“Where I met your Prince of Peace”

Jean Dodd of Jacksonville, Florida was traveling to Berlin, Germany. She was the last one on the plane and ended up seated next to a grumpy older man with a dour attitude.

Eventually, however, they struck up a conversation. When she noted the number tattooed on his wrist, she realized he was a Holocaust survivor.

As the seven-hour flight passed, he told Jean about his arrest and transport on a dark freight car, the loss of each of his family members one by one, and his escape from the prison camp.

How had he escaped? she inquired. “Someone helped” was his succinct response.

He told her that after his escape, he had fled to Italy, where he spent two years at the Basilica of Assisi.

At great risk, the church had taken him in, given him a brown scapular to wear so he could blend in as a monk. He was instructed to be a silenzio fratello – always mute and unresponsive to any sounds, so that his accent would not give him away.

Eventually he moved on to Argentina and finally the United States where he ended up working as a university professor teaching the peaceful use of nuclear energy.

When they landed and walked onto the concourse, they turned to look at one another in the eye.

The man said, “You asked me earlier about the source of my strength through those terrible times.” He paused, then added with soft affection and respect, “Assissi! Assisi is where I met your Prince of Peace.”

We tend to think our location matters when searching for the divine. We should be in church or on a mountaintop. But more often, divine encounters seem to happen in disguise, such as hidden behind brown robes in a silent monastery.

The Holocaust survivor needed refuge, and he got it from several someones. He received refuge, not because he was a Christian, but because they were.

That’s the gospel that still moves the world. It is not loud or showy, but full of mercy, compassion and bravery. It’s also the gospel that reflects Christ, the Prince of Peace.

About the author: Rev. Sharon Smith is pastor at St. Paul’s Lutheran Church, a writer, and a professor. She believes that sometimes the holiest moments happen in ordinary spaces, like airplane aisles and checkout lines. She lives for the kind of story that starts as a coincidence and ends as something sacred. Contact Sharon at tct@pageone-inc.com