Author: Christine Jordan

Dear Friends,

In our first reading from the Book of Job we heard of these human conditions, drudgery, slavery, misery, troubled, restlessness, anxiety, hopelessness, and sorrow.  All these in a very short reading, a real downer, but I’m sure that most everyone can relate.  We’ve probably experienced each of these states; they are part of the human condition.  As we know our Lord experienced all things human, he experienced everything we have, but without sin.  In His true humanity he knows how it feels to be miserable, troubled, restless, anxious, and sorrowful.  But he did come to heal us of all that, to heal us of all that afflicts us.

In our gospel today, Peter’s mother-in-law is sick, and the disciples demonstrate the Christian response to troubles:  they immediately tell Jesus about it.  They go to Jesus.  When there’s trouble they go to Jesus.  That is their very first instinct, they don’t even know what he’s going to do, but they trust, they go to him first.  This is what a Christian disciple does.  St. Basil, a fourth century doctor of the Church wrote that a disciple is one whoever draws near to the Lord, to follow him, to hear him, to believe him, and to obey him, obeying him as Lord, and King, and Doctor, and Teacher of all truth.  Complete abandonment to Him.

Fr. Dolindo Ruotolo was such a disciple.  He understood the relationship between our neediness and God’s goodness.  Fr. Dolindo was an Italian priest who lived from 1881-1970.  Ordained at the age of 23, Don Dolindo spent his life in prayer, sacrifice and service. He heard confessions, gave spiritual guidance and cared for those in need. Fr. Dolindo was a contemporary of the more widely known saint, Padre Pio.  When some pilgrims from Naples, where Don Dolindo lived, went to Padre Pio in Pietrelcina, Padre Pio responded: “Why do you come here, if you have Don Dolindo in Naples? Go to him, he’s a saint!”

As scholars begin to study his many written works this simple priest is becoming most known for his spirituality of surrender. He was well aware of the depth of human weakness and neediness, and Fr. Dolindo saw this as a way of fostering continual union with God.  While inviting us to continually bring our worries and concerns to the Lord, Fr. Dolindo would teach that the focus doesn’t stay on our needs. Instead he would always encourage his people to bring their needs to God and to then be at peace, leaving God free to care for them in his own way and his own wisdom. Don Dolindo told his people that the Lord has promised to fully take on all the needs we entrust to him. In his own words:  a thousand prayers do not equal one act of abandonment; give yourself to Jesus, and don’t forget it.  Every malady we suffer is an opportunity for trusting in the love of Jesus.  Give it to God and let go.  And there is no better prayer than this he would say:  Jesus, I abandon myself to you.  Jesus, you take over.  Repeated over and over many times throughout the day.

Fr. Dolindo knew suffering, his body was crippled with arthritis, his legs were always covered in ulcers that were always becoming infected, and for the last ten years of his life he was completely paralyzed.  In each of these sufferings and every day of his life he too would pray:  Jesus you take over.  This always filled him with joy.

We know that Jesus is the Divine Doctor; the Divine Physician as we say, he healed the mother-in-law of a fever.  And like any good doctor he is attracted to a wound.  Have you ever noticed how doctors will sometimes talk about different cases they may have seen.  And they will sometimes talk about the wounds they have seen, in great gory detail sometimes, they are attracted to them because they want to heal them.  In the same way our Divine Doctor wants to heal our wounds, he’s attracted to them.  He wants to heal us; sometimes physically, but he also wants to heal us of our spiritual wounds of drudgery, slavery to sin, misery, troubledness, restlessness, anxiety, hopelessness, and sorrow,  all the things of Job.  He wants to heal.  God is not attracted to our gifts, and virtues, but rather to our weakness, brokenness, and sin.  This is the very definition of Mercy.  He wants to heal.

God loves like a doctor, he loves like a doctor loves a wound, and we are wounded.  And God rushes to our wounds.  Every time we make the sign of the cross He rushes to our wounds.  So as his disciples, go to Him, let Him minister to the wound, abandoning everything to Him saying, Jesus you take over, Jesus you take over, Jesus you take over.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

As we read in today’s Gospel, the people in the synagogue were astonished.  They were astonished because Jesus speaks to them as one having authority.  He doesn’t repeat the words of an Old Testament prophet and he doesn’t refer to an older respected teacher.  This poor carpenter out of Nazareth claims his own authority.  Sometimes this word authority is translated as the word power.  He speaks as one having power.  And the original word from which we translate into either authority or power is dynamis.  Our Lord speaks with dynamis.  This is where the word dynamite comes from.  So maybe we could even say our Lord speaks with the power of dynamite, it’s no wonder the people sitting in that synagogue were astonished.  His words shook them out of their complacency.

