Author: Christine Jordan

Dear Friends,

In our Gospel today we heard two examples, two stories of great faith.  Each story though separate parallels the other.  Both the woman and the girl are dead, one physically and the other spiritually.  First the woman, at that time according to Mosaic Law a hemorrhaging woman was considered ritually impure.  And if you go to the book of Leviticus in the Old Testament you’ll find all the prescriptions, and laws, and directives that guided the life of the faithful Jew.  Leviticus lists what they could touch or not touch, what they could eat and not eat.  Now for this woman considered unclean anything she touched or sat upon also became unclean.  Any person she touched would become unclean.  She would’ve been shunned by her husband and all the people of her community.  She wasn’t even allowed to enter the Temple to worship.  So for twelve years she had been kept at a distance, kept at a distance from her family and her friends and from God.  She was a pariah who couldn’t participate in all the ordinary things of life.  I’m sure that on top of the physical suffering there was a tremendous amount of psychological and spiritual suffering.

Now this woman has been to many doctors and it’s only gotten worse.  But she’s heard of this healer named Jesus, the messiah maybe, and in her deep faith she reasons, “If I but touch his clothes, I shall be healed.”   And so she touches Jesus, and in doing so, according to Mosaic Law she’s made him unclean.   And the crowd was very uncomfortable with this woman touching Jesus and when found out she approaches Jesus in fear and trembling.  She has done something very terrible; she’s broken the Law of Moses.  But a miracle has happened, Jesus isn’t made unclean the exact opposite has happened the woman is cured and made clean.  She is restored to life in her family and in the community.  She can worship again in the temple.

Now in the other story we hear of Jairus the synagogue official.  And he too exhibits a deep faith in Jesus’ ability to heal.  He would have been a prominent layman whose duties would have included oversight of synagogue activities and finances.  This man’s humble posture before Jesus, he fell at his feet, is remarkable in view of the fact that Jesus’ last visit to the synagogue ended with a plot to kill him.  Now Jesus, when he gets to the house of Jairus, does something forbidden by Mosaic Law he touches the dead girl’s hand.  This would have made him impure.  Only the immediate family could touch the dead body.  But his healing touch raises her to life.

Through these two miracles Jesus puts an end to the ritual code found in Leviticus.  He was not made unclean.  Contact with Jesus made the unclean clean.  The New Israel, the Church, is brought about through contact with him.  His touch brings life.  As we heard in the first reading, “God did not make death.”  It’s the exact opposite he created us to have life. And to have life to the fullest with him.  When we kneel before the priest in the confessional and open our hearts to God’s mercy, we are like Jairus kneeling before Christ in Galilee.  When we touch the body and blood of Jesus in the Eucharist, we are like the woman with hemorrhages.  In both instances Christ’s divine life flows into our wounded lives.  The same Jesus of the Gospels is still at work through the sacraments, still present and active today, still healing, giving life, and strengthening those with faith.  And so we approach the sacraments with humble faith.

Let me end with a couple of questions. When we approach our Lord in the sacraments, do we approach him like one in the crowd we heard about in the Gospel who half-consciously jostles up against him preoccupied by many other thoughts?  Or, do we approach Him in the way of the afflicted woman or Jairus?   Because they are models for us in the way to approach Jesus.  While crowds of people were bumping into him as he walked along, the woman with hemorrhages and Jairus purposefully set out to meet him and to touch him.  They trusted his power.  They trusted his touch.  Their deep faith brought them into contact with Jesus and as a result they experienced dramatic healing.

God did not make death so with every sacrament we receive we get a dose of his divine life.  Let us ask always for healing let us ask always for life.  As you approach the sacraments ask yourself; where do I need healing?  Where do I need life?  How do I need healing?  How do I need life?  And then in faith ask for it.  May we be like the kneeling Jairus and the afflicted woman approaching Jesus with faith trusting in his power and in his touch.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

From a work by Saint Bonaventure, bishop

With you is the source of life

Take thought now, redeemed man, and consider how great and worthy is he who hangs on the cross for you. His death brings the dead to life, but at his passing heaven and earth are plunged into mourning and hard rocks are split asunder.

It was a divine decree that permitted one of the soldiers to open his sacred side with a lance. This was done so that the Church might be formed from the side of Christ as he slept the sleep of death on the cross, and so that the Scripture might be fulfilled: ‘They shall look on him whom they pierced’. The blood and water which poured out at that moment were the price of our salvation. Flowing from the secret abyss of our Lord’s heart as from a fountain, this stream gave the sacraments of the Church the power to confer the life of grace, while for those already living in Christ it became a spring of living water welling up to life everlasting.

Arise, then, beloved of Christ! Imitate the dove ‘that nests in a hole in the cliff’, keeping watch at the entrance ‘like the sparrow that finds a home’. There like the turtledove hide your little ones, the fruit of your chaste love. Press your lips to the fountain, ‘draw water from the wells of your Savior; for this is the spring flowing out of the middle of paradise, dividing into four rivers’, inundating devout hearts, watering the whole earth and making it fertile.

Run with eager desire to this source of life and light, all you who are vowed to God’s service. Come, whoever you may be, and cry out to him with all the strength of your heart. “O indescribable beauty of the most high God and purest radiance of eternal light! Life that gives all life, light that is the source of every other light, preserving in everlasting splendor the myriad flames that have shone before the throne of your divinity from the dawn of time! Eternal and inaccessible fountain, clear and sweet stream flowing from a hidden spring, unseen by mortal eye! None can fathom your depths nor survey your boundaries, none can measure your breadth, nothing can sully your purity. From you flows ‘the river which gladdens the city of God’ and makes us cry out with joy and thanksgiving in hymns of praise to you, for we know by our own experience that ‘with you is the source of life, and in your light we see light’.

