Author: Christine Jordan

From a homily on the Gospels by:

Saint Gregory the Great, pope

 Christ the Good Shepherd

I am the good shepherd. I know my own – by which I mean, I love them – and my own know me. In plain words: those who love me are willing to follow me, for anyone who does not love the truth has not yet come to know it.

My dear brethren, you have heard the test we pastors have to undergo. Turn now to consider how these words of our Lord imply a test for yourselves also. Ask yourselves whether you belong to his flock, whether you know him, whether the light of his truth shines in your minds. I assure you that it is not by faith that you will come to know him, but by love; not by mere conviction, but by action. John the evangelist is my authority for this statement. He tells us that anyone who claims to know God without keeping his commandments is a liar.

Consequently, the Lord immediately adds: As the Father knows me and I know the Father; and I lay down my life for my sheep. Clearly he means that laying down his life for his sheep gives evidence of his knowledge of the Father and the Father’s knowledge of him. In other words, by the love with which he dies for his sheep he shows how greatly he loves his Father.

Again he says: My sheep hear my voice, and I know them; they follow me, and I give them eternal life. Shortly before this he had declared: If anyone enters the sheepfold through me he shall be saved; he shall go freely in and out and shall find good pasture. He will enter into a life of faith; from faith he will go out to vision, from belief to contemplation, and will graze in the good pastures of everlasting life.

So our Lord’s sheep will finally reach their grazing ground where all who follow him in simplicity of heart will feed on the green pastures of eternity. These pastures are the spiritual joys of heaven. There the elect look upon the face of God with unclouded vision and feast at the banquet of life for ever more.

Beloved brothers, let us set out for these pastures where we shall keep joyful festival with so many of our fellow citizens. May the thought of their happiness urge us on! Let us stir up our hearts, rekindle our faith, and long eagerly for what heaven has in store for us. To love thus is to be already on our way. No matter what obstacles we encounter, we must not allow them to turn us aside from the joy of that heavenly feast. Anyone who is determined to reach his destination is not deterred by the roughness of the road that leads to it. Nor must we allow the charm of success to seduce us, or we shall be like a foolish traveller who is so distracted by the pleasant meadows through which he is passing that he forgets where he is going.

Dear Friends,

A few years ago I went on a pilgrimage to Rome.  I went with a group of priests from my seminary and we went for the canonizations of Popes John XXIII and John Paul II.  My seminary was named for Pope John XXIII.  I was able to celebrate Mass in some very beautiful Churches including St. Peter’s Basilica.  As for the canonizations I didn’t get as close as I wanted.  The crowds of mostly young people were in the way, and we were edged out.  Only Bishop Uglietto who travelled with us and two of the priest faculty at my seminary were able to concelebrate Mass. We had to watch the Mass from a screen, still an awesome experience.

Now we began our Pilgrimage in Assisi and we started by visiting St. Clare’s Monastery of the Poor Clares, founded way back in the 13^th century.  St. Clare was the first woman to write a rule of life for a religious community.  She was very adamant about being the one to write the rule, and the pope of the time eventually gave in and accepted her written rule.  This monastery was at the top of a hill that overlooked a valley of fields.  It was about a 90 degree angle walk, going up the hill to see the monastery.

In this monastery we were shown where St. Clare ate, and slept, and prayed.  Our tour guide also showed us a statue of Clare positioned on the edge of the hill.  It overlooked the valley below.  This statue showed St. Clare holding a monstrance.  As we know a monstrance is used to display the Eucharist during adoration.  Our tour guide went on to tell us why the citizens of Assisi had commissioned this statue.

In her 80’s towards the end of her life Clare was very sick and was confined to her cell, which she rarely left.  This time of the 13^th century was also a very dangerous time.  That region of Italy was at war with the Saracens.  The Saracens were looking for territory to conquer and to plunder.  The men of Assisi had left the town to fight.  Only women and children were left behind.  One of the Poor Clare Sisters who was keeping watch at the wall surrounding the monastery saw down in the valley a group of Saracens making their way up the hill.  The wall at that point was very low and easily scaled, it was an easy access into Assisi.  This sister was worried and scared about what would happen to them if the Saracens made it over their wall and entered the monastery.  She’d heard the rumors of what had happened to the other woman who had met the Saracens.  And so to Mother Clare she ran.

She found Clare sleeping on her mat of straw so she woke her up to tell her that they were about to be overrun by an army.  “Tell us what to do Mother Clare!” the nun yelled.  So St. Clare told her, “Go to the chapel and get the Eucharist, get the Blessed Sacrament.  Put Him in the monstrance and bring Him to me.” And so the sister did as she was told, and brought the monstrance back containing our Lord, the Blessed Sacrament.

So Clare held the monstrance and asked for two sisters to help her up and to take her to the top of the wall overlooking the valley. So there, on top of the wall she stood praying, praying full of confidence. Here was an 80 year old woman standing on top of a wall praying.   And as she prayed she held the monstrance as high as she could, pointing it towards the advancing army.  And what happened next has been noted in history books.  The advancing army stopped, turned away, and retreated.  We might ask ourselves, “What did they see when looking at an aged nun holding aloft the Blessed Sacrament?  What Divine power and strength did they recognize?  Did they see the power of Heaven?  The prayers of a Saint are a powerful thing, but even more powerful is the Eucharist.  When the priest elevates the Sacred Host that is our window into Heaven.  As we know the Mass joins Heaven and Earth, we all worship together.  We all look upon the same Sacred Host.  We see what looks to be bread, but in faith, we know that it is Jesus.  Those in Heaven look upon the same Host, but instead of what looks to be bread they see Jesus, they see Jesus offering Himself to the Father on our behalf.  The Mass makes present to us the one saving sacrifice of Jesus Christ.

