"Polish Fest" 

June 22, 2010

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

I can honestly say that I have never attended any of the festivals celebrated in Milwaukee-- the city of the “fests” - that is, until last Sunday. I was invited by the Polish community to offer Mass for those attending Polish Fest.

I thought this would be an easy entre into the season of festivals given that most people there would be Polish like me! The only problem was that I was expected to use Polish for some of the liturgy. I speak very little Polish and in addition, it’s a difficult language to pronounce. It’s like gymnastics for your tongue. I was fortunate to have Father Steve Malkiewicz, a Franciscan and an instructor at the seminary, who helped me with the pronunciation. Father Pat Fischer, former military chaplain and friend of John Paul II also helped by translating into polish a statement that I read at the end of my homily. It is because of these good priests that I sounded at least respectable, or as some of my critics would say, “at least you weren’t awful.”

The procession before Mass was beautiful. Individuals were dressed in ethnic costumes and the Knights of Columbus, altar boys, deacons and priests participated. The choir sang traditional Polish hymns and the pavilion was filled with over 1200 people. It was a celebration of the faith embedded in the culture of a people.

During the homily I shared with the Polish community my attempt at discovering my roots. In 1980, I journeyed to Poland. While there, I visited Auschwitz, the Nazi death camp and the Shrine of the “Black Madonna,” the queen of Poland. Both visits were very emotional.

At the concentration camp there was one cell in particular that was covered with flowers. It was the cell of Maximillian Kolbe. This gentile and loving priest took the place of a father of a family who was being sent to the “showers” (the gas chambers) for execution. At that moment he became another Christ for that man, sacrificing his life for another.

The Poles, recognizing this act of sanctity, began to venerate this potential saint’s cell. He was an example for them of living totally and completely for the faith.

Later, I traveled to the Shrine of the Black Madonna. I viewed men and women expressing their piety by approaching, on their knees, the icon of the Blessed Mother. I was deeply moved by this devotional practice which reflects the great fidelity that the Poles have for our Lady and their willingness to humble themselves before their queen.
I realized that here were the roots of my faith.

We take for granted all those who have sacrificed for us so that we can enjoy our freedom and the impact our culture has in forming the vision of our world.

When Mass was over last Sunday and I had removed my vestments, I headed to the Polonez Restaurant where I was treated to a Polish sausage sandwich. It just doesn’t get much better than that on a Sunday afternoon!

Having been initiated into the community of “fests,” I now look forward to all the other ethnic fests Milwaukee has to offer. I know that I will be welcomed as a brother because we Love One Another.

See you at Mass!

Most Reverend Jerome E. Listecki
Archbishop of Milwaukee

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