Dear Friends,

With this parable of the mustard seed Jesus is helping his audience grasp the mystery and grandeur of God’s Kingdom.  And because the kingdom is a divine reality it can’t be fully defined or contained in human explanations.  It can, however, be understood by using analogies, word pictures for our minds that help us to think and ponder and meditate at a deeper level.

For Jesus the thing of earth that is most suitable as an analogy to the kingdom is a tiny seed and Jesus emphasizes its smallness.  For the Jewish audience hearing this for the very first time, this would have come as a surprise.  For them a more predictable comparison would be a mighty army.  They expected their messiah to be a great earthly ruler commanding a large battalion of soldiers.

But no, the kingdom is like a mustard seed, “The smallest of all seeds on earth” the most insignificant of seeds.  But Jesus adds once sown, “It springs up and becomes the largest of plants.”  And in mentioning the large branches that shelter many birds Jesus is reminding us of the Old Testament prophet Ezekiel who writes of a lofty tree that symbolized an empire that gives protection to all people of different races and languages.

Early Christians saw in this parable of the mustard seed Jesus Christ himself.  Jesus was the mustard seed.  Christ crucified, a young man on a cross dying alone and mocked was the mustard seed.  But from this despicable low beginning, through the power of the resurrection and the sending of the Holy Spirit a great Church was born that now reaches every continent with over a billion souls.  This growth is not due to human methods but to God’s hidden power.  Jesus speaks with utter assurance of the future success of the Kingdom urging his disciples, urging every one of us, to persevere with hope and patience.

Now this parable of the mustard seed is repeated over and over and over again in the history of the Church.  We see it in the saints and their works and we see it in ourselves. We see the mustard seed in St. Francis, one lone man considered crazy and deranged at first who, as we know, went on to found and form a world-wide order of both men and women.  We see the mustard seed again in Mother Theresa one lone sister going into the slums of Calcutta but emerging to form another world-wide order helping the poor in every major city of the world.  And in a last example we see the mustard seed in St. Charles Lwanga a Ugandan whose feast we celebrated on June 3^rd.

On June 3^rd of this month just ten days ago 500,000 African Catholics came to the site of his martyrdom in Namugongo to celebrate his feast day.  St. Charles was a page to King Mwanga back in the 1880s.  King Mwanga was a violent ruler who demanded certain favors from the court pages and attendants.  As the oldest page Charles tried to protect the younger ones from the king’s advances.  This enraged the king he wanted nothing to do with Christianity.  He expelled the missionaries and at one point locked his royal household staff within the gates of the palace saying, “Those who do not pray stand by me, those who do pray stand over there.”  Those who prayed were martyred; Charles Lwanga was among this group.  The Christians were taken on a 37 mile trek to the place of execution at Namugongo.  Wrapped in reed mats the Christians were burned to death.  Charles endured the flames without complaint and the very last words to come out of his mouth were a long drawn out sigh of “Oh God.”  A century ago there were hardly any Catholics in Africa; today it is the fastest growing religion with over 400 million.  The mustard seed grows.

Now we can see this mustard seed in us as well, both physically and spiritually.  Back in 1991 John Cardinal O’Connor of New York founded the Sisters of Life.  They are a religious community of nuns founded with the apostolate of protecting and enhancing the sacredness of all human life.  Part of their religious habit is a medal of our Lady and on the back of the medal is the inscription, “Nothing again would be casual or small.”  It is meant to be a reminder that all human life, no matter however seemingly small or insignificant in the eyes of others, is important.  The great beauty of the human person, created in the image of God, begins with the joining of just two microscopic cells, smaller even than the mustard seed.  And yet those two cells grow to be the people we see all around us.  Through the love of God the seed grows.

We see this in our spiritual life as well.  Holiness is a process.  Sanctity doesn’t usually happen all at once.  There is growth, usually imperceptible to us.  But we persist in the sacrament of reconciliation, the Eucharist every Sunday, and prayer and good works every day.  God is always at work within us bringing his plan to completion.  Never give up on God he is nurturing that seed within our soul.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

When my nephews were a lot younger they liked to help me when I washed my truck my nephew Owen especially liked to help.  Now that they’re all teenagers they’re not as helpful.  I remember this one instance with Owen, we sprayed, we soaped, we wiped, we armoralled, we windexed, and at last we waxed every square inch of my truck.  It was so shiny.    Owen was impressed with the shine and he kept looking at his reflection.  If you’ve ever looked at your reflection in a newly polished car door you’ll remember that everything is distorted.  It’s like looking at your reflection in a funhouse mirror.  Owen looked at himself in the shine of the door and saw a shorter and much much wider version of himself.  Owen then shouted out to me pointing at the truck, “Uncle Chris, look at me, look at my reflection, I look just like Grandma.”  His reflection did sort of look like my Mom.  Children have a way of speaking the truth; sometimes it can be funny but sometimes it can be quite profound.

Years ago when I was still a seminarian I had to find some altar boys for a morning Mass.  I found two young boys, they were brothers.  One had served before the other hadn’t.  I told the one who hadn’t to just follow the lead of his older brother.  They did a great job.  The younger brother followed his brother’s lead perfectly.  At Communion time they both received the Sacred Host.  After Mass the younger brother excitedly ran back to his Mom saying, “I ate God, I ate God.”  Unknowingly the priest had given this younger brother his First Holy Communion.  He was only in first grade.  But in his excitedly spoken three words, “I ate God” this first grader spoke a profound and ancient truth.