From the gospel today the two disciples on the way to Emmaus at first didn’t recognize our Lord.  It was only in the breaking of the Bread that they really saw Him.  And after receiving the Eucharist they knew Him, their eyes were opened.  Thirteen centuries later on the plains of Assisi the Saracens saw something they didn’t fully understand, they experienced a power they didn’t understand and they retreated, running in the opposite direction.  They ran from the Eucharist.

My prayer for us today is that we are always doing the exact opposite of what the Saracens did, they ran from the Eucharist, let us, instead, run to the Eucharist, always running to that Divine power and strength, in moments of sorrow and anxiety but also in moments of joy and thanksgiving, always running with our eyes wide open always praying for the grace to recognize our Lord in every Holy Eucharist we receive.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

St. Vincent de Paul lived in 17^th c Paris France.  And sometimes in the afternoon he liked to take a walk to clear his head.  On one particular afternoon a crying woman ran up to him.  She was inconsolable.  In between the outbursts of tears and sobbing he was able to piece together what had happened.  Her husband, that morning, had jumped form a bridge into the river.  He had taken his own life.  The woman was broken with grief.  She feared the worst for her husband’s soul.  But in a moment of Heavenly grace, St. Vincent de Paul was given a bit of knowledge of what had happened that morning on the bridge.  He said, “Madam, do not be afraid, in that time and distance from the railing of the bridge to the water’s surface your husband repented, he is saved.”  Go and pray for him!

On this Divine Mercy Sunday we are reminded that our Lord is always reaching out to us.   Even in that millionth of a second between life and death, he still reaches out to us. In that short span of time, in that millionth of a second this is what the conversation may have sounded like:

From St. Faustina’s Diary, Jesus speaking with a despairing soul:

Jesus:  O soul steeped in darkness, do not despair.  All is not yet lost.  Come and confide in your God, who is love and mercy.

-But the soul, deaf even to this appeal, wraps itself in darkness.

Jesus calls out again:  My child, listen to the voice of your merciful Father.

-In the soul arises this reply:  “For me there is no mercy,” and it falls into greater darkness, a despair which is a foretaste of hell and makes it unable to draw near to God.

Jesus calls to the soul a third time, but the soul remains deaf and blind, hardened and despairing.  Then the mercy of God begins to exert itself, and without any co-operation from the soul, God grants it final grace.  If this too is spurned, God will leave the soul in this self-chosen disposition for eternity.  This grace emerges from the Merciful Heart of Jesus and gives the soul a special light by means of which the soul begins to understand God’s effort; but conversion depends on its own will.  The soul knows that this, for him, is final grace and, should it show even a flicker of good will, the Mercy of God will accomplish the rest.

My omnipotent mercy is active here.  Happy the soul that takes advantage of this grace.

Jesus:  What joy fills My Heart when you return to me.  Because you are weak, I take you in My arms and carry you to the home of My Father.

Soul:  (as if awaking, asks fearfully): Is it possible that there yet is mercy for me?

Jesus:  There is, My child.  You have a special claim on My mercy.  Let it act in your poor soul; let the rays of grace enter your soul; they bring with them light, warmth, and life.

Soul:  But fear fills me at the thought of my sins, and this terrible fear moves me to doubt Your goodness.

Jesus:  My child, all your sins have not wounded My Heart as painfully as your present lack of trust does – that after so many efforts of My love and mercy, you should still doubt My goodness.

Soul:  O Lord, save me Yourself, for I perish.  Be my Savior, O Lord, I am unable to say anything more; my pitiful heart is torn asunder; but You, O Lord…

Jesus does not let the soul finish but, raising it from the ground from the depths of its misery; he leads it into the recesses of His Heart where all its sins disappear instantly, consumed by the flames of love.

Jesus:  Here, soul, are all the treasures of My Heart.  Take everything you need from it.

Soul:  O Lord, I am inundated with Your grace.  I sense that a new life has entered into me and, above all, I feel Your love in my heart.  That is enough for me.  O Lord, I will glorify the omnipotence of Your mercy for all eternity.  Encouraged by Your goodness, I will confide to You all the sorrows of my heart.

Jesus:  Tell me all, My child, hide nothing from Me, because My loving Heart, the Heart of your Best Friend, is listening to you.

Soul:  O Lord, now I see all my ingratitude and Your goodness.  You were pursuing me with Your grace, while I was frustrating Your benevolence, I see that I deserve the depths of hell for spurning Your graces, Jesus (interrupting):  Do not be absorbed in your misery – you are still too weak to speak of it – but, rather, gaze on My Heart filled with goodness, and be imbued with My sentiments.  Strive for meekness and humility; be merciful to others, as I am to you; and, when you feel your strength failing, if you come to the fountain of mercy to fortify your soul, you will not grow weary on your journey.

Soul:  Now I understand Your mercy, which protects me, and like a brilliant star, leads me into the home of my Father, protecting me from the horrors of hell that I have deserved, not once, but a thousand times.  O Lord, eternity will hardly suffice for me to give due praise to Your unfathomable mercy and Your compassion for me.

Give thanks to the Lord for He is good, His Mercy endures forever.

Happy Easter,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

There’s a book entitled, “On the Cosmic Mystery of Jesus Christ.”  It was written by St. Maximus the Confessor way back in the 6^th century.    It seems that St. Maximus had a very interesting mind because in this book there is a very curious Easter analogy.  Fishermen, I think will like this.   In this Easter analogy Maximus sees Satan as a great slimy fish; I picture a snake like eel.  Now this fish swims in the deep dark abyss of the sea.  He terrorizes the ocean bottom.  In this analogy St. Maximus sees Jesus as the bait on the end of a very sharp hook.  This hook attached to a line on a fishing rod is tossed into the deep.  Satan takes the bait and swallows and begins to dive down into the abyss of death.  He thinks he’s won; our Lord, within the tomb of this fish’s belly is in the abyss of death.  But God the Divine Fisherman has the last laugh.  He gives the line a fierce tug and the hook bites deep into the fish’s stomach.  And with another divine tug Satan the slimy fish is hauled up to the shore.  Satan is conquered, sin is conquered, and death is conquered.  Jesus on the end of the hook has been raised from the abyss of death, He lives once again.   And finally, very importantly because of our Lord’s resurrection Heaven has been opened.

Until his resurrection Heaven had been closed to all men and women.  In the preface just before the Holy, Holy, Holy, the priest prays these words, “Through Him the children of light will rise  to eternal life and the halls of the heavenly Kingdom are thrown open to the faithful; for his Death is our ransom from death, and in his rising the life of all has risen.” And with heaven open we all have the opportunity to become a saint.  When we get to heaven we are a saint.  Most saints go unrecognized but sometimes the Church, after much scrutiny, canonizes some of those saints, canonizing certain men and women to hold up as examples of holiness.  Six years ago I went to Rome to witness the canonization of Popes John XXIII and John Paul II.  It was a crowed and noisy experience, and very Polish.  Many people from Poland has traveled to Rome for the big day.  These two men like all the other canonized were infallibly declared to be in Heaven, adoring and praising God and praying for us.

These two men are very different from each other.  Yet both exhibited heroic virtue and holiness.  St. John Paul was born into a middle class Polish family being the youngest of three.  While St. John was born into a poor share-cropping Italian family being born the fourth of fourteen.  St. John Paul was a globe-trotting pope while St. John tended to stay put.  St. John opened the second Vatican Council from which we are still learning.  St. John Paul played a major role in ending communist rule in Europe.  There is no one pattern of holiness, no one way to be a saint.

When we look at the saints in all their diversity it’s very difficult to find one pattern of holiness.  There is St. Thomas Aquinas, the intellectual, and St. John Vianney who barely made it through the seminary.  There is St. Vincent de Paul, a saint in the city, and then there is St. Antony who found sanctity in the harshness and loneliness of the desert.  There is St. Bernard kneeling on the hard stones of Clairvaux in penance for his sins, and there St. Hildegard of Bingen singing and throwing flowers, madly in love with God.  There is St. Joan of Arc, leading armies into war, and there is St. Francis of Assisi, the peacenik.  There is the grave and serious St. Jerome, and there is St. Philip Neri, whose spirituality was based on laughter.

They say that God is an artist and that the saints are his masterpieces and like any artist he likes to change his style, painting his saints in different colors, different styles, and different compositions.  Each saint reflects some aspect of the divine reality.  So what does that mean for us?  It means we should find that specific color, style, and composition of sanctity that God wants to bear through us.  As St. Catherine of Siena once said, “If we become what God has in mind for us we will set the world on fire.” 

At the beginning I spoke of God as the Divine Fisherman.  And with us too he fishes.  Some spiritual writers will say that there is an invisible line with an unseen hook set within our hearts.  And with a gentle tug of this line our Lord calls us to himself.  Now we can respond to this tug of grace on our heart or not, it’s up to us, we have free will.  Do we always respond to that tug, do we always respond to that inspiration to do good, do we always respond to that inspiration to pray, do we always respond to that inspiration to visit someone who needs help. Our Lord has a plan of sanctity for each one of us.  And nothing can interfere with that plan as long as we respond to those tugs on our hearts.  We are free to respond or not.  Those tugs invite us to let Jesus help us to trust more, to love more, to hope more, and to begin again quickly if we fall.

The Easter Resurrection means an elevation of this life to a new heavenly level, a new heavenly perfection, and a new heavenly beauty, a newness that we can’t even begin to imagine.  St. Paul wrote of this in his letter to the Corinthians, he wrote, “What eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and what has not entered the human heart, is what God has prepared for those who love him.”

I have one more fishing story, this time you are the fish, swimming in a murky cloudy dark pond.  Then imagine being hooked by a fisherman and being pulled up out of the water and for one moment you see a world of light and color, light and color that you never imagined possible.  You then wriggle off the hook and fall back into the pond.  Later at dinner you tell your fish friends, “I saw the world up there, a world which I never knew existed.  Yet now compared to that, this ordinary world seems like nothing to me.”

Because of the Easter Resurrection of our Lord, the glory of an unimagined heaven awaits us.  My prayer for us today is that we always respond quickly to those divine tugs on our heart.  If we let Him our Risen Lord will make us a saint and lead us to the glory of Heaven.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today is Palm Sunday and palms were the ancient world’s symbol of triumph.  Christians see them as a symbol of our Lord’s triumph and definitive victory over sin, and death, and hopelessness.  That’s why we place them on our crucifixes.  Today is also known as Passion Sunday where Catholics throughout the world once again turn their hearts and minds to the suffering and death of Jesus.  Now in all Catholic Churches you will see the different images of the passion.   In the fourteen Stations of the Cross we see the passion played out.  And right now I want to focus on station number six; Veronica wipes the face of Jesus.

Now in the movie, “The Passion of the Christ” by Mel Gibson the actress who imitated the actions of St. Veronica had a conversion experience, right there in the midst of filming the scene.  Sabrina Impacciatore is an Italian actress and although she had grown up Catholic, she had long ago stopped practicing her faith.  At the time when they began filming, she was at a spiritual low point in her life.  She later explained that she really wanted to believe in Jesus, but she just couldn’t do it.

Her scene in the movie is quite memorable.  Jesus is carrying his cross to Calvary and he falls again for the third or fourth time.  The crowds surge in around him, abusing him as he lies on the ground.  Without much success the soldiers try to control the crowds.    And gliding through the middle of all this confusion is Veronica.  She looks at Jesus with love and devotion.  She kneels down beside him and says, “Lord, permit me.”  She takes a white cloth and wipes his face which is covered with blood, dirt, and sweat.  She then offers him a drink.  It’s a brief moment of intimacy in the middle of violent suffering.  Sabrina said it was a very hard scene to film.  The churning crowd kept bumping into her and disrupting the moment of intimacy.  And so they had to film it over and over again.  Twenty times they had to film it before getting it right.

And that was providential.  Because after twenty times of kneeling before the suffering Christ, looking into his eyes, and calling him Lord, the actress felt something start to melt inside her.  She wasn’t seeing the actor pretending to be our Lord; she was seeing our Lord himself.  Later, she explained that while she looked into his eyes, she found that she was able to believe.  “For a moment,” she said, “I believed!”  That experience lit the flame of hope in her darkened heart.

Sabrina finally understood the words Jesus spoke from the Cross when he said, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” The brutality of the scene made a big impression on her.  She found herself thinking, “Jesus is someone I can trust, he went through this for me.”  Even when we reject him, scourge him, crown him with thorns, betray him, and finally crucify him, our Lord still continues to love us.  The Passion is God saying to us, I will keep loving you.

The name Veronica comes from the two words vera and icon and these two words mean true image.   This true image refers to the image of Jesus’ face that was left on the cloth that was used to wipe his face.  This relic is kept at the Vatican and scientists can’t explain it.  Vera icon, the true image, eventually became Veronica, the name given to the anonymous woman who loved Jesus.  As Christians all of us are supposed to be a Veronica, a true icon, a true image of Jesus.  Because it’s only in him, only when we live in his image, living as a true icon of our Lord, that we can truly be happy.

When we pray the Stations of the Cross, right before station number six we sing of Veronica.  We sing, “Brave but trembling came the woman, none but she would flaunt the Roman, moved by love beyond her fear.”  So as we enter into Holy Week, like Sabrina that actress, like St. Veronica herself, let us look into the eyes of our Lord, giving ourselves to him in all things.  Praying for the grace to not be afraid to love.  To pray for the grace to not be afraid to bring Him all of our sins, to bring to him our hurts, our doubts, our troubles, our hardness of hearts, our everything.  Trusting Him in everything.  In doing this our Lord will transform us, making us into a true image of Himself.

Let us be Great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

There once lived in a German village a very wealthy and leisurely couple.  They were Catholic but rarely if ever stepped into a Church.  They never made time to pray.  They rarely received the sacraments, and hardly ever served their neighbors.  They just weren’t developing a friendship with Christ.   They were more interested in their social life.  After many years God blessed them with a child, whom they loved dearly, they even had him baptized.  But, as we all live in a fallen world of free will, while he was very young, there was a terrible accident and the baby died. The couple was devastated.  Their sorrow soon turned to anger and  hopelessness, and so they came to speak with a priest.

“If God loves us,” they asked “Why did he do this to us?”  The priest answered, “God does indeed love you.  But he didn’t do this to you.  He didn’t cause the accident, but he did take your son to heaven. And his taking of your son to heaven can be seen as a sign of that love.”  They didn’t like that answer.  So the priest told them a story.

A good shepherd prepared a delicious feast for his sheep.  The feast was made of the best alfalfa hay and oats and most sheep would’ve drooled at the sight of it.    But when the shepherd opened the sheep pen, his sheep wouldn’t come in and eat it.  He called and whistled and sang, but they just kept wandering farther and farther away.  Finally the shepherd went out and picked up a little lamb, carried it into the pen, and set it down beside the food.  When the other sheep saw the lamb eating hungrily, they all made their way into the pen to enjoy the feast.

“This is what Jesus has done for you,” the priest said to the couple.  Until now you’ve always refused to prepare yourself to come to the great feast he has prepared for you in heaven, no matter how many invitations he’s sent you.  You’ve been giving so much attention to earthly comforts that you’ve neglected the care of your souls.  And now our Lord has brought your son to heaven.  Did you consider that maybe God is using his death as a way of drawing you in?  In this act of taking your child to heaven, whom you love so much, our Lord hopes you will find yourselves inspired to follow Him in the Christian way here on earth so that you can follow your son into Heaven.  Our Lord is saying to you, “Come to me I am the resurrection, I am the life.  Your son lives here with me in Heaven. If you believe in me, even if you die, you will live.  Come to me.”

Now in our Gospel today Martha and Mary are bit like this German couple.  They are both stunned by the death of their brother Lazarus, probably a young man who died a rapid death.  They’re not only in grief but a bit angered that Jesus didn’t come more quickly to prevent Lazarus from dying.  Both Martha and Mary say to Jesus, “Lord if you had been here our brother would not have died.” 

So Jesus leads these sisters to authentic faith and hope by asking two questions.  First he asks a question about hope, he says, “Do you believe that your brother will rise?”  And Martha does answer in the affirmative saying, “Yes, I believe that my brother Lazarus will rise from the dead on the last day.”  This response is typical for a pious Jew of that time period.  They believed that there was some sort of survival after death and that there is some sort of judgment at the end of time.  But this hope of life after death was kind of vague and impersonal, not much to grasp onto.

The second question that Jesus asks is about faith; the first question was about hope and the second about faith.  He asks, “Do you believe that I am the Resurrection and the eternal life you are looking for?  Do you believe that in and through me you will have life beyond death?”  And Martha answers, “Yes.” And making an act of faith she says to Jesus, “You are the Christ the Son of God, come into the world to save us from sin.”  Her hope for life after death is no longer a vague concept.  Her hope for life after death now has a name, and this name is Jesus.

These two questions posed to Martha about hope and faith still confront us today.  If Christ were to ask today the average American about life after death, the vast majority of Americans would still answer in the affirmative.  Yes, there is something beyond death, and it has something to do with the moral choices we make in this life.  But again this hope is vague; God is imagined to be a lenient Judge where everyone goes to Heaven.  This answer gives no concept of living deep within the life of Jesus, a life given to us in baptism and maintained by prayer, Sunday Mass, good works, and all the sacraments.  Christ also asks us the second question, “Do you believe that in Christ alone we find the resurrection from the dead and that in the risen Christ we see our own future communion with God?”

It’s a yes to these questions, a yes to Jesus Christ that guides us to real Christian hope.  It’s the hope of freedom from the corruption of sin and death made possible through the gift of our Lord’s passion and resurrection.  It’s the hope of that great feast in Heaven.

Now the risen Lazarus confirms the truth that Jesus can conquer death.   But his rising from the dead prefigures and points us to the perfect conquering of death in Jesus.  Lazarus points us to the glory of Christ raised forever.  In Lazarus we see the beginning of Christian hope where all faithful disciples will one day share God’s glory, a heavenly glory that is beyond the tomb and beyond our deepest earthly and momentary grief.

The Good Shepherd still beckons to us today, “Come to me,” he says, “I weep too, I have entered into your pain, I have entered into your fear, I have entered into your loss, I am not far from you, I am very close, come to me and live.”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Not long ago a woman asked me if I knew anything about Saint Odette.  Her granddaughter was going to receive this name and she wanted to know more about her.   I had to say no, never heard of her, never heard of St. Odette.  So I did a little research and in doing so I found a connection with today’s Gospel, a nice coincidence.  Odette is derived from the name Odilia.  And St. Odilia was born blind.  She was born in the 7^th century to Lord Aldaric and his wife Bereswindia.  Aldaric ruled over a small portion of what is now Eastern France.  And when his daughter was born blind he was furious at God.  He regarded her blindness as a personal affront to himself.  How dare God send him a blind child, “She should be killed,” he yelled.  And he would have done it if his wife hadn’t intervened.

So instead the baby Odilia was sent to a convent to be raised by nuns, and there she stayed.  Possibly she wasn’t given the best of attention because she was 12 years old before it was realized that she hadn’t been baptized.  So the local bishop was called and he came and baptized her.  In that moment that the water was poured upon her she regained her eyesight.  This singular event of baptism and the cure of blindness is pre-figured in today’s Gospel.  Odilia was enlightened by Jesus just as the blind man was enlightened by Jesus.  And us too, we are enlightened by Jesus at Baptism.  In the early church they would say to be baptized is to be enlightened by Jesus.

Bible scholars will say that to be blind from birth is a symbol for Original Sin, the result of the fall of our first parents.  Our vision is compromised we don’t see correctly.  We don’t see the way God wants us to see.  But as we know Jesus is the enemy of darkness.  “I’m the light of the world,” he says, “I’ve come to bring light.”  And with baptism we are drawn into his mystical body and with this sacrament we begin to see, we begin to get the things of the spiritual life, the light bulb comes on.

To grow in holiness, to grow in enlightenment means seeing more and more with the eyes of Jesus, and it may take a lifetime but that’s what begins to happen when we are grafted into his mystical body at baptism.  We begin to see the way Jesus sees.  Now today in the Gospel Jesus does something unusual, something my brothers and I liked hearing about, something we talked about, something we imitated.  Jesus spits on the ground and makes a mud paste and then places it on the blind man’s eyes.  My brother Joe would never let us do this to him; he always stopped us at this point.  Church Fathers would say the spit represents our Lords divinity and the mud paste represents his humanity.  And this coming together of the two forms a salve for all of our sin sick eyes.  Putting on Christ rubbing him into our eyes is what allows us to see rightly.  His incarnation is the salve for our sin sick eyes.  And finally that pool of Siloam is the symbol of baptism a total immersion into the one who is sent.  When we are salved and washed by Jesus we come to see.

In today’s gospel we follow a man’s journey of enlightenment we follow his journey of seeing more and more rightly.  And he makes this journey in a very short period of time.  After being washed in the pool of Siloam we see his faith and understanding grow; and as he’s repeatedly interrogated by the Pharisees we see his spiritual life take off.  At first he called the one who gave him sight, “The man called Jesus.”  Later with more interrogation, the once blind man said, “He is a prophet.”  And later on, exasperated by the constant questions, the man says, “This Jesus is from God.”  Through constantly explaining Jesus to others, he found his own understanding of who Jesus was and in so doing, he came to faith.  Pope Francis earlier this year said that if we want to advance in our own spiritual life, then, we must constantly be missionaries.  Like the once blind man to grow in our faith we must constantly explain Jesus to others.    We explain the reason for our joy.

Now if we think about it, the very first face that the blind man most clearly saw was the face of Jesus.  Breaking through the darkness he saw the face of our Lord.  A face that’s all strength, all innocence, all kindness, all love, all heavenly light.  We know what a relief it is to see a kind face when we are in distress.  Now sometimes there are areas of darkness in our own life, darkened areas of our heart that need the light of Christ.  We need only to expose this darkness to the light of his face.  His light takes away the power of darkness.  We find this light in Mass, in moments of quiet prayer, in the sacrament of reconciliation, in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament and in worthy thoughtful reception of the Holy Eucharist.  The light of his countenance is always there for us.  What area(s) of darkness within our heart need the light of Christ?

Our Lord broke through the physical darkness of Odilia.  He broke through both the physical and spiritual darkness of the blind man in today’s Gospel.  And so my prayer for us today is that we are given the grace of knowing and allowing the Lord to break through whatever darkness, whatever spiritual blindness afflicts us, because to make Jesus the number one of our life is the key to salvation, happiness, and true vision.  To worship anything or anyone else is blindness.

Let us become great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

“I Thirst For You” – A Letter From Mother Teresa

It is true. I stand at the door of your heart, day and night. Even when you are not listening, even when you doubt it could be Me, I am there: waiting for even the smallest signal of your response, even the smallest suggestion of an invitation that will permit Me to enter. I want you to know that each time you invite Me, I do come always, without fail. Silent and invisible I come, yet with a power and a love most infinite, bringing the many gifts of My Spirit. I come with My mercy, with My desire to forgive and heal you, with a love for you that goes beyond your comprehension.  A love in each detail, so grand like the love I have received from My Father “I have loved all of you as the Father has loved me…” John 15:10

I come longing to console you and give you strength, to lift you up and bind all your wounds. I bring you My light, to dispel your darkness and all your doubts. I come with My power, that allows me to carry you:  with My grace, to touch your heart and transform your life. I come with My peace, to calm your soul.  I know you like the palm of my hand. I know everything about you. Even the hairs of your head I have counted. Nothing in your life is unimportant to Me. I have followed you through the years and I have always loved you even when you have strayed. I know every one of your problems. I know your needs and your worries and yes, I know all your sins.  But I tell you again that I love you, not for what you have or ceased to do, I love you for you, for the beauty and the dignity My Father gave you by creating you in His own image. It is a dignity you have often forgotten, a beauty you have tarnished by sin. But I love you as you are, and I have shed My Blood to rescue you. If you only ask Me with faith, My grace will touch all that needs changing in your life: I will give you the strength to free yourself from sin and from all its destructive power.

I know what is in your heart, I know your loneliness and all your wounds, the rejections, the judgments, the humiliations, I carried it all before you. And I carried it all for you, so you could share My strength and My victory. I know, above all, your need for love, how much you are thirsting for love and tenderness.  Yet, how many times have you desired to satisfy your thirst in vain, seeking that love with selfishness, trying to fill the void within you with passing pleasures, with the even greater emptiness of sin.

Do you thirst for love?  “Come to Me all you who thirst …” (John 7:37).I will satisfy you and fill you.  Do you thirst to be loved?  I love you more than you can imagine … to the point of dying on a cross for you.  I THIRST FOR YOU.  Yes, that is the only way to even begin to describe My love for you.  I THIRST FOR YOU. I thirst to love you and to be loved by you. So precious are you to Me that I THIRST FOR YOU.  Come to Me, and I will fill your heart and heal your wounds. I will make you a new creation and give you peace even in your trials.  I THIRST FOR YOU.  You must never doubt My mercy, My desire to forgive, My longing to bless you and live My life in you, and that I accept you no matter what you have done.  I THIRST FOR YOU.

If you feel of little value before the eyes of the world, it doesn’t matter. There is no one that interests me in the whole world than you.  I THIRST FOR YOU.  Open up to Me, come to Me, thirst for Me, give me your life. I will prove to you how important you are for My Heart.  Don’t you realize that My Father already has a perfect plan to transform your life, beginning from this moment? Trust in Me. Ask Me every day to enter and take charge of your life and I will. I promise you before My Father in Heaven that I will work miracles in your life. Why would I do this?  Because I THIRST FOR YOU.

All I ask of you is that you entrust yourself to Me completely. I will do all the rest. From this moment, now, I behold the place My Father has prepared for you in My Kingdom. Remember that you are a pilgrim in this life traveling back home. Sin can never satisfy you, or bring the peace you seek. All that you have sought outside of Me has only left you more empty, so do not tie yourself to the things of this world; above all, do not run from Me when you fall.  Come to Me without delay because, when you give Me your sins, you give Me the joy of being your Savior.  There is nothing I cannot forgive and heal; so come now, and unburden your soul.  No matter how far you have strayed without a destination, no matter how often you have forgotten Me, no matter how many crosses you bear in this life; I want you to always remember, one thing that will never change.  I THIRST FOR YOU – just you, as you are.  You don’t need to change to believe in My love, for it will be your confidence in that love that will make you change. You forget Me, and yet I am seeking you every moment of the day – standing before the doors of your heart and calling.  Do you find this difficult to believe? If so, look at the Cross, look at My Heart that was pierced for you.  Have you not understood My Cross?  Then listen again to the words I spoke there, for they tell you clearly why I endured all this for you:  “….I THIRST” (John 19: 28)  YES, I THIRST FOR YOU.

As the rest of the psalm, I was praying says of Me: “… I waited uselessly for compassion, I waited for someone to console me and I did not find it.” (Psalm 69: 20).  All your life I have been desiring your love. I’ve never ceased searching for your love and longing to be loved by you in return. You have tried many things in your goal to be happy. Why not try opening up for Me your heart, right now, more than you ever have before?

When you finally open the doors of your heart and you finally come close enough, you will then hear Me say again and again, not in mere human words but in spirit:  “No matter what you have done, I love you for your own sake.  Come to Me with your misery and your sins, with your problems and needs, and with all your desire to be loved.

I stand at the door of your heart and call…Open to Me, for I THIRST FOR YOU… “

“Jesus is God, therefore His Love and His Thirst are infinite. He, the Creator of the universe, asked for the love of his creatures. He has thirst for our love … These words: “I THIRST” … Do they echo in our soul?

St. Teresa of Calcutta

Dear Friends,

Some years ago England’s national television network, BBC-TV, sent its star journalist, Malcolm Muggeridge, to India to do a documentary on Mother Teresa.

Now the BBC wanted to televise Mother Teresa and her sisters picking up the dying in the slums of Calcutta and taking them to a shelter run by the sisters.  At the shelter the dying are washed up and cared for, as Mother Teresa put it, “Within the sight of a loving face.”  The shelter to which they were brought was once a temple to the Hindu goddess Kali.  It was dimly lit by tiny windows high up in the walls.  The television crew had not anticipated the poor lighting inside the building, and had not brought any portable lights with them.  They concluded that it was useless to try to film the sister working with the dying inside the building.  But someone suggested they do it anyway.  Perhaps some of the footage would be usable.

To everyone’s surprise, the footage filmed inside the shelter turned out to be in their words spectacular.  The whole interior was bathed in a mysterious warm light.  Technically speaking, the camera crew said, the results were impossible to explain.  Muggeridge had his own theory about the mysterious light.  He wrote, “Mother Teresa’s home for the dying is overflowing with love…One senses this immediately on entering it.  This love is luminous, like the haloes artists make visible round the heads of the saints.  I find it not at all surprising that the luminosity should register on film.”

What Muggeridge was talking about was not a figment of his imagination.  It is something that is well documented in biblical and spiritual literature.  The Book of Exodus says that when Moses came down from the mountain after talking with God, the people noticed how radiant his face had become, and they were afraid to come near him.  St. Kateri Tekakwitha when praying before the Blessed Sacrament would just glow with joy, her face seemed to shine with the love of God.  People would enter the church just to stare at her, rather than pray before the Blessed Sacrament.  And in today’s Gospel Peter, James, and John report that our Lord was transfigured before them; his face shone like the sun.  The love of God can be luminous.

The word transfigured comes from the Greek word metamorphane, which is where we get the word metamorphosis.  A caterpillar becomes a butterfly, a tadpole becomes a frog, and a seed becomes a plant, all of them being raised to a higher state.  All these are forms of metamorphosis.  And the bright light emanating from Jesus is also symbol of metamorphosis.  Jesus is raised to a higher level.  He’s raised to the level of Heaven and Peter, James, and John get a glimpse of the Heavenly Trinitarian love and they get a glimpse of what God intends for Jesus after the Resurrection and for all of us.

Now the Gospel also speaks of our Lord’s clothes that are white as light.  Theologians see this as an external dimension of someone who is deeply in touch with God.  A person who shares a deep communion with God, one who is deeply in love with God, radiates outward making one’s life brilliant.  When we are in deep communion with God this beautiful relationship can sometimes radiate outward and be seen.  I think this is what people saw in Moses, St. Teresa of Calcutta and St. Kateri.  These saints’ love for God was so deep that it became physically evident.  We’ve all known people like this, they just can’t hide their love for God.

Every Christian is called to this, is called to be a light in our darkened world.  Every Christian is called upon to radiate the light of Christ to the world. Jesus said to his disciples, “You are the light of the world.  Your light must shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Heavenly Father.”

Muggeridge in his book wrote of an incident where Mother Teresa gave a talk in a school.  He wrote, “I was watching… the faces of the people as they listened…Every face…was rapt, hanging on her words; not because of the words themselves-they were ordinary enough-but because of her.  Some quality came across over and above the words that held their attention.  A luminosity seemed to fill the school hall…penetrating every mind and heart.  When she had finished…they all wanted to touch her hand…She looked so small and frail and tired standing there, giving herself.  Yet this is how we find salvation.  Giving, not receiving…dying in order to live.”   Mother Teresa was a light in the darkness to these people.  She was giving not receiving and she was dying to self in order to live.

So what about us; the people of St. Jerome’s and St. Joseph’s, like Moses, St. Teresa of Calcutta, and St. Kateri we too are called to be a light in the darkness of our world.  Now maybe our face won’t be glowing but our words and actions should.  Lent is a time for asking ourselves how well we are living out our calling.  Are we pursuing the corporal and spiritual works of Mercy?  Lent is a time for asking ourselves how well we are letting our Christian light shine.  Where do I need to be a brighter light of God’s love?  Where is our Lord calling me to let his light shine through me?  Is it with the family, parents, spouse, children, in-laws, is it at work with friends, and co-workers, is it at school, is it in the community, or is it in the parish?  And after this examination if we find we weren’t doing as well as we could, Lent is also a time for repenting and beginning anew to live this calling to transfiguration.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

It’s Lent I’m a priest and everyday my email is filled with lots of Lenten meditations.  I can’t read them all but I ran across one on Friday that made me pause.  It was written by St. Anselm.  He lived in the middle Ages.  In this meditation St. Anselm was in a way referring to the Fall of Adam.  As we read in our first reading from Genesis, “The Lord God formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life.”   God exalts in our physicality, it is good.  Our physical body is good.  But we are more than just physical matter we are enlivened by the very breath of God.  We are body and soul.

But then, in our God-given freedom, we gave into temptation and sinned.  We mucked it up.  St. Anselm referring to this wrote, “We sinners are like diamonds that have fallen into the muck.  Made in the image of God, we have soiled ourselves through violence and hatred.  God could have simply pronounced a word of forgiveness from heaven, but this would not have solved the problem.  It wouldn’t have restored the diamonds to their original brilliance.  Instead, in his passion to reestablish the beauty of creation, God came down into the muck of sin and death, brought the diamonds up, and then polished them off.”  “God became man so that men might be made God.”  But in doing so God had to get dirty.  This sinking into the dirt-this divine solidarity with the lost-is the “sacrifice” which the Son makes to the infinite pleasure of the Father. It’s a sacrifice of compassion.

I have a story about a man who once sank into the muck.  But he did eventually let himself be raised and polished by our Lord.  He let himself be breathed upon once again by the breath of God.  His name is Jacques Fesch born in France in 1930.  He was born into a very famous wealthy banking family.  He had it easy.  His father gave him everything.  But he didn’t appreciate it.  He didn’t appreciate his Catholic faith and he abandoned it by the age of 17.  Jacques was not a good student, he put no effort into his studies, and he coasted.  He was more interested in parties and the adventures he could buy with his dad’s money.  After high school he spent a few years in the army.  At 21 he was back home working for his dad who had given him a very high paying job.  He married his pregnant girlfriend who soon gave birth to their daughter.  Jacques was soon bored with domesticity and left his wife and his job.  He was a playboy.  He sailed boats, rode horses, drove fast cars, and hung out with musicians.  The money soon ran out and his dad wouldn’t give him any more.  So in order to fund his lifestyle to which he was accustomed, he came up with the scheme to rob the Paris Stock Exchange.  In the process of this poorly executed robbery he shot and killed a police officer.  He was quickly apprehended, he was 24.

He showed no remorse.  He said he was only sorry that he hadn’t carried a machine gun.  He could have killed more people.  He told the prison chaplain to get lost and he mocked his devout Catholic lawyer who showed concern for his soul.  Fesch was convicted and sentenced to the guillotine.  He was to be beheaded.  He remained faithless and hostile for about a year.  Until one night he experienced a sudden and dramatic conversion.  “I was in bed, eyes open, really suffering for the first time in my life  It was then that a cry burst from my breast, an appeal for help – My God – and instantly, like a violent wind which passes over without anyone knowing where it comes from, the spirit of the Lord seized me by the throat.”  Reminding us of Genesis where God blew into his nostrils the breath of life.  Jacques would later write, “I had an impression of infinite power and kindness and, from that moment onward, I believed with an unshakeable conviction that has never left me.”

After his reversion to the faith of his childhood Jacques became a model prisoner.  In his cell he lived the life of a monk.  And he expressed profound remorse for the murder he had committed.  During his time in prison Jacques wrote many letters and kept a journal.  These writings and his profound conversion made an impression on many people and it has put him on the path to beatification and possible canonization.  He was executed at the age of 27.  At the scaffold before the blade fell Jacques asked the priest standing beside him for the crucifix so that he could kiss it. After kissing the crucifix his last words were, “Holy Virgin, have pity on me.”

God came down into the muck of sin and death, brought the diamond up, and then polished him off.  Jacques lived at both ends of the spectrum first at the extreme disobedience of Adam and then later after repenting he lived at the extreme obedience of Christ. He went back to living within the breath of God, to living within the life of the Trinity.  In scripture we read that after the resurrection Jesus appeared to his disciples and he said to them, “Peace be with you.  And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit.’” 

Today is Quadragesima Sunday which means it’s exactly forty days until Good Friday.  We have forty days to sit with our Lord in prayer, we have forty days to go to him in the sacraments, we have forty days to give of our self in charity, and we have forty days to fast from whatever distracts us from our Lord.  We are given these forty days to live more and more within the Breath of God, to be filled with God’s own life, to live more and more in the peace of our Lord.  We are given these forty days of preparation so that we can rejoice with a whole heart on Easter Sunday, and every Sunday.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley