In the New York Times for December 25, 1941, a front page story carried the head-line: "Pope Condemns Persecutions." The newspaper claimed in an editorial that day "The voice of Pius XII is a lonely voice in the silence and darkness of Europe... He is about the only ruler left on the continent of Europe who dares raise his voice at all... The Pope squarely sets himself against Hitlerism." "This Christmas more than ever the Pope is a lonely Voice." So far the NY Times of 1941.

When Pius XII died, Mrs. Golda Meier, Israel's Minister of Foreign Affairs, said at the United Nations, "We share the grief of the world over the death of his holiness Pius XII. During a generation of wars and dissensions, he affirmed the high ideals of peace and compassion. During the ten years of Nazi terror, when our people went through the horrors of martyrdom, the Pope raised his voice to condemn the persecutors and to commiserate with their victims. The life of our time has been enriched by a voice which expressed the great moral truths about the tumult of daily conflicts.. We grieve over the loss of a great defender of peace." (Civ. Cathol. 1958, III, 323).

One presumes Golda Meier knew what she was talking about. Many commentators today on Pius XII do not.

And not many of us seem to know that the savage hand of Hitler reached also into Cistercian abbeys. And left death in concentration camps a memorial of his visit.

It is hard to grasp the intensity of a persecution that would reach into abbeys of nuns and monks. It was well for the Dutch Bishops to protest vehemently the treatment their German invaders were giving the Dutch of Jewish extraction. Yet, the immediate response to that protest was to go further and retaliate, take even converts to the Faith who were Jewish, some 300. Hitler was a madman. And Pius XII knew that.

In the cemetery of the Cistercian Abbey of Tilburg, Holland, is a simple monument to Ignatius, Linus and Nivard Lob, who in the year 1942 "perished for the name of Christ in the concentration camp of Auswitz." The remarkable thing about the Lob brothers was that they had three sisters who were also Cistercians. And 2 of the 3 sisters also perished in the Nazi persecution of the Jews as did also a younger brother names Hans who had remained in the world.

Ludwig Hans, father of the family, was a German born Jew. He was for a time interested in Marxism but was later attracted to Catholicism through reading the works of Mercier. Just before his marriage in 1906 he and his Jewish fiancée were baptized into the Catholic Church. They migrated to Holland.

The Lobs, though not wealthy, were a very hospitable family and Mrs Lob especially was very popular in their town and district. In due course eight children were born to the family between 1908 and 1918. George, the eldest, a joyous and exuberant youth, entered the Cistercian Abbey of Tilburg taking the name of Ignatius. He was later followed by Robert who became Linus and by the more serious Ernst who took the name of Nivard.

Meanwhile the girls also followed the call to religion. Lina, the eldest, full of motherly solicitude and good humor, became Sister Hedwige. Door and Weis, neither of them very strong physically, took the names of Therese and Veronica. All were in the Cistercian convent of Berkel. Only one son and daughter, Hans and Paula, now remained with their parents. In due course both father and mother died saintly deaths.

Then came World War II and the Nazi invasion of Holland. The Dutch bishops protested against the atrocities committed against the Jews. By way of public reprisal the Nazis decided to round up all Jews of Catholic faith.

Early on Sunday morning of August 2, 1942, as the nuns of Berkel were singing the Night Office, the SS men arrived at the convent and asked for the three sisters. They left choir, received Holy Communion from the Chaplain and went to the waiting police car. Sister Veronica, who was seriously ill with tuberculosis, was allowed to return to the convent. The police then drove to Tilburg Abbey some miles away and asked for the brothers. Fathers Ignatius and Nivard were able to say Mass and then with Brother Nivard, who was a Laybrother, joined their sisters, whom they had not seen for a number of years, in the police car.

In all about 300 Catholic Jews were arrested, including the famous Carmelite, Edith Stein. They were taken to the infamous Auswitz camp in Poland. A captured Nazi document notes the deaths of the Lob brothers and sisters in August and September of 1942.

Sister Veronica, who was ill with tuberculosis, was later arrested but again released. She died in Berkel convent in 1944. Hans, the youngest, was sent to Germany for forced labor, had his feet frozen later when travelling in an open truck, and in 1945 died in Buchenwald. The youngest girl, Paula, escaped arrest as she found shelter with a charitable family in Nymegen. She was the only surviving member of the family.

When the war was over and the horrors of Hitler's regime were exposed, there was, of course, much anguish. Some may have turned to the Pope and said in effect: "You should have spoken louder!" He in turn might well have been bitter: "And where were you? You knew. You said nothing. I am fortunate if Catholics listen to me and obey me. Many do not. Christians may give me a hearing. They may not. But to expect a madman to obey is a bit much. And he can retaliate by doing worse. But I spoke, and he heard me. And did as he liked."

In today's Gospel passage there is a very remarkable word from Jesus. Standing with them in the upper room, He asks: "Have you anything to eat?" They must have been embarrassed, humiliated, that they had not offered him hospitality. On the shore of the lake in the early morning fog, He called out to them over the water: "Have you any fish?"

The food that Jesus asks of us is our faith in Him. The whole mystical body of Christ is nourished by obedient faith in Him. The Church grows and progresses in vigorous health when we offer Him the bread of faith, the fish of our committed life.

To withhold such food, such fish, is to impoverish the Church and humankind, expose us to sickness and evil of every sort, let loose among us demons and evil powers that will wreak havoc among us.

"Have you anything to eat?" We do indeed. "Have you any fish?" We have. And He says, "Bring Me some."  Amen.