Now as we read further, there was a man possessed by an unclean spirit but with just five words our Lord exorcises the unclean spirit and the man is freed.  “Quiet! Come out of him!”  His words have the power to exorcise.  There was an exorcist in Rome by the name of Fr. Amorth and he’d successfully conducted hundreds of exorcisms.  But even with this experience of success he will always tell people, “One well done confession is more powerful than ten exorcisms!”  An exorcism is a sacramental while confession is a sacrament, a sacrament where our Lord’s voice speaks to us.  You may hear the sound of a priest saying the words of absolution but it’s our Lord, with the power of dynamite, who’s speaking to you.

Once in a letter to a missionary priest, St. Therese of Lisieux wrote about the sacrament of confession.  And she used the example of two small guilty boys.  So in this story the father comes home to find that his two sons have been disobedient.  They’ve caused some sort of ruckus in the home.  They’ve been fighting, they’ve been destructive, they’ve done something, and both sons in their heart of hearts know that they probably deserve punishment.  We’ve all been there.  Now the first son, as soon as he sees his father, runs in the opposite direction trying to get as far away as possible from his father.  This first son is filled with fear and trembling.

Now the second son is much more crafty, but crafty in the right way.  This second son throws himself into his father’s arms telling him that he is sorry to have hurt him, that he loves him, and that he will prove it by being good from now on.  And for punishment he only asks for a kiss.  Of course the son’s love has to be genuine, with a real desire to behave better. And the father is wise he knows that his son will fall into the same faults again and again and again, but he’s ready to forgive him every time, if his son catches him by the heart, he forgives.  We too should catch our heavenly Father by the heart, and we do that just by contritely entering the door to the confessional.  We capture our Father’s heart, drawing down his forgiveness and grace.

Confession when it’s done well, properly and with the right attitude of repentance is a privileged means for helping us to rediscover God’s real face, his infinite love, his forgiveness, his generosity, and his unbelievable patience towards us.  Entering that door we capture our Father’s heart.  Telling him in repentance that I have truly sinned, telling him my heart was hard, telling him I was proud and I despised my neighbor, telling him I sought my own pleasure at other people’s expense, and telling him I forgot all about You, the one I should love most of all.  When we do this we capture our Father’s heart and he forgives; punishing us only with a divine kiss, with a new outpouring of his love.  Each confession is a little Pentecost, an outpouring of the Holy Spirit, a kiss of the Divine.

Now some critics of St. Therese would say that her great trust in God’s forgiveness was because she had hardly committed any sins.  But she responded saying, even if I had committed every sin possible I would still have that same trust.  All that multitude of sin would only be like a drop of water falling into a blazing furnace.  I trust in God not in myself.

Our Lord still speaks to us with the power of dynamite.  We hear him in Scripture, we hear him during the consecration, and we hear him in all the sacraments.  In the sacrament of confession it may sound like me but it’s His voice saying to you those sweet powerful words, “I absolve you from your sins.” 

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

From a conference by Saint Thomas Aquinas, priest
The cross exemplifies every virtue

Why did the Son of God have to suffer for us? There was a great need, and it can be considered in a twofold way: in the first place, as a remedy for sin, and secondly, as an example of how to act.

It is a remedy, for, in the face of all the evils which we incur on account of our sins, we have found relief through the passion of Christ. Yet, it is no less an example, for the passion of Christ completely suffices to fashion our lives. Whoever wishes to live perfectly should do nothing but disdain what Christ disdained on the cross and desire what he desired, for the cross exemplifies every virtue.

If you seek the example of love: Greater love than this no man has, than to lay down his life for his friends. Such a man was Christ on the cross. And if he gave his life for us, then it should not be difficult to bear whatever hardships arise for his sake.

If you seek patience, you will find no better example than the cross. Great patience occurs in two ways: either when one patiently suffers much, or when one suffers things which one is able to avoid and yet does not avoid. Christ endured much on the cross, and did so patiently, because when he suffered he did not threaten; he was led like a sheep to the slaughter and he did not open his mouth. Therefore Christ’s patience on the cross was great. In patience let us run for the prize set before us, looking upon Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith who, for the joy set before him, bore his cross and despised the shame.

If you seek an example of humility, look upon the crucified one, for God wished to be judged by Pontius Pilate and to die.

If you seek an example of obedience, follow him who became obedient to the Father even unto death. For just as by the disobedience of one man, namely, Adam, many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one man, many were made righteous.

If you seek an example of despising earthly things, follow him who is the King of kings and the Lord of lords, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Upon the cross he was stripped, mocked, spat upon, struck, crowned with thorns, and given only vinegar and gall to drink.

Do not be attached, therefore, to clothing and riches, because they divided my garments among themselves. Nor to honors, for he experienced harsh words and scourgings. Nor to greatness of rank, for weaving a crown of thorns they placed it on my head. Nor to anything delightful, for in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.

Question:  Can a person who is dying receive the Precious Blood?

The quick answer is yes, but let me first quote a few paragraphs from the Catechism. Like all the sacraments the Anointing of the Sick is a liturgical and communal celebration, whether it takes place in the family home, a hospital or church, for a single sick person or a whole group of sick persons. It is very fitting to celebrate it within the Eucharist, the memorial of the Lord’s Passover. If circumstances suggest it, the celebration of the sacrament can be preceded by the sacrament of Penance and followed by the sacrament of the Eucharist. As the sacrament of Christ’s Passover the Eucharist should always be the last sacrament of the earthly journey, the “viaticum” for “passing over” to eternal life (1517). And,

In addition to the Anointing of the Sick, the Church offers those who are about to leave this life the Eucharist as viaticum. Communion in the body and blood of Christ, received at this moment of “passing over” to the Father, has a particular significance and importance. It is the seed of eternal life and the power of resurrection, according to the words of the Lord: “He who eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up at the last day.” The sacrament of Christ once dead and now risen, the Eucharist is here the sacrament of passing over from death to life, from this world to the Father (1524).  And,

Thus, just as the sacraments of Baptism, Confirmation, and the Eucharist form a unity called “the sacraments of Christian initiation,” so too it can be said that Penance, the Anointing of the Sick and the Eucharist as viaticum constitute at the end of Christian life “the sacraments that prepare for our heavenly homeland” or the sacraments that complete the earthly pilgrimage (1525).

The very last Eucharist a person receives before death is many times called food for the journey, the journey home to Heaven.  There are circumstances, however, where it is very difficult for a person to receive the Sacred Host; in those instances the person may receive a drop of the Precious Blood within the mouth.  The Eucharist is never to be placed within a feeding tube.  But for a person to receive the Precious Blood the priest needs to be made aware of the impending death.  He needs to know so that he can make special arrangements at Mass for special storage of the Precious Blood.

So if you are aware of someone who is close to death and they are not able to receive the Sacred Host please get in contact with me and we can determine if receiving the Precious Blood is an option for the dying person.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In our first reading we heard that Samuel was sleeping in the temple and today I have a story about a man who also slept while the Lord called to him, in fact spiritually speaking he slept most of his life.  His name was Andreas Wouters he was a Dutchman living in 16^th century Holland during the Protestant Reformation.  Andreas was a priest, but he wasn’t a very good priest.  He caused a great deal of scandal.  He was a drunkard and a prolific womanizer, fathering many children.  Not a good role model.  Needless to say the Bishop suspended him from actively serving as a priest.  He lived in disgrace.

At that time, June of 1572, Andreas was living in a sea side town by the name of Gorkum.  And during that month a band of Dutch pirates captured the town.  They had no love for the Catholic Church and so they rounded up all the priests, they captured 18.  The pirates had plans of torturing and killing them.  The pirates ignored Andreas and given his history he should have run as far away as possible.  But he didn’t, he woke up, he woke up to the call of the Holy Spirit.  He went to his brother priests where they were being held and he volunteered to join them.  The pirates were amazed; they took him in and put him with the other priests.

The 19 priests were tortured and subjected to every type of humiliation and mockery, especially Andreas who was constantly reminded of what a disgrace he was.  At the very end all the priests were given a choice, they could save themselves if they would renounce their belief in Papal Supremacy and the Eucharistic Real Presence.  All of them refused.  So on July 9, 1572 all 19 priests were hanged.  Andreas was saved for last and as the noose was being fastened around his neck, his captors kept mocking him.  They mocked him to the very end.  His last words before entering into eternity were, “Fornicator I always was, but heretic I never was!”  The martyrs of Gorkum were canonized by Pope Pius IX in 1865.  St. Andreas Wouters woke up and gave great witness and glory to God.

Now as we heard in the 1^st reading Samuel was asleep in the Temple, and to read this in the spiritual sense this is a sign of trouble.  To be asleep in the presence of the Lord is never a good thing.  Think of the 3 disciples who slept in the garden while our Lord prayed.  He asked them, “Could you not stay awake for even one hour?”

Now at the time of our first reading Eli was the chief priest of the Temple in Shilo, this was before the time of the Temple in Jerusalem, it hadn’t been built yet.  In this Shilo Temple the Ark of the Covenant was housed.  Eli was not the best of priests, he was lazy, unfocused, and a bad supervisor of his sons Phineas and Hoffney who were also bad priests.  Eli was indifferent to what his corrupt sons were doing.  His sons abused the priesthood taking advantage of the people in their care.  And it’s in this atmosphere that Samuel sleeps.  And so the Lord called to Samuel 4 times and at that last call Samuel finally says “Speak Lord for your servant is listening.”  His eyes were wide open; he’s awake to the ways of the Lord.  Meaning he was ready to do the will of God. And he did, serving as a prophet to the people of Israel.

So what about us?  Where are we asleep to the Lord’s presence, a presence that calls to us.  Where do we not recognize his presence?  Because he is there!  Is it a temptation that we just can’t seem to overcome, an addiction, a place of shame, or maybe it’s a relationship we just can’t seem to mend, a loss, any suffering we don’t bring to him, or maybe we just don’t think God is there for us.  Spiritual theologians will sometimes say that these are our places of poverty.  And it’s in these places exactly that our Lord calls to us, because he knows we can’t do it on our own.  He meets us in our poverty.  And so we pray to be open to hearing our Lord in these places of poverty.  But it sometimes requires patience on our part and making time for quiet prayer every day.  God overcame the barriers of Samuel and St. Andreas.  He can overcome ours.  The saints, the martyrs, Samuel and St. Andreas came to know that God is always with them.

Let us pray to have that same awareness, to be awake to this reality.  Our Lord meets us in the poverty of the crib, the poverty of the cross, the poverty of the altar, and our own poverty.   And in all these places he brings the riches of His healing and consoling Grace, let us be humble enough to receive.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

St. Peter Claver a Spanish Jesuit of the 16^th century took very seriously the words of our Lord at the end of St. Matthew’s Gospel.  At the end of that Gospel Jesus 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.”  As a student at the University of Barcelona, Claver was noted for his intelligence and piety, after two years of study he wrote in his notebook, “I must dedicate myself to the service of God until death, on the understanding that I am like a slave.”

Claver joined the Jesuits and they sent him to the port city of Cartagena in Columbia.  It was in that city that he completed his studies for the priesthood.  Living in that city he observed and was greatly disturbed by the harsh treatment and living conditions of the slaves who were brought from Africa.    Cartagena was the slave-trading hub and 10,000 slaves came into the port every year.  While in seminary Claver learned all he could about the languages and customs of the slaves who entered that port city.  At his solemn profession St. Peter Claver signed his document with these words, “Peter Claver, servant of the Ethiopians forever.”  With his ordination Peter Claver began his work with the slaves.

When the slaves disembarked, they were unwashed, starving, and covered in sores.  And so Peter met them with medicine, soap, disinfectants, food, bread, brandy, lemons, and tobacco.  And with the help of interpreters and pictures he also gave basic instruction in the faith.  And in the off season he would visit the slaves at the plantations, going from village to village, giving them more instruction and spiritual consolation. One of the simple prayers he taught to the slaves was this; and this one makes me smile, “Jesus, I love you very much, much, much.”   During his 40 years of ministry it is estimated that St. Peter Claver personally catechized and baptized 300,000 slaves. They called him a man filled full of God.

The word baptism comes from a Greek word which means to immerse or plunge.  Baptism is a sacrament, which is an outward sign instituted by Christ that gives grace. Baptism is a sign that points to a reality beyond itself.  It’s a special sign that causes to happen what it signifies.  The outward sign is the body being washed, while at the same time the soul is cleansed and made whole.  And it is Jesus who works through the sign.  Jesus is the one who baptizes.  Even though I pour the water, Jesus is the one who baptizes; he’s the one who celebrates all the sacraments using me as his instrument.

So what can water do?  First, it destroys; think of the devastation caused by Tsunamis and Hurricanes.  St. Paul writes in Romans 6:3, “Or are you unaware that we who were baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?”  Baptism sacramentally connects us to the Cross.  Baptism destroys sin, both personal and original.  And second, water gives life.  Without water there is no life.   St. Paul when speaking of baptism says that a new life is poured out onto and into us.  The Holy Spirit begins to dwell in us, and we are reborn.

Baptism means we have access to an extraordinary power, a Divine Power.  We can change.  We are not stuck in our habits, and fears, and anxieties, and struggles.   Living the Christian life means I can change.  I can change because the One, who raised Jesus, lives in me.  If I surrender to him I can be different.

Baptism gives us a new identity.  You are a daughter of the King; you are a son of the King.  To know this with conviction changes everything.  Our God is not distant.  The prophet Isaiah writes, “Fear not to cry out, here is your God! Here comes with power the Lord God…like a shepherd he feeds his flock; in his arms he gathers the lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and leading the ewes with care.”  Our God is not distant.

St. Gregory of Nazianzus once said this about baptism, “Baptism is God’s most beautiful and magnificent gift… We call it gift, grace, anointing, enlightenment, garment of immortality, bath of rebirth, and most precious gift. It is called gift because it is conferred on those who bring nothing of their own; grace since it is given even to the guilty; Baptism because sin is buried in the water; anointing for it is priestly and royal as are those who are anointed; enlightenment because it radiates light; garment since it veils our shame; and bath because it washes.”

In today’s Gospel we heard God the Father say to Jesus, “You are my beloved.”  Every baptized person should know and hear these words, every person made a member of the mystical body of Christ should hear these words, “You are my beloved, my beloved son, my beloved daughter.”  So the next time you come into St. Joseph’s and dip your fingers into the Holy Water, remember these words, “You are my beloved.”  As you make the sign of the Cross repeating the words of your own baptism, In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, remember the words of God our Father, “You are my beloved.”  “You are my beloved.”  To which we might respond, “I love you very much, much, much!”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

The Magi are blessed with the profound experience of gazing upon the new born King of Israel. What an awesome encounter this must have been, to see the Lord of the entire universe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. Few people in history have been graced with such a moment. And because of the depth of their experience, the Magi simply cannot be the same afterward; the reality of the moment was too great! So, instead of following their original plan and returning to Herod, scripture says they departed for their country by another way. This physical change in direction expresses a deeper spiritual experience. They cannot be the same as they were after encountering Christ. The truth is too great! The Magi encounter Christ in worship, they see him with their own eyes, and they leave the experience, physically and spiritually, in a different manner than when they arrived. They are changed.

I have a story about a man who like the Magi, for many years was only able to look upon our Lord, but it made all the difference in his life. For years, Mark Ji Tianxiang, known to everyone as Ji, was a respectable Christian, raised in a Christian family in 19th-century China. He was a leader in the Christian community, a well-off doctor who served the poor for free. But after many years of practicing medicine he became very sick with a violent stomach ailment and so he treated himself with opium. Back then in the 19th century it was a perfectly reasonable thing to do, but Ji soon became addicted to the drug, an addiction that was considered shameful and gravely scandalous.
As his circumstances deteriorated, Ji continued to fight his addiction. He went frequently to confession, refusing to embrace this affliction that had taken control of him. Unfortunately, the priest to whom he confessed (along with nearly everybody in the 19th century) didn’t understand addiction as a disease. Since Ji kept confessing the same sin, the priest wrongly thought, that he wasn’t even trying and that Ji had no desire to do better.

After a few years of this, Ji’s priest told him to stop coming back for confession, and to stop receiving the Eucharist, to stop until he was serious about quitting the opium. They just had no understanding about addictions in the 19th century. Ji just could not quit. For some, this might have been an invitation to leave the Church in anger or shame, but for all his fallenness, Ji knew himself to be loved by the Father and by the Church. He knew that the Lord wanted his heart, even if he couldn’t manage to give over his life. Instead of receiving the Eucharist using the sense of taste, he received instead using the sense of sight. And how he would stare at the Blessed Sacrament held aloft over the priest’s head at the time of the elevation, taking our Lord in through his eyes, receiving Him through the sense of sight, just like the Magi. He couldn’t stay sober, but he could keep showing up, showing up to adore our Lord in the Eucharist.

And show up he did, for 30 years. For 30 years, he was unable to receive the sacraments. God’s grace is not limited to the sacraments, the Mass made all the difference in his life. The adoration of the Eucharist made all the difference in his life.
In 1900, when the Boxer Rebels began to turn against foreigners and Christians, Ji was rounded up with dozens of other Christians, including his son, six grandchildren, and two daughters-in-law. Many of those imprisoned with him were likely disgusted by his presence there among them, this man who couldn’t go a day without a hit. Surely he would be the first to deny the Lord.

But while Ji was never able to beat his addiction, he was, in the end, flooded with the grace of final perseverance. No threat could shake him, no torture could make him waver. He was determined to follow the Lord who had never abandoned him.
As Ji and his family were dragged to prison to await their execution, his grandson looked fearfully at him. “Grandpa, where are we going?” he asked. “We’re going home,” came the answer.

Ji begged his captors to kill him last so that none of his family would have to die alone. He stood beside all nine of them as they were beheaded. In the end, he went to his death singing the Litany of the Blessed Virgin Mary. And though he had been away from the sacraments for decades, he is today a canonized saint. St. Mark Ji Tianxiang

Friends, does our experience of Sunday worship, of Catholic life, or of our parish communities change our heart or mind? The Magi worshiped Jesus in a crib, and they went away different. St. Mark Ji Tianxiang worshipped Jesus in the Eucharist Sunday after Sunday, and he too went away different. He struggled mightily, in ways we’ll probably never know, but he never left our Lord or His Church. Today we worship Jesus truly present on the altar, in the tabernacle, and within our hearts in the Eucharist each Sunday; do we come away from this experience different, with a change of mind and heart? This Epiphany, we ask that our encounter with the Lord may lead to an ever greater change of mind and heart within ourselves. Whether they know it or not our friends, neighbors, and family members are counting on the light that our experience of Christ has brought us, to bring that light into their lives! Pray for the grace to be a fervent light of Christ.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

From a sermon by Saint Leo the Great, Pope

Christian, remember your dignity

Dearly beloved, today our Savior is born; let us rejoice. Sadness should have no place on the birthday of life. The fear of death has been swallowed up; life brings us joy with the promise of eternal happiness.

No one is shut out from this joy; all share the same reason for rejoicing. Our Lord, victor over sin and death, finding no man free from sin, came to free us all. Let the saint rejoice as he sees the palm of victory at hand. Let the sinner be glad as he receives the offer of forgiveness. Let the pagan take courage as he is summoned to life.

In the fullness of time, chosen in the unfathomable depths of God’s wisdom, the Son of God took for himself our common humanity in order to reconcile it with its creator. He came to overthrow the devil, the origin of death, in that very nature by which he had overthrown mankind.

And so at the birth of our Lord the angels sing in joy: Glory to God in the highest, and they proclaim peace to men of good will as they see the heavenly Jerusalem being built from all the nations of the world. When the angels on high are so exultant at this marvelous work of God’s goodness, what joy should it not bring to the lowly hearts of men?

Beloved, let us give thanks to God the Father, through his Son, in the Holy Spirit, because in his great love for us he took pity on us, and when we were dead in our sins he brought us to life with Christ, so that in him we might be a new creation. Let us throw off our old nature and all its ways and, as we have come to birth in Christ, let us renounce the works of the flesh.

Christian, remember your dignity, and now that you share in God’s own nature, do not return by sin to your former base condition. Bear in mind who is your head and of whose body you are a member. Do not forget that you have been rescued from the power of darkness and brought into the light of God’s kingdom.

Through the sacrament of baptism you have become a temple of the Holy Spirit. Do not drive away so great a guest by evil conduct and become again a slave to the devil, for your liberty was bought by the blood of Christ.

Dear Friends,

Edna Costello was one of those irreplaceable women who seem to appear in every parish.  She was the most active member of the altar society, the parish council, the Bible study, marriage preparation classes, and the right to life group.  You could find her in church every morning, a half-hour before Mass.  She would still be there for another hour after the Mass was over:  making her thanksgiving, tidying up the pews, praying her Rosary, arranging flowers, and making the Stations of the Cross.

During the day Edna did good deeds.  If anyone in the parish was seriously ill, she would know about it within a matter of hours, and send flowers or visit the hospital room.  She would bring meals to shut-ins and place phone calls to lonely widows.  On a few occasions she even tactfully asked some of the wealthier members of the parish if they could spare a few dollars for a family that had fallen behind on the mortgage payments.

Then in the evenings, more often than not she would be back at church again, this time for a meeting of one of the many parish organizations that she dominated.

Now if this description makes you think that Edna was saint, you should realize that many – even most – of the parishioners found her insufferable.  And she certainly did have her faults.  She could be a bit of a busybody.  She was better at talking than listening.  She was definitely pushy.  But no one would ever deny that Edna Costello tried her best to be a good Catholic.  And because she was such a serious, active Catholic, many people followed her lead.

Take Tom Brown for example.  The Brown family lived just a few doors down from the little house where Edna lived after her husband’s death.  When he was just twelve years old, Tom became intrigued by the sight of a little woman who marched past his front window every morning at 6:15, in rain or shine.  “If she can go to Mass every day,” he asked himself, “why can’t I?”  Soon he too was a fixture at the morning Mass and Tom was not alone.  For every jaded neighbor who laughed to himself when Edna began passing out holy cards, there was another more sensitive soul who would take the card, and begin to develop a habit of prayer.

Years passed and age took its toll, Edna moved to a smaller home in another town.  Within a matter of months she had become the backbone of a different parish.  For years she carried out all the same functions in a new location.

Then at last, just before she reached the age of ninety, Edna was diagnosed with cancer.  She learned of the illness during Holy Week, and thought that was appropriate.  She continued her usual activities for as long as she could; doing the best she could to ignore her fatigue and pain.  But on the day after Christmas she collapsed in church, and was rushed to the hospital.

The doctors were able to revive her, and for two days her conditions steadily improved.  But on the third morning she took a sudden turn for the worse, and the doctors realized that she had only a matter of hours to live.  At Edna’s insistence, the nurses began to look for a priest.

But there was a complication.  A huge blizzard had hit the town that morning, and traffic was paralyzed.  The local pastor had rushed out early in the morning, hoping to get a few last-minute errands done before the snow arrived; he miscalculated, however, and was now stuck in a snow bank several miles away, unlikely to return before nightfall.  No other priest lived close enough to the hospital to make through the snow on time.

Edna was drifting in and out of consciousness, but when she was awake she was lucid.  She was hounding the staff:  “Have you found a priest for me yet?”

Fortunately, someone remembered hearing that a young priest was spending his vacation at his sister’s home just a few blocks from the hospital.  The nurses tracked him down, and the young priest quickly agreed to come bring the sacraments to a dying woman.

When he entered the room, the priest saw a tiny gray haired woman asleep in her bed.  He thought he would awaken her gently by whispering her name.  But when he saw the name listed on the chart at the foot of her bed, he blurted it out loud:  “Edna Costello!”

Edna opened her eyes wheezing as she said, “Oh, Father, thank God you’re here!”  “Thank God you’re here,” said Father Tom Brown.  “You’re the reason I’m a priest!”

Now I’ve told this vocation story because I think today’s Gospel is also a vocation story, Mary’s vocation.  Mary’s life was turned upside down, God was asking something of her that she never would have expected and this greatly troubled her.  Mary’s heart experienced fear.  All of us whether married, single, priest or religious sister may at one time or another experience fear.  Was Edna ever fearful during her marriage?  Was she fearful when there were struggles or arguments or misunderstandings?  Was Edna fearful when her husband died making her a widow?  Was Edna fearful as she neared death?  Did fear ever arise as Tom first discerned the priesthood, did fear arise in the Seminary, and did fear ever arise in the parish?   Do we have fears about the life we are called to live in our Christian vocations of marriage, single life, priesthood, or religious?

God doesn’t reveal himself through fear, pressure, or confusion.  This is where the spirit against Christ reveals himself.  The spirit against Christ makes us afraid, not God.  This spirit against Christ uses fear, pressure, and confusion to draw us away from following God.  This spirit against Christ can come from us, the world, or the evil one.  But the constant message of God is not to be afraid.  We hear this message of “Be not afraid” 21 times in the gospels.  The Angel Gabriel Immediately tells Mary “Be not afraid” letting her know that fear is not from God.  Pope St. John Paul II also said the very same thing knowing fear is the tactic used by the spirit against Christ to discourage a person from doing the will of God.

God has plans for each of us.  These plans may call for great changes in our lives, just as they did for Mary.  God our Father wants to grace us so that we can do great things for him.  But we’ll see these great things happen only to the extent that we listen to him and keep our hearts set on him.  If we let ourselves get distracted, we risk missing what he wants us to do.  But when we let Jesus live in our hearts, we will find ourselves doing his will.  Our Lord tells us through the prophet Jeremiah, “I know well the plans I have in mind for you…plans for your welfare, not for woe!  Plans to give you a future full of hope.”  God’s plans for us are better than what we could come up with on our own.  If we want to know the blessings of God’s plans we have to be open to them.

Mary was troubled at the message of the Angel but she responded to the grace to trust. She knew that God was good.   She knew God was loving and that God would never abandon her. With these truths she reasoned that she could accept God’s plan and believe that he would provide for her.   May we do the same.

Let us never be afraid to live out our vocation to its fullest.  Who knows how God will use us to inspire another person to their own vocation.  People are watching us so let us, like Mary, be willing to bear Christ wherever we go.  Let each of us say to our Lord, “May it be done to me according to your word.”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In the Gospel today, St. John the Baptist says to us, “There stands among you, one unknown to you, the one who is coming after me.”  Now there is a story of a monastery that existed centuries ago.  And in that community things were not going so well.  The monks argued all the time.  The prayers had become sloppy, the chant was hit-and-miss.  Many times they were off key and they didn’t care.  Young men were no longer joining the community; those who entered didn’t stay.  The place was a mess, the gardens were overgrown, the monks lost all pride in their place.  People even stopped visiting, why would anyone want to travel to such a pitiful place?  Father Abbot looked on and watched as his abbey died.  He had to do something, he thought.  He then remembered that miles away on the other side of the mountain, there was a hermit known for his holiness and good spiritual advice.  Father Abbot decided he would go and see him.  So he got on his mule and off he went.

When he got to the hermit’s house, the holy man welcomed him.  He asked how things were, and the Abbot told him the whole tragic story of his once flourishing monastery.  The hermit listened intently as the Abbot spoke all night.  When he had finished his sad story, the hermit looked directly at him and said, “Father Abbot, I am about to tell you something, and you must listen, because I’m only going to say it once.  You are not to ask me any questions, and in the same way, you are to tell your monks this very same message.  Do you understand?”  The Abbot said yes he understood,, and so the holy hermit said to the Abbot in a very loud voice, “Dear Father, Christ is living in your Abbey!” The Abbot looked at him with a puzzled look but remembering his agreement, nodded and remained silent.  All the way home he kept thinking “Christ is living in my Abbey.”

The next day he returned home and called the monks together.  “Brothers, he said, the holy hermit has given me a word for all of you.  I will only say it once, and I will not repeat it, and you may not question me.”  The monks waited as the Abbot gathered his thoughts, and the Abbot said to them in a loud and steady voice, “Christ is living in our Abbey.”  The monks looked at one another wondering; what does that mean? Does it mean Christ is living here? Did he actually mean living here, living here like one of us? And they looked at each other, wondering which one was the Lord.

Later, they were in choir, and the choirmaster said to himself, “If he is here, we better sing as best as we can.”  The chant got better.  The brother in charge of the kitchen said to himself, “If he’s here, I better make sure he gets the best food.” The meals were prepared with great care and attention.  The monk in charge of the housekeeping said, “If he is here, we better tidy the place up!”  He had the broken windows fixed; the cloister was cleaned and painted.  The brother in charge of the farm put the fields in order, and had the gates and fences repaired.  Monks who hadn’t been on friendly terms came to agreement and reconciled, just in case their opponent was the Special Guest.

Bit by bit, the monastery changed as each monk served each other, as if he were the Lord, just in case.  Soon their care became genuine affection and love.  They helped each other, they sang beautifully, and they prayed with such intensity that news of the change spread throughout the country.  People came back to visit.  Young men were attracted to join the community, and the monastery began to flourish.

On the third Sunday of Advent many parishes will bless the bambinelli, the baby Jesus’ of our nativities, and in part of that blessing we hear, “We pray that, with your blessing, these images of Jesus might be a sign of your presence and love in our homes…open our hearts, that we might receive Jesus in joy, do always what he asks of us and see him in those who need our love.”  In every moment of our lives, Christ presents himself to us, maybe as a friend maybe as a stranger.  In our work, we meet him, in school or in college, we meet him, in the factory, and in the store, we meet him. As we heard in the Gospel, “There stands among you, one unknown to you, the one who is coming after me.”  This advent, we pray that the Lord will open our minds and our hearts, so, that like the monks, we will make our lives and world a place where Christ is welcome.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

A voice of one crying in the wilderness

The voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way of the Lord, make straight the paths of our God. The prophecy makes clear that it is to be fulfilled, not in Jerusalem but in the wilderness: it is there that the glory of the Lord is to appear, and God’s salvation is to be made known to all mankind.

It was in the wilderness that God’s saving presence was proclaimed by John the Baptist, and there that God’s salvation was seen. The words of this prophecy were fulfilled when Christ and his glory were made manifest to all: after his baptism the heavens opened, and the Holy Spirit in the form of a dove rested on him, and the Father’s voice was heard, bearing witness to the Son: This is my beloved Son, listen to him.

The prophecy meant that God was to come to a deserted place, inaccessible from the beginning. None of the pagans had any knowledge of God, since his holy servants and prophets were kept from approaching them. The voice commands that a way be prepared for the Word of God: the rough and trackless ground is to be made level, so that our God may find a highway when he comes. Prepare the way of the Lord: the way is the preaching of the Gospel, the new message of consolation, ready to bring to all mankind the knowledge of God’s saving power.

Climb on a high mountain, bearer of good news to Zion. Lift up your voice in strength, bearer of good news to Jerusalem. These words harmonize very well with the meaning of what has gone before. They refer opportunely to the evangelists and proclaim the coming of God to men, after speaking of the voice crying in the wilderness. Mention of the evangelists suitably follows the prophecy on John the Baptist.

What does Zion mean if not the city previously called Jerusalem? This is the mountain referred to in that passage from Scripture: Here is mount Zion, where you dwelt. The Apostle says: You have come to mount Zion. Does not this refer to the company of the apostles, chosen from the former people of the circumcision?

This is the Zion, the Jerusalem, that received God’s salvation. It stands aloft on the mountain of God, that is, it is raised high on the only-begotten Word of God. It is commanded to climb the high mountain and announce the word of salvation. Who is the bearer of the good news but the company of the evangelists? What does it mean to bear the good news but to preach to all nations, but first of all to the cities of Judah, the coming of Christ on earth?