirees in sunny Florida, I cannot ignore the contrast between my ministry and that of others throughout our bent world.

This was brought home to me the other day when I opened a fund-raising letter from Aid to the Church in Need. Every week I probably receive three or four such letters from various charities and ministries asking for financial support. I've come to accept that my name and address are on every Church-related mailing list, guaranteeing that my mailbox will never be empty. Although I cannot help them all and still pay the bills, I respond to some of these pleas with a small donation. But the contents of this particular plea caught my attention. For those of you who aren't familiar with Aid to the Church in Need (ACN), it's a Catholic charity guided and blessed by Pope Francis and his predecessors. Indeed, Pope Benedict XVI strongly supported ACN, calling it "a gift of Providence for our time." ACN's mission is simple: "to help suffering and persecuted faithful worldwide" by strengthening the Church and keeping the Faith alive wherever it is threatened. As you might imagine, in recent years the challenge of accomplishing this mission has increased dramatically.

Iraqi Christian Refugees

Coptic Church Set Afire in Egypt

I've written about the global persecution of Christians on many occasions, but I don't believe I've ever discussed ACN and its work. Formed in 1947, ACN was "born out of the ashes of World War II" to assist those who found themselves homeless and dispossessed. My family spent a year in Germany only a few years after the war and I recall seeing refugee camps in which "displaced persons" or "DPs", as they were then called, were forced to live. Many of these were Jewish survivors of the holocaust, others who had been interred by the Nazis in labor, POW or concentration camps, and refugees who had fled to the West in advance of the Soviet Army. Despite my young age -- at the time I was only a seven-year-old -- the sight of one of these sprawling camps remains a most vivid memory. See photos below...

DP Camp in Germany - late 40s, early 50s

Residents of a DP Camp near Hamburg pose for a photo

One of the more shameful episodes of our history involved the forced repatriation of too many of these refugees who were subsequently imprisoned or even executed by the Communist regimes in the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe. At this same time, the 1950s, ACN was working behind the scenes in Eastern Europe, particularly in Hungary and Poland, assisting the persecuted Church. ACN later expanded its reach to assist the Church in Latin America, Africa and Asia. From its beginning ACN was committed to accomplishing its mission in a spirit of reconciliation as it helped the Church wherever the need was greatest.


After reading ACN's fundraising letter I visited the charity's website where one encounters current reports of remarkable faith in the face of the most horrendous persecution. As you might expect most of these reports originate in the Middle East and Africa where Islamist jihadists are attempting to destroy the Church through violence, intimidation and other forms of persecution. The secular media has seemingly made a conscious effort to avoid reporting on the worldwide persecution of Christians, so it's only through the work of ACN and similar organizations that we learn of this growing threat to eliminate Christianity from regions where it has been a real presence since the time of the Apostles. Visit ACN's website to see for yourself what is happening to the Church in some of these nations.

Living as we do in relative peace and security, it's hard not to ask oneself, "Would I be as courageous as these Christians who, though confronted by violent persecution and the threat of martyrdom, have kept the faith?" After all, how many of us actually defend our faith and the Church when confronted by someone who attacks either with mere words? Why risk a quarrel and the possibility of hurt feelings when we're just talking about a matter of opinion? Yes, when it's under attack the Truth becomes just a matter of opinion and we remain silent.

The reality, of course, is that as Christians we must defend the Truth. And we should do so openly, prayerfully, and with love. As Blessed John Henry Newman said, "It is as absurd to argue men, as to torture them, into believing."

Pope Benedict with the Patriarch

I hope all who read this will consider supporting Aid to the Church in Need. You can do so via the secure donation page of their website: Donate. And if you can't afford a financial donation, please donate your time each day by praying for the Church persecuted. 

The Patriarch of the Catholic Chaldean Church in Iraq, Louis Raphael I Sako, has written a prayer which he asks all Christians to pray daily -- imagine the effect it would have:

O Lord, the plight of Iraq and Syria is deep and the suffering of the Christians is heavy and frightening. We ask you, Lord, to give us peace and stability to live with each other without fear, anxiety, with dignity and joy. Glory to You, forever. Amen.

Pope Francis with the Chaldean Patriarch

Such a simple prayer, but truly a Christian prayer. The attitude of the Patriarch is mirrored by Bishop Ambroise Ouédraogo in the African nation of Niger. After Muslims rioted and destroyed Christian churches, the Muslim community was amazed that Niger’s Catholic bishops immediately proclaimed forgiveness of the perpetrators. In the bishop's words, "They set fire to our churches, but our hearts are still ablaze with love for them. Christian or Muslim—God wishes good fortune for all people.” How many of us could be so forgiving?

The Declining Church in Europe

Despite the remarkable growth of the Catholic Church in Asia and Africa, the Catholic Church in Europe may soon resemble the mere skeleton of a Church, one populated only by a clergy astonished that the pews before them are empty. Their astonishment is quite extraordinary since they are fully responsible for the decline, a decline they try with little success to blame on others, specifically the Vatican.