This Solemnity today, the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ was given to us back in the 13^th century by Pope Urban IV.  And he gave the Church this solemnity in part because of a theologian by the name of Berengarius.   Berengarius was a wayward theologian and had taught against the true presence of our Lord in the Eucharist.  And many people were coming to take for granted the Eucharist.  They were beginning to doubt and disbelieve, even some priests.  As you can imagine the Pope did not want this.  He wanted more reverence and more piety in regards to the Eucharist he wanted everyone to believe in the real presence and to help us he gave us this feast we celebrate today.

Now at this same time period there was a priest by the name of Fr. Peter of Prague, he was making a pilgrimage to Rome.  And like many people of the time he harbored great doubt about the True Presence, of Christ’s real presence in the Eucharist.  But he was still faithful to his priestly duties and to celebrating Mass every day.  So as he was making his way to Rome he stopped at a small church to celebrate Mass, this was just outside of the city of Orvieto, Italy.  He dutifully and carefully celebrated Mass but with all the doubts he harbored it was a very distracted Mass for him.  He kept thinking over and over, “Am I doing this for nothing?”  “Is this real?”  “Am I really offering to the Father the sacrifice of the real body and blood of Jesus?  Is this really Calvary made present to me?”  But then after the consecration, a miracle happened, the host began to bleed, the blood dripped down his hands and arms and unto the corporal linen that lay on the altar.  As with all Masses Calvary was made present.  Fr. Peter was amazed, all doubt evaporated.  He ran to the city of Orvieto where coincidentally Pope Urban IV was staying.  He found the Pope and confessed his doubt and the miracle that wiped all the doubt away.  The Pope sent a delegation to investigate.  This was Heavenly confirmation, and so the feast we celebrate today was instituted the following year of 1263.   The Corporal linen stained with the blood is still on display in the Cathedral of Orvieto.

The ultimate purpose of all of God’s saving deeds is to elevate us to the status of his adopted sons and daughters.  The early Christians would say of Christ:  “He became man so that we might become gods!” God wants to share his divine life with us.  Our Lord says to us, “You will not change me into yourself, but, you will be changed into me.”  And this is made concrete and tangible and possible for us in the Sacrament that we celebrate today and every day.  “Whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood remains in me and I in him.  The one who feeds on me will have life because of me.”  If we let him, if we are prepared, the Eucharist draws us directly and intimately into the divine life of the Holy Trinity.   Venial sins are purged, virtues are increased, and our souls are filled with spiritual gifts.  The humble servant feeds upon his Lord!

When Pope Urban IV created this Solemnity he envisioned processions where the Blessed Sacrament would be carried solemnly through the streets of cities and towns.  Bringing our Lord into the ordinariness of our daily life, because He walks where we walk, and He lives where we live and as we walk on the streets of this earth, we know that He is at our side always. He walks among us to guide us to Heaven.   In Orvieto, Italy this morning there was a two hour long procession and during those two hours only two stops were made.  The first was the convent of cloistered Carmelite nuns, who aren’t allowed to go out,  and the second stop was at the local prison.  At both of these stops the Cardinal carrying the Monstrance offers special prayers and blessings.  In these two stops we are reminded that our Eucharistic Lord comes to every one of us.  He comes to both saints and sinners alike.  The love of Christ is intended for all.

At the end of Mass along with that first grader we can say, “I ate God” but it doesn’t end there because we bring him into the World, which is in desperate need of knowing Him.  And even if we don’t take part in an organized solemn procession, every time we leave Mass we in a real and profound way are processing out bringing our Lord into the World.

“When you have received the Eucharist, stir up your heart to do him homage; speak to Him about your spiritual life, gazing upon Him in your soul where He is present for your happiness; welcome Him as warmly as possible, and behave outwardly in such a way that your actions may give proof to all of His presence.”

St. Francis de Sales

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Once during my seminary studies one of my priests gave me a copy of what a consulting firm might have said about the original 12 apostles.  This is the report they gave to Jesus

It is our opinion that the 12 men you have picked to manage your new organization lack the background, educational and vocational aptitude for the type of enterprise you are undertaking.  They do not have the team concept.  Simon Peter is emotionally unstable and given to fits of temper.  Andrew has no qualities of leadership.  The two brothers, James and John, place personal interest above company loyalty.  Thomas demonstrates a questioning attitude that would lend itself to undermining morale.  We feel it is our duty to tell you that the Greater Jerusalem Better Business Bureau has censured Matthew for unfair business practices.  James the son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot both have radical leanings and both registered high on the manic-depressive scale.  One of the candidates, however, shows great potential. He is a man of ability and resourcefulness, has a keen business mind and possesses contacts in high places.  He is highly motivated and ambitious.  We recommend Judas Iscariot as your vice president and right hand man.  We wish you every success in your new venture.

And it is to this unimpressive group, with so many failings, that our Lord says, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.  And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”  This last line makes all the difference; I am with you always, until the end of the age. “I am with you always until the end of the age.”  The apostles didn’t have to do it on their own; they couldn’t do it on their own.  Without our Lord they couldn’t have done anything on their own.

