Homily | September 1, 2026 | Inside The Krakow Chapel That Formed John Paul II (Episode 255)

Well, it is a great privilege to be here.

There are certain places where you almost feel that you should speak more quietly.

This is certainly one of them.

We come here this morning to celebrate Mass in this private chapel in the Archbishop's Palace of Krakow.

And we're standing in a place that is intimately connected with the life of Saint John Paul II.

During the Nazi occupation, the young Carol Voitiva entered the clandestine seminary established by Archbishop Adam Stefan Safara.

The Nazis had closed the university and preparation for the priesthood had to be carried out in secret.

Then after the war on November 1st, 1946, right here in this private chapel, Archbishop Sepha laid his hands upon Carol Boitiwa and ordained him a priest, right here on this very floor.

Think about that for a moment.

Long before there was St.

Peter's Square, long before the white cassock, long before millions of people would gather around him to hear him preach, long before his famous be not afraid, there was this chapel, this very altar, a young Polish man, and there was God.

Years later, John Paul II wrote that he would return in his mind to this very chapel, to the place and moment when the grace of priesthood was given to him.

And that makes St.

Paul's letter for our first reading almost providential.

He says, We have not received the spirit of the world, but the spirit of who God is.

And then Paul ends with this remarkable statement: we have the mind of Christ.

What does that mean, actually?

Well, it does not mean that we suddenly understand everything God understands.

It means that the Christian gradually learns to see, learns to see reality differently, to see people as Christ sees them, to judge successes as Christ judges them, to understand suffering through Christ, to understand power, to understand ourselves.

But how does this happen?

Well, through prayer, not simply saying prayers, but really praying.

That quiet, sustained placing of ourselves before God until little by little his thoughts begin correcting ours, his desires begin purifying ours, his priorities begin rearranging ours.

And perhaps that's why this chapel is so moving.

Because when Carol Poitiwa later became the Archbishop of Krakow, this was not simply another room in his residence.

This was the place of intense deep prayer.

Imagine the things he must have carried into this chapel.

He used to sit right back there.

The concerns of his priest, the families who were struggling because of communism, young people whose faith was being challenged, a church living under atheistic regime, the future of Poland, the suffering of his people, decisions for which there were no easy answers.

And before carrying those things into meetings, sermons, and decisions, he carried them here before God.

And that may be one of the greatest lessons John Paul II to teach us.

Before he spoke to the world, he sat quietly and listened to God.

And perhaps that can help us understand a little bit about the gospel.

The people in Capernaum are astonished because Jesus is speaking with authority.

There's something different about his word, and they recognize it.

Even the unclean spirit recognizes it.

What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth?

I know who you are, the Holy One of God.

Jesus doesn't give a speech.

He does not enter into an argument.

He simply says, Be quiet.

Come out of him.

There is authority in his word because there is no division within him.

Jesus knows who he is.

He knows the Father.

He knows his mission.

He knows he does not need the approval of the crowd.

And that raises an important question for us.

Whose voices, whose voice has authority in my life?

Because there are plenty of voices competing for that authority.

The spirit of the world tells us what should matter, what we should own, what are the possessions we should have, what we should look like, what success means, what should impress us, and what we should fear.

And if we listen long enough, those voices can become so loud that eventually we cannot hear the very voice of God.

St.

Paul tells us something different.

We have not received the spirit of the word, the spirit of the world, but the spirit of who God is from God.

That's why precisely a place like this matters.

This chapel reminds us that some of the most important things that happen in the world begin where nobody's watching.

A man kneeling, a woman praying, a priest brings his people before God, a parent whispers the name of a child who's struggling.

Someone asks for courage, someone asks for forgiveness, someone simply sitting before God because they no longer know what to say.

And the world sees none of it, but God sees it.

We know what happened after Carol Bojtiwa prayed in this place.

Eventually that Polish priest would stand before the world.

He would confront communism without an army.

He would defend the dignity of human person.

He would travel farther than any Pope ever traveled.

He would help an entire generation rediscover the courage of faith.

But perhaps we should never separate the public John Paul II from the private Carol Voitwa.

The strength of the world eventually saw what formed him in a place like this.

How he was formed in silence before the Eucharist on his knees listening to God.

So perhaps today we should not merely be impressed that we were allowed to come into this very private chapel.

That would make us tourists again.

We should ask for the grace to learn what this chapel teaches me.

Why was I brought here to this very special place?

Yesterday we said that a pilgrim does not simply ask, What am I going to see today?

A pilgrim asks, What is God trying to show me?

And perhaps today God is showing us something very simple.

Before you speak, listen to God.

Before you decide, pray.

Before you carry burdens of other people, bring them to the Lord in the Eucharist.

Before you allow the world to tell you who you're supposed to be listening to, listen to the one who created you.

Because the world does not need more Christians who simply know to speak.

It needs Christians who have learned how to listen so deeply to the Word of God that they finally do speak something of Christ.

That Christ can be heard through them.

St.

Paul says it beautifully.

We have the mind of Christ.

May that be our prayer in this extraordinary place today.

Lord, quiet all the voices.

Teach us to listen.

Give us your spirit.

Give us your mind, and then send us back into the world to proclaim Jesus Christ crucified.

Amen.