We all know that Christmas, when we celebrate the birth of our Savior, is intended to be a grace-filled time of year. Yet, as the father of five children, I know how hectic the Christmas season can be, especially for my wife. Rather than a time when peace should reign in our hearts, many of us are often anxious, and for some it can even be a time of severe depression.
The story below tells of one man's desire to celebrate Christmas Mass in a Communist prison, and in the process discover the true meaning of Christmas. Let this story remind you of the love that came to earth at Christmas as a little child, to set us free from the prison of sin and death and to bring us Jesus' peace. This freedom and peace is for all of us, whether we are actually in a physical prison, or are experiencing a spiritual or emotional prison in our hearts and mind. I hope you will remember this story in the midst of all the last minute rush before Christmas and right after Christmas.
Merry Christmas and may God richly bless you and your family during this season of grace,
Maurice Blumberg
Executive Director
National Fellowship of Catholic Men
Christmas in a Communist Prison, Discovering the True Meaning of Christmas
by Geza Balassy
In 1948 in Hungary, the communist government forbade all Catholic organizations. That meant that all organizations, equivalent to the CYO were forced underground. In 1952, they rounded up part of our organization, and I was one of the individuals arrested. On February 18, 1953 at the age of 23, I was sentenced to 15 years of imprisonment and narrowly escaped the death penalty. I was convicted of committing "Philosophical Conspiracy Against the Peoples Democracy."
I served four years in the State Prison in Vac, Hungary. In 1956, I was released for a six-month furlough. During the Freedom Fight of 1956 I escaped across the border to Austria. I should mention that the only reason I did not receive the death penalty was that a Salesian Order brother as the prosecution's prime witness against me (who was already sentenced to death in a related case) turned into a witness on my behalf when he was placed on the witness stand at my trial. His brave witness on my behalf saved me from receiving the death penalty. He was executed on June 3, 1953. I consider him to be a martyr of the Church.
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It was the middle of December 1954. Preparations to celebrate Christmas had begun. Forty-two of the twelve hundred inmates were priests. (What an enviable ratio.) Our greatest dream was that these priests could secretly celebrate Mass in their cells.
In order for this to occur, we needed to procure some wine and hosts for Communion, neither of which were readily available in a communist political prison. Our next greatest dream was to receive a special gift package from home. Everyone had great expectations (unrealistic as they may have been).
The prison rules were strict. Everyone was allowed to receive one five-pound package every six months, which could consist only of non-perishable food items and personal hygiene products. Despite these facts we waited for our packages in much the same manner as we used to wait for presents at Christmas. And now the first packages had arrived. I was among the first few inmates called into the censor's office for my "Christmas" package.
With mixed feelings of fear and expectation, I entered the room. I knew that the censor could confiscate the whole box if it contained just one item that was forbidden. The censor opened the package. The first item he picked out of the box was a small pine branch with a heart shaped candle attached to it. My mother sent me her heart. I knew this was a forbidden item. I feared that I would lose it. The censor did not waste any time. He ripped the gift out of the package and threw it on the floor. It landed at my feet. I could not bear the loss. As he turned around I quickly bowed down, picked it up and tucked it in my shirt. Just as I finished, he turned back to continue checking the rest of the package's contents. I did not really pay any attention to the rest. I have received my present.
When the censor was done, I picked up my box and left the room. Once in my cell I waited until the lights were turned off, when I was sure no one would see my gift, and hid it in my straw mattress. This was no easy task since the cells were twenty-by-eight feet rooms and housed twelve prisoners each.
The next morning before going to work, I secretly tucked my gift in my shirt and took it to the factory (the prison had a button factory.) I worked as a maintenance electrician. Consequently I was to move from room to room, from the basement to the fourth floor.
Those assigned to operate machines were not allowed to leave the floor of their work assignment. I hid the heart-candle in the basement. Once I had insured that my "treasure" was hidden, I busied myself with preparations for our Christmas Mass. At a negotiated price, we had obtained the wine we needed from one of the guards. However, we still needed hosts, which we could not "buy." I then remembered that when I was an altar boy at my home parish, I had participated in the baking of the hosts. I decided to make the hosts myself.
I procured two small stainless steel panels and made a one-inch circular indentation in one of them. I used supplies from the electrical shop to build a hotplate. Another inmate "obtained" some flour from the kitchen. I went down to the corner of the basement and found an electrical outlet. I built a barricade from empty boxes that hid me from the sight of any guards who may have entered to search the basement.
It was Christmas week. At the start of my shift I took my tools to make it appear as if I was going to repair some electrical equipment and I slipped down to the basement. I mixed the flour with water into a paste. I than poured just enough of the paste to fill the indentation I had made on the stainless plate, covered it with the other plate, squeezed the two plates with a pair of pliers and put it on the hot plate. It took me two days to bake enough for the priests and communicants. I finished baking the hosts on the 23rd, the day before our midnight Mass, which allowed me to deliver the hosts to the priests.
On December 24 at the end of my shift I took my treasure from its hiding place and tucked it in my shirt once again to transport it to our cell. As we arrived to the cellblock corridor we were greeted by a group of guards who ordered us to strip for search. I was scared. Not as much of the punishment I would receive but for the loss of my treasure and the loss of Christmas along with it.
As I pulled off my boots I slid the branch and candle into one of them. I took the cloth we used as socks and stuffed it on top of it. I had just finished this "operation" when the guard came to check my clothing, which was now in a pile on the floor. He searched thoroughly but found nothing that was forbidden.
"Shake out your boots" he ordered. I grabbed the boots at the soft part (near the lower calf) and squeezed them while shaking them vigorously in the air. "You may dress", the guard said. I dressed.
"You may also put your boots on."
"I will put them on in the cell," I answered.
Once in the cell, I stuck the heart and branch in my straw mattress again. I waited until the lights were turned off. I pulled my gift out of the mattress and put it on a stool at the door under the guard's peephole. This way any of the guards who might look through the peephole could not see it. We found a match and lit the candle. In soft, low tone we began singing Christmas carols. In memory I recalled the beauty of past Christmas celebrations at home.
After we had finished singing our carols, the priest in our cell celebrated midnight mass.
We felt the presence of Jesus in our cell. He was with us while our hearts and minds were with our loved ones. He shared our lives, our sorrows, and our tears. It was then that we realized the real meaning of Christmas.
Christ had become one of us.
There are people who, to this day, are being imprisoned for their faith (in places as Cuba, China, North Korea etc.) Let us pray that they will experience the presence of Jesus especially during Christmas.
Geza Balassy was a permanent deacon in the Diocese of Cleveland.
Many thanks to The Word Among Us for allowing us to use this article from their monthly devotional magazine. Used with permission.
Questions for Reflection/Discussion by Catholic Men
1. How would you explain to another man what the driving force was in Geza Balassy and the other prisoners that would cause them to risk everything to celebrate Christmas Mass in their cells?
2. How would you describe Geza's understanding of "the real meaning of Christmas?" How does it compare to your own understanding?
3. What impact has this article had on how you are preparing to celebrate the coming of Christ at Christmas?
4. The article mentions that many people are being imprisoned for their faith. If you are in a men's group, take some time at the end of your meeting to pray for these people. Continue individually, and perhaps with your family, to pray for them throughout the Christmas season, and throughout the year.
