Author: Christine Jordan

The voice of one crying in the wilderness

The Church observes the birth of John as in some way sacred; and you will not find any other of the great men of old whose birth we celebrate officially. We celebrate John’s, as we celebrate Christ’s. This point cannot be passed over in silence, and if I may not perhaps be able to explain it in the way that such an important matter deserves, it is still worth thinking about it a little more deeply and fruitfully than usual.

  John is born of an old woman who is barren; Christ is born of a young woman who is a virgin. That John will be born is not believed, and his father is struck dumb; that Christ will be born is believed, and he is conceived by faith.

  I have proposed some matters for inquiry, and listed in advance some things that need to be discussed. I have introduced these points even if we are not up to examining all the twists and turns of such a great mystery, either for lack of capacity or for lack of time. You will be taught much better by the one who speaks in you even when I am not here; the one about whom you think loving thoughts, the one whom you have taken into your hearts and whose temple you have become.

  John, it seems, has been inserted as a kind of boundary between the two Testaments, the Old and the New. That he is somehow or other a boundary is something that the Lord himself indicates when he says, The Law and the prophets were until John. So he represents the old and heralds the new. Because he represents the old, he is born of an elderly couple; because he represents the new, he is revealed as a prophet in his mother’s womb. You will remember that, before he was born, at Mary’s arrival he leapt in his mother’s womb. Already he had been marked out there, designated before he was born; it was already shown whose forerunner he would be, even before he saw him. These are divine matters, and exceed the measure of human frailty. Finally, he is born, he receives a name, and his father’s tongue is loosed.

  Zachary is struck dumb and loses his voice, until John, the Lord’s forerunner, is born and releases his voice for him. What does Zachary’s silence mean, but that prophecy was obscure and, before the proclamation of Christ, somehow concealed and shut up? It is released and opened up by his arrival, it becomes clear when the one who was being prophesied is about to come. The releasing of Zachary’s voice at the birth of John has the same significance as the tearing of the veil of the Temple at the crucifixion of Christ. If John were meant to proclaim himself, he would not be opening Zachary’s mouth. The tongue is released because a voice is being born – for when John was already heralding the Lord, he was asked, Who are you and he replied I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness.

  John is the voice, but the Lord in the beginning was the Word. John is a voice for a time, but Christ is the eternal Word from the beginning.

With you is the source of life

You who have been redeemed, consider who it is who hangs on the cross for you, whose death gives life to the dead, whose passing is mourned by heaven and earth, while even the hard stones are split. Consider how great