75th Anniversary of Father Kapaun’s Death
On Saturday, May 23, 2026 we commemorate the ultimate offering of life of the Venerable Servant of God.
You can picture the scene that fateful day. The Chinese officers and guards of the POW camp forcefully making their way through the officer’s part of the compound, stopping outside a rickety mud hut with thatched roof. “Kapaun!” one of the English speaking Chinese officers shouts. “We are here to take him to the hospital.”
The American men rush to stand between their beloved chaplain, laying sick inside the hut, and his persecutors. The Communists level their guns and start to offer threats. Still, the feeble POWs don’t back down, even though they are weakened by sickness and malnutrition. The atmosphere is tense.
A quiet but firm voice rings out from inside the hut: “Boys, I don’t want any of you getting in trouble on account of me, I’ll go.”
Like Peter with Jesus, the men protest. But Father Kapaun is at peace. He knows it’s his time. He had fought the good fight, he had run the race, he had kept the faith. The only thing left was to consummate the sacrifice.
The men managed to buy some time with their chaplain, and he told them the story of the mother of the Seven Maccabees, the mother of great faith who encouraged her sons to accept death rather than denying their belief in God and rejecting his law.
Phil Peterson, who helped Fr. Kapaun lead the rosary at the Easter Service said, “I’m terribly sorry.” Father Kapaun almost came out of his skin. “You’re sorry for me?! I am going to be with Jesus Christ. And that is what I have worked for all my life. And you say you’re sorry for me? You should be happy for me!”
He looked over at Ralph Nardella, whose missal he had borrowed. “You know the prayers, Ralph. Keep holding the services. Don’t let them make you stop. And stick to the principals of the faith- all of them.”
Another man apparently needed some tough love to sort things out when he got home: “When you get back to Jersey, you get that marriage straightened out, or I’ll come down from heaven and kick you in the tail.”
Father Kapaun’s thoughts turned to his home, to his family and his bishop, who would likely feel a sense of responsibility for his death. “Walt,” he said, “if I don’t come back, tell my Bishop that I died a happy death.”
Many of the men were in tears at this statement, including Mike Dowe. They had drawn incredibly close to their chaplain during the trials of the prison camp.
“Don’t take it so hard Mike, I’m going where I always wanted to go, and when I get there I’ll say a prayer for all of you.” Words of faith, words of hope. Words that come from a life lived with Jesus Christ and poured out for others.
But that wasn’t all.
The guards made known that the grace period was over. It was time for Kapaun to go.
But instead of allowing the Chinese to carry their priest away, the prisoners insisted they assist their chaplain on his final journey. They carefully placed him on a stretcher and bent down to pick him up. The four skeletal men slowly made their way out of the compound.
On the way, something happened that astounded them. Father Kapaun made them stop in front of the commandant of the camp, and they heard his voice speak to the much-despised Chinse officer.
“Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
He continued. “Forgive me if I have wronged you.”
Then he raised his feeble arm and offered his blessing- God’s blessing- to his enemies. The men were stunned. Father Kapaun’s love extended even to those who were persecuting him and his fellow men. The image seared itself in their memories. Clearly the love of Christ had set him free from bitterness or concern.
As they left Father Kapaun at the Death House, they begged the other sick men to look after him. One man tried, but was turned away by the Communist guards. There was nothing they could do. Father Kapaun passed away, attended to only by his Savior, on May 23, 1951.
Far from inducing despair, Father Kapaun’s death brought hope and resilience to the men. They continued to band together to take care of one another and look forward to the day of their resurrection from the prison camp. And who could forget his final words, pointing them towards the true resurrection on the last day?
This was the witness of a life spent joyfully for the Lord, not complaining when small sacrifices are required of us, not holding onto bitterness or anger.
It is remarkable to consider how the grace of Father Kapaun’s sacrifice has only continued to spread as the years march on. Seventy-five years after his death, his impact has not diminished, but actually grown, to say nothing of his intercession from heaven.
We’re reminded of the words Our Lord spoke to us in the Gospel of John: “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains just a grain of wheat; but if it dies, it produces much fruit.”
Today we ask Father Kapaun’s intercession that our lives may be spent in union with Christ, who turns even the smallest offering into the weight of eternal glory.
Venerable Emil Kapaun, pray for us!