Two recent articles, one by Fr. Gerald Murray, of the Archdiocese of New York, and another by Fr. Mark Pilon of the Diocese of Arlington, provide a needed glimpse into the moral chaos symptomatic of the sad state of the Catholic Church in Germany and indeed in much of Europe today. As Fr. Pilon warns, when the clergy abandon the Church's moral teaching, Church unity suffers, and the faithful dwindle. Already many of the great churches of Europe have ceased being places of worship and become mere tourist attractions. On our recent trip to England Diane and I entered dozens of Anglican churches, all of them empty, except for us and an occasional docent who happily described the building's glorious past, while sadly telling of the dire need for funds to keep the doors open. The Anglican Church paved the way to perceived superfluity by adopting an anti-dogma of moral ambiguity. When a Church adopts a moral position of "anything goes" everything and everybody goes as well...out the door.

Take a few moments to read both of these brief articles. You can find them here:

Bad news from Deutschland, by Fr. Gerald E. Murray

Germany's "Pay to Pray" Regime, by Fr. Mark A. Pilon

Dachau Memories & Beatification

There are moments and events in life so intense that one can never forget them. For me one of these events was a visit to Dachau, the Nazi concentration camp near Munich, in December of 1951. I've written about this experience on several other occasions -- on September 27, 2010 and on August 19, 2008 -- but I thought it deserved another visit after reading about the beatification of Fr. Georg Haefner. More on Fr. Haefner later.

My father, an Army officer, was stationed in Heidelberg, Germany and had taken the family on a two-week Christmas vacation to Bavaria that included stays in Munich, Berchtesgaden, Garmisch-Partenkirchen, and even a brief visit to Salzburg, Austria. 

American GIs in the remains of Hitler's Eagles Nest

Although I was only seven years old at the time, I can recall vividly many of the places we visited. I remember walking through the shell that remained of Hitler's "Eagles Nest", his alpine retreat overlooking Berchtesgaden, and being struck by the breathtaking view. I also recall my dad commenting that he could not understand how someone could live in such beautiful surroundings and be so filled with hate.

I remember staying three or four days in a charming gasthaus (a country inn) in a small Bavarian village where my brother Jeff and I got to share a room in which the twin beds were equipped with soft, feather mattresses that did all but swallow us. The gasthaus was owned by a couple who so epitomized Bavaria that they were veritable caricatures: he with his sweeping mustache, lederhosen and knee socks and she with her low-cut blouse that revealed much of her ample figure. She apparently took a liking to me because she surprised me several times a day by picking me up and hugging me in a way that more than embarrassed this seven-year-old boy. I tolerated such behavior because she was always giving me sweets behind my mother's back.

We also spent four or five days at a small ski-lodge owned by a family that treated my brother and me like celebrities. Our ski instructor, Horst, a wounded veteran of the war who spent a year in England as a POW, had only one arm but could ski as well as an olympian. He spent every morning with Jeff and me teaching us to negotiate the equivalent of a novice slope. He also accompanied us and our dad on daily hikes along mountain paths and through the surrounding forest. I especially remember the joy I experienced when my parents bought me a pair of leather boots that looked just like the boots Horst wore when we went hiking. I felt very grown-up that day when I put on my new Bergschuhe (or mountain boots).

As our Bavarian vacation neared its end, we spent a few days in Munich, including a visit to the city's famous Hofbräuhaus, where Dad and I joined a thousand Germans singing the beer hall's signature song: In München steht ein Hofbräuhaus... As I recall my more introverted mother and brother were a bit embarrassed by our enthusiasm. Mom was also upset when Dad rewarded my performance with a sip of beer from his large one-liter mug. I've had a distinct preference for German beer ever since. Here's a video on the Hofbräuhaus made by European travel expert, Rick Steves:

Dachau Gas Chamber

But my most distinct memory, and one not nearly so pleasant, is of our last day in Munich. Dad drove to the suburb of Dachau to visit the concentration camp where so many innocents perished. The war had ended only six years before and the camp was largely unchanged. As I recall, at the time, in the early 50s, much of the camp was being used to house some Nazi prisoners as well as refugees, but Dad was able to obtain permission to view certain sections of the camp. I remember the gas chamber as well as the ovens used to dispose of the bodies of those who were murdered or who died of starvation and disease. That experience engendered in me a lifelong prejudice against cremation. We walked through one of the barracks used to house the political prisoners and could imagine the horrible conditions under which they were forced to live. 

These and other Dachau memories are among the most vivid of my childhood. And I relived many of them the other day when I read of the beatification of Father Georg Haefner, a German priest  who died of starvation and disease at Dachau in 1942. Dachau contained a "priest-block" where priests and other ministers were segregated from the rest of the camp's population so they wouldn't pollute them with their religious views. 

Speaking of Fr. Haefner, Pope Benedict said, "In the confusion of National Socialism, Georg Haefner was willing, as a faithful shepherd, to protect his flock and deliver the sacrament and the water of life to many people, until the end of his life. He forgave his tormentors from his heart, for as he wrote to his parents from prison: 'Let us seek to be good with everyone.' Let us entrust ourselves to his intercession, so that we too may hear the voice of Christ, the good shepherd, and so be led to life and joy in abundance."  Blessed Georg's feast day will be celebrated on August 20, the day of his death.

To get a sense of what it was like to be a Catholic priest imprisoned at Dachau, read Fr. Jean Bernard's memoir of his time as a Dachau inmate: Priestblock 25487: A Memoir of Dachau. It is a marvelous and moving book. 

I've included a slide show of the day Dachau was liberated by US troops.