Now this is something that Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity understood very well, although it took her a while.  She grew up in France in the late eighteen hundreds; she was the daughter of a successful military officer who died of a heart attack while she was still only a girl.  Elizabeth was an extremely strong-willed and temperamental child.  Her frequent fits of rage were almost uncontrollable; it was so bad that her mom often called her the “little devil.”  This began to change, however, after her first Communion, when she was eleven. That afternoon she met for the first time the prioress of the nearby Carmelite convent.  The nun explained that the girl’s name, Elizabeth, meant “house of God,” and wrote her a note that said:  “Your blessed name hides a mystery, accomplished on this great day. Child, your heart is the House of God on earth, of the God of love.”

From then on, recognizing that God had taken up residence in her soul, she waged a holy war against her violent temper.  She didn’t win overnight, but she did win, eventually, and she also discovered her vocation to become a Carmelite sister.  Her mother didn’t like the idea, however, and made her wait until she was twenty-one.  She won friends of all ages during these years of waiting, singing in the parish choirs, arranging parish day-care service for families that worked in the local tobacco factory, and also winning several prizes for her skill at the piano.  She died only five years after entering the convent, at the age of 26, after having suffered horribly for months from an extremely painful disease of the kidneys.  But her realization that the Blessed Trinity dwelt within her enabled her to suffer with patience and even with joy.  As she wrote to her mother:  “The bride belongs to the bridegroom, and mine has taken me.  Jesus wants me to be another humanity for him in which he can still suffer for the glory of his Father, to help the needs of his Church: this thought has done me so much good.”

Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity had discovered the intimate, loving presence of God that he so eagerly wants to reveal to all of us.  The reason God has revealed himself to us so thoroughly is because he yearns for our friendship. That’s what he created us for.  But friendship is always a two-way street. God has done his part by opening himself up to us. That was what the Incarnation was all about.  That is what the ongoing life of the Church is all about:  the sacraments, Church teaching, the sacred Scriptures, and even the beauties of nature, God’s first book of revelation.  They are all ways God has invented to speak to us, to invite us into an ever deeper personal relationship with him.  But that relationship doesn’t happen automatically – friendship never does.

Cardinal Mercier of Belgium (d1920) once made the bold claim, that he knew the secret of holiness, happiness, and friendship with our Lord.  He said, “I’m going to reveal to you the secret, every day for five minutes control your imagination and close your eyes to the things of sight, and close your ears to all the noises of the world. Do this in order to enter into yourself.  Then, in the sanctity of your Baptized soul, which is the temple of the Blessed Trinity, speak to our Lord, saying to Him, ‘O Blessed Trinity, Soul of my soul, I adore You! Enlighten me, guide me, strengthen me, and console me.  Tell me what I should do; give me your orders.  I promise to submit myself to all that you desire of me, and to accept all that you permit to happen to me.  Just make me know your will.”  Cardinal Mercier goes on to say, “if you do this, your life will flow along happily, serenely, and full of consolation, even in the midst of trial, the grace you need will  be given to you to keep you strong.”

Again the last line of the Gospel, “I am with you always until the end of the age.”  The apostles, unlikely leaders as they were, Blessed Elizabeth, once described as a devil child, all came to realize they held a priceless gift within.  They were houses of God.  The Apostles, Blessed Elizabeth and you are Houses of God, baptism makes it so.  Your house is part of an awesome and great Heavenly community.  Let us find that time every day to listen, and to obey the soul of our soul the Blessed Trinity.  And we will be sanctified.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Last week we remembered the Ascension, the day our Lord returned to Heaven but not before promising to send the Holy Spirit.  And today on Pentecost we remember when the Apostles and Mary received the Holy Spirit as in tongues of fire. Now Wednesday of this week is the Feast day of St. Philip Neri, he’s one of my favorites.  For the collect of that Mass we will pray about the Holy Spirit as a holy fire.  We will pray, “O God … graciously grant that the Holy Spirit may kindle in us that fire which he wonderfully filled the heart of St. Philip Neri.”

Now some have called St. Philip Neri, Mr. Happy go Lucky.  He had a great sense of humor, sometimes shaving off half of his beard.  Or making some design in the stubble of his beard.   He was eccentric but at the very same time he was also very holy and humble.  He was a priest who lived in Rome during the 16^th century.  And the beginning of that century marked a very low point in our Church’s history.  There was corruption, priests were not celebrating Mass or the sacraments, and people didn’t pray, or even know their faith.  But Philip Neri helped to change that, through his joyous and holy example, he brought many back to the faith.  And for that he’s been called the Second Apostle of Rome,  St. Paul being the first.

A certain bishop once visited Philip Neri for dinner.  This Bishop was not the best example of Christian charity.  And to help serve the meal Philip used the assistance of a monkey; however, the monkey was dressed to look like the Bishop.  The monkey wore a tiny miter on his head and carried a tiny crosier.  I’m not sure the Bishop got the message.  Philip’s penances given in the confessional were sometimes creative.  Once a prideful young man came to him to confess his sins, for penance the young man was made to carry a tiny dog wearing a big pink bow.  The young man had to carry this dog all around Rome for a month.  This is not something a young man would do at that time.  It would have been a very humbling experience.  Because of his joyful holiness many were attracted to St. Philip Neri.  His room would always be filled with visitors seeking his advice, his prayers, and the sacraments, the sacrament of reconciliation especially.  He brought people closer and closer to our Lord.

Philip Neri arranged spiritual talks, discussions and prayers for his penitents.   He would also organize day long pilgrimages where he and his band of followers would visit the seven Basilicas of Rome where they would pray in each one of them.  And in between the visits to the churches there would be parades, music, picnics and lots of laughter.  Now because of his exuberant joy he became suspect, so he was investigated.  The higher ups wondered, “Why is this man so happy?”  It’s a sad day when holy joy becomes suspect, but nothing sinful was ever found, he exhibited true Christian joy, a fruit the Holy Spirit.  Some of Philip’s followers became priests and they came to live together in community.  This was the beginning of the Oratory, the religious institute he founded.   Philip’s advice was sought by many of the prominent figures of his day.  He’s one of the most influential figures of the Counter-Reformation, mainly for converting to personal holiness many of the influential people within the Church itself.

As I said before the collect, the opening prayer, for the Feast day of Philip Neri, speaks of the Holy Spirit.  That prayer asks God the Father in his love to kindle in us the fire of the Holy Spirit who so filled the heart of Philip Neri.  This prayer refers to Philip’s personal Pentecost.  As a young man Philip would walk to the catacombs every night and pray to the Holy Spirit.  One night he felt a violent inrush of the Spirit and with this inrush he felt a tremendous heat and his heart began to beat wildly.  From that time forward, for more than fifty years, any time Philip became lost in deep prayer his heart would beat wildly and loudly.  So loud, that those close to him could hear it.  At his death they found that his heart was twice the size of a normal heart pushing two of his ribs outward.  His enlarged heart, however, never affected his health.

Many times when we try to explain the Holy Spirit the words heat and fire are used as an explanation of the Spirit’s power.  In Luke’s gospel Jesus says, “I have come to cast fire upon the earth; and would that it were already kindled!” (Luke 12:49).  Few words in the English language get our attention like “fire.”  People follow fire engines, and if not stopped, fire will devour everything in its path.  It’s relentless, and the more it consumes, the more unstoppable it becomes.  Fire breeds fire.  It cannot be satisfied.  As long as there is fuel and the conditions are right it will continue to burn.   And this is the image that Jesus chooses to convey the nature of his love for us.  “I have come to cast fire upon the earth, and would that it were already kindled.” 

Now in the Old Testament Moses too spoke of this fire.  Some of Moses’ final words to the Israelites were these:  “For the Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous  God!” (Deut 4:24).  Jealous because God will not be content until we find our rest and satisfaction only in Him.  Consuming because he removes all that is sinful and unworthy in us.  At Pentecost this divine fire touched the disciples.  At baptism and confirmation this same fire touches us.  And this fire of the Holy Spirit, like all fires needs to be sustained if it is to burn.  It needs to be sustained.  And it is the Eucharist that feeds this flame within our heart and soul.  The Eucharist is the most perfect way to sustain the fire of the Holy Spirit.  There are other ways but the Eucharist is the most perfect way.

For St. Philip Neri the Eucharist was his joy.  Sometime the Masses he celebrated would take up to four hours to complete.  After the consecration he’d just stand there lost in thought at the great mystery before him on the altar.  His altar boys learned to take a break at this point, they’d leave for a two hour coffee break, leaving a “do not disturb” note on the chapel door.   They’d come back after two hours to help finish the Mass.  And at night he’d spend hours in prayer before the Tabernacle.  The Blessed Sacrament fed the flame of the Holy Spirit within his heart.  And the proof is his life where we see all the fruits of the Holy Spirit, love, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, and joy, most especially joy.

Everything available to the saints and those first disciples at Pentecost is available to us.  The Eucharist adored outside of Mass and received worthily at Mass will keep the flame of the Holy Spirit burning hot and bright within our Heart and Soul.    Catholics should be the most joyful and spirit filled Christians around.

“O God … graciously grant that the Holy Spirit may kindle in us that fire which he wonderfully filled the heart of St. Philip Neri.”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today we celebrate our Lord’s departure from earth.  Forty days after the Resurrection, with his disciples and Apostles gathered around him, Jesus ascended back into Heaven, back to his Father’s side. Back to where he had come from at the moment of the incarnation.  And now today we celebrate that return to heaven.  But instead of making us sad we are filled with hope.  In one of our Mass prayers we hear, “Christ has passed beyond our sight, not to abandon us but to be our hope.  Because where he has gone we hope to follow.  If Jesus had not ascended into heaven, body and soul, humanity and divinity, we would not be able to hope for heaven ourselves, to be immersed in that Heavenly bliss.

Not long ago Pope Francis, when describing the Ascension, compared Jesus to a roped guy leading an expedition up a mountain.  This lead guy has a strong rope tied around his waist, dragging yards of rope behind, with everyone that follows grabbing onto it.  And when that roped guy gets to the top he turns around to pull everyone else up to the top.  Jesus is like that lead roped guy climbing a mountain.  When he gets to the top he turns around to pull us up.  This heavenly rope of grace pulls us toward paradise.

At Mass we get a hint of that heavenly rope pulling us up.  There is one Mass in particular that stands out to me.  It was the Mass where Fr. Jose was ordained, with three other men, to the Transitional Diaconate.  It was six years ago and it really made an impression.    It was a beautiful Mass, there were flowers, the music was awesome, there was the choir the organ and the trumpets, the Cathedral was packed with people all dressed up, and the sanctuary was crammed with priests.  I was in the back row smooshed between two other larger very healthy priests. Now for each reading someone from the assembly came up to the ambo to read the scripture passage.  For the first reading the woman was very slow in making her way to the ambo, heads were beginning to turn.  I’m sure they were thinking, “What’s going on?”  I think the first lector was slow in realizing that it was her time to read.  But when she got there she did a marvelous job.  Next we sang the psalm, the choir did a wonderful job and everyone in the assembly sang along. Now for the second reading the lector was very prompt in getting to the ambo, she learned from the first reader.  But before she began to read, she blurted something out, now this isn’t something you’re supposed to do, but she blurted something out, before doing the reading, she said, “This is Heaven!”   Then she turned around to smile at the Bishop.  Of course he smiled back at her.  Then she began to read.

Those three words stuck with me throughout the Mass.  The words, “This is Heaven” rattled around in my mind for the next hour and a half.  Now it’s true, every time Mass is celebrated Heaven and earth are joined.  One of our Deacons once said, “When we come to Mass it’s like dipping our big toe into Heaven.”    Now right after Holy Communion I went back to my seat to make a thanksgiving and that’s when those words, “This is Heaven” really hit me.  I felt the love of the Lord, I felt that rope tugging at me from above.

Every time we pray, every time we receive the sacraments, and every time we come to Mass we are making acts of Faith, Hope, and Charity.  Sometimes, not always but sometimes,  our Lord makes these acts so very sweet that we can “feel” them within the depth of our soul.  We feel his Divine presence.  Now we don’t pray with the intention of receiving these consolations, we pray because that is our duty to God.  But every once in a while to bolster us, to bolster our faith, hope, and charity we receive these little consoling tugs from that heavenly rope.  These tugs strengthen our theological virtues.  It’s so very sweet.

On this Ascension Day we especially remember the virtue of hope.  And as Christians we can hope more than anyone else, because Christ has ascended into heaven in his human nature.  Jesus is now ruling the universe in his human nature.  His Ascension is a bridge, a rope, between heaven and earth.  We are not abandoned.  We are guaranteed a room in the Father’s house because Jesus has gone to get one ready for each of us.  Those who die in Christ’s friendship will not melt back into some impersonal void.  We will not be annihilated we will not lose our humanity; we will experience it to the full and then some.

As Pope Francis said, “Jesus is like a roped guy climbing a mountain. When he gets to the top he turns around to pull us up.”  Sometimes we feel that rope tugging us up, sometimes we don’t but in the virtues of faith, hope and charity let yourself be pulled to Heaven, always put yourself in a place to be tugged up to Heaven.  By putting yourself in a place of prayer, and sacrament, and Mass, put yourself in a place to be tugged up to Heaven.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Jim, 32 years old, was a devout Catholic Marine and he had always dreamed of meeting Mother Teresa.  Jim had ten days of approved leave.  And he decided, in that time off, to fly 8,000 miles, from San Francisco to Calcutta.  When Jim’s plane landed in Calcutta he was taken by taxi through a maze of narrow streets filled with garbage.  He was shocked by the poor, humid and dusty atmosphere that greeted his eyes.  After what seemed like hours he found himself at Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity.

At the door he was greeted by a tiny Indian sister, who when Jim said he had come to meet Mother Teresa, said to him, “I’m sorry, sir, Mother Teresa isn’t here.  She had to leave for Rome.”  Rome! He said out loud, dejected and stripped of his dream meeting, and having traveled so far, the marine swallowed his disappointment, and decided to stay anyway.  He then asked the nun at the door if there was any way he could help out.

Of course, she said; there are three ways you can help:  clean the house, or cook for the residents, or care for the dying.    Jim couldn’t cook, and he wasn’t keen on tending those who were dying.  So he offered to clean the building.  So he was given a tiny, noisy room near the street to stay in for his ten day leave.

Over the next week Jim mopped, scoured, and polished like never before in his life.  His Marine training paid off.  At the end of each day he collapsed into his bed and fell to sleep immediately.  After seven days of cleaning Jim was given the morning off to go exploring the city.  But at the last minute the sisters asked if, instead of sight-seeing, he might instead watch the front door and open it for visitors when they rang the doorbell.  Very disappointed Jim did as was asked, and that morning he sat by the door waiting for the doorbell to ring.  He didn’t have to wait long for the bell to ring and when he opened the door, there stood Mother Teresa.  He was speechless; there she was the most famous Catholic in the world outside of the pope, standing there, half his size, radiating this intense joy.

In her Albanian accent, Mother Teresa said simply, “Come with me, we have work to do!”  She led him quickly and silently through the slums until they arrived at the underside of a bridge where the air was saturated with filth.  The odors were nauseating, almost unbearable.  Mother Teresa seemed oblivious to it.  Jim was almost to the point of vomiting.  But there under the bridge, sprawled on the ground, was an elderly man lying in his own excrement, vomit, and whatever else had accumulated on his clothing for months if not years.  The odor was so powerful that Jim had to keep turning his head.  The old man had wounds that were infected and had attracted many flies.

“Take him!”  said Mother Teresa.   Jim thought with revulsion, “take him, and touch him?”  But he did, he rolled his sleeves down over his hands so he wouldn’t make direct contact.  He lifted the old man up and following Mother Teresa they made their way back to the house.  And when they got back Mother Teresa instructed Jim to give the man a bath.  That was about the last thing in the world Jim wanted to do, but he didn’t want to disappoint Mother Teresa, and he didn’t want the old man’s final memory to include an American who had turned away from him in disgust.

And so he placed the man in a tub and with lots of soap and water he began to gently wash him, and he soon began to think it wasn’t so bad.  After washing the old man he rocked him in his arms letting him know he wasn’t alone, in his final hours.  And that’s when Jim saw the old man transform.  Jesus was now in the Marine’s arms.  No amount of blinking could alter the transformation.  He was holding the Lord in his own arms.  This was not a vision, but Jesus himself was there, there were holes in His hands and feet.  His side had a gaping wound, and his swollen face had the marks of trauma.

He looked to Mother Teresa for an explanation and she simply said, “You see Him too, don’t you.”  It took him hours to recover; he had been shaken to his core.  Jim’s dream had come true, he’d met his hero, Mother Teresa, but much more importantly, under a bridge in Calcutta, in the middle of the darkest human suffering, he touched the Face of God.  Jim had been chosen and sent on a mission.

You have been chosen.  Everyone reading this letter has been chosen by Jesus.  Our spiritual life is not so much about searching for God as it is about surrendering to God, surrendering to this Divine loving act of being chosen.  You have been chosen.  In our Gospel Jesus says, “I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit.”  We’ve been chosen and then sent on a mission to bear fruit.  And the mission is always an expression of love.  Jim the Marine was chosen and sent on a mission to Calcutta where he loved in a way that was very hard. We have been chosen by Love to give love.

Now this love is not a feeling, this love is not a sentiment; this love is to will the good of the other.  This love is self-giving and self-sacrificing. It’s not selfish.   It is a love that forgets about self.  Think of Jesus on the cross.  And there are a million ways of doing that.  When you look at the saints every one of them is different, but the core of every single one of their missions is love.

My prayer for us today is that we continue to grow in loving with a forgetfulness of self, focusing on God and the other, focusing on our spouse, our children, our parents, our family, and our parish.  And in that forgetfulness of self may we touch the face of God in those we serve.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

History’s greatest leaders influence people from the outside in.  With their speech, their ideas, their example, and even their presence they move and motivate those around them, drawing others and stirring them to action.  Jesus, however, goes much deeper, influencing us also, but from the inside out.  He not only calls us from the outside, through the voice of the Church, the actions of Providence, and the example of his faithful disciples but he also unites himself to us so intimately, so inside of us, that his very life flows through our veins.

Our Lord says, “I am the vine, you are the branches,” and through the sacraments, the Eucharist especially, his divine life, his divine sap, flows through our veins.  Our Lord then goes on to say, “Remain in me and you will bear much fruit.”  This is First Communion weekend and I have a story of a man who through the power of the Eucharist remained in our Lord and as a result bore much fruit.

His name is Manuel Garcia born in Seville Spain in 1877.  His vocation to the priesthood came very early in life.  He entered the seminary when he was just 12 years old, and later on in life he would often say, “If I was born a thousand times; a thousand times I would be a priest.”  Manuel was an excellent student.  He excelled at his studies and was held in high regard by his teachers.  He went on to earn two doctorates.  He was ordained at the age of 24.

Manuel’s first assignment was to preach a mission in a small remote village.  As he made his way to this far away site on the back of a horse he dreamed of what the mission would be like.  The church would be packed with men, women, and children all eager to hear his learned preaching.  There would be standing room only at all the Masses he would celebrate.  Lines to the confessional would stretch out into the street and down the block.  Such were his dreams.  But when he got to town and found the church no one was there.  No crowd of children to welcome him as was the Spanish custom of the time.  He was all alone.  So he went inside.

The church was dark and dirty, the windows so grimy that very little light entered.  The murals on the walls were un-recognizable due to the flaking, and mildewy plaster.  Statues were cracked

and peeling and falling apart.  The pews were splintered and broken down.  Fr. Manuel made his way to the high altar.  It was no better.  The sanctuary lamp had leaked oil all over the floor.  The altar linen was torn, scorched and covered in wax.  And finally, the tabernacle was tarnished and covered in dust and cobwebs.

No one came to Fr. Manuel’s very first mission, no one heard him preach, no one received absolution, and no one received the Holy Eucharist.  Fr. Manuel would later write that as he kneeled in front of that neglected tabernacle and as depressing as that moment was, it was also a mystical moment of grace. He would later write, “My faith was looking at Jesus through the door of that tabernacle, so silent, so patient, so good, gazing right back at me…His gaze was telling me much and asking me for more.  It was a gaze in which all the sadness of the Gospels was reflected; the sadness of “No room in the Inn”; the sadness of those words, “Do you also want to leave Me?”; the sadness of poor Lazarus begging for crumbs from the rich man’s table; the sadness of the betrayal of Judas, the denial of Peter, of the soldier’s slap, and the abandonment of all.  All of this sadness was there in that tabernacle.”   Kneeling in front of that dusty tabernacle a vocation was born, a vocation within a vocation.  Then and there Fr. Manuel decided to dedicate himself to Eucharistic works, Eucharistic works in praise of Jesus Christ.  His personal motto became, “Here is Jesus! He is here! Do not abandon him!”

Fr. Manuel would go on to write many beautiful books about the Eucharist, and to found the Eucharistic Missionaries of Nazareth, the Children of Reparation, and the Disciples of Saint John, all groups dedicated to teaching and promoting Eucharistic adoration, and still going strong today.  Fr. Manuel would eventually become a Bishop.  He died in 1940; he had asked to be buried next to a Tabernacle saying, “So that my bones, after death, as my tongue and my pen in life, are saying to those who pass; “Here is Jesus!  He is here! Do not abandon Him!” This wish was carried out; he’s buried in the Cathedral of Palencia Spain, right below the tabernacle.  Fr. Manuel was canonized in 2016.  Much of his beautiful works remain to be translated from the original Spanish.

St Manuel made the Eucharist the center of his life and he became a saint.  When you look at the lives of all the saints there is this one common factor.  The Eucharist is always the center of their life.  And making the Eucharist the center of one’s own life is something that we can all do.   And it doesn’t have to be difficult.  And it doesn’t mean spending all of our time here in Church, not everyone is called to that way of life.  But for most of us, to make the Eucharist the center of our life, to make Jesus the center of our life, means receiving Communion regularly and worthily, going to confession regularly.  It means trying to get to Mass more than just on Sundays.  It means including Mass and Holy Communion on birthday and anniversary celebrations and other special occasions.  It means carving a few minutes out of our busy schedules to come and sit with our Lord, to drop by the Tabernacle, where Jesus is always waiting for us, our Divine Prisoner, keeping the gifts of his grace, ready just for us.

In our Gospel today Jesus repeats five times, “Remain in me.”  And to receive the Eucharist is the easiest way to do this.  But in doing this we have to know the person we are receiving.  We have to pay attention.  When I was first ordained I was told to celebrate each Mass as if it were my first Mass and at the very same time to celebrate it as if it were my last Mass.  In these two instances a priest pays attention to what is happening, he’s totally aware of what is happening and who is present and who is received.  We could say the same about Holy Communion.  Receive every Communion as if it were your First Holy Communion and at the very same time receive as if it were your last Holy Communion.  Know who you receive.  Never taking for granted the divine life, the divine sap that flows through our veins.  The Eucharist is life giving, without Him we wither.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today, Good Shepherd Sunday is also World Day of Prayer for Vocations.  This is usually understood as prayer for vocations to the priesthood or religious life, which we need to pray for every day.  But right now, however, I would like to broaden this prayer to include all Christian vocations.  I want us to pray that all children of God are able to realize and know their own vocation, because God has a plan for everyone.  There are two levels to each and everyone’s personal vocation.  And at the first level of our vocation, something that all baptized Christians are called to, is the vocation to holiness.  So whether you’re married, single, a professed religious, or a priest the very first vocation is holiness or we could also call it a vocation to love.  And this vocation to love permeates every aspect of our life.  The Second Vatican Council taught that we are called by God not by virtue of any of our good works but by his good design and grace.   We are justified in the Lord Jesus, and have been made the sons and daughters of God by our baptism and, by receiving God’s divine nature in the other sacraments.  These actions truly sanctify us.  With the right disposition the Sacraments truly sanctify us.  The Vatican II document ends with this sentence, “Therefore all the faithful are invited and obliged to holiness and the perfection of their own state of life.” 

This state of life that Vatican II speaks of is the second level of our vocation.  And this is marriage, the single life, or the religious life.  And it’s through one of these paths, whichever one God deems best for each of us, that we best achieve our sanctity.  Everyone in this church is called to be a Saint and with God’s generosity we can all become one.  St.  Gregory of Nyssa once said that Christian sanctity, or perfection has but one limit, and it’s that of having none.  We can always grow in sanctity.  On this World Day of Prayer for Vocations it’s important for us to remember that each and every one of us has an influence on the future of our Church.  So when a married couple remains joyful, faithful and loving, a seed is planted.  When a single person remains joyful, faithful and loving, a seed is planted.  And when a religious sister or brother or a priest remains joyful, faithful and loving, a seed is planted.  These seeds, planted within the hearts of our young people, grow to become the future vocations of sanctity for our church.

There always seems to be a sheep theme on Good Shepherd Sunday.  There’s a book that was printed a few years ago about shepherds and their sheep, the title is “A Shepherd looks at psalm 23.”  It’s by W. Phillip Keller.  He writes that it’s no accident that God has chosen to call us sheep.  The behavior of sheep and human beings is similar in many ways.  Our mob instincts, our fears and nervousness, our stubbornness and foolishness are all parallels of profound importance.

At the time of Jesus people knew all about sheep.  Sheep were everywhere.  So when the crowd listening to Jesus hears him say, “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me” they knew exactly what he was talking about.  That crowd knew that sheep without a shepherd are easily frightened, easily led astray.  Sheep without a shepherd don’t know where they’re going and they’re easy prey for predators.  But when Christ is our shepherd and we live within the sheepfold of His Church we’re not easily frightened, we’re not easily led astray, we know where we’re going and hopefully we’re not easy prey for the predators of sin.

A good shepherd knows his sheep; he knows when something is wrong.  He gives each lamb the individual attention he needs; each lamb is protected and guided.  Sometimes, however, the shepherd needs to use his crook, that big cane we see shepherds carry (Bishop Bradley has one too).  The shepherd uses his crook to pull back a straying lamb.  Christ uses that crook on us too when we’ve strayed only we know it as grace the grace that gets us back into his fold when we’ve strayed.  The grace that inspires us to go to the sacrament of reconciliation.

So, on this Good Shepherd Sunday I want to end with a couple things that we can learn from sheep.  First, sheep are mindful of their shepherd.  They keep an eye on him and his presence in the field can bring a sense of peace among the flock.  When sheep are nervous or anxious just having the shepherd walk through the field calms them.  The sight of their shepherd calms them.  And second, sheep know their shepherd’s voice and will come when he calls, even in the midst of other noises.  For us to be in the Flock of Christ means knowing his voice and paying attention to it.  We hear his voice in Sacred Scripture, the Tradition of our faith, in prayer, and we sometimes hear his voice in what other people say to us.  For us to be in the Flock of Christ also means keeping our eyes on him.  And we have that opportunity at every Mass, on the altar where He is made present, and in our tabernacle where He resides always.  His presence can bring us peace, go to him.

Let us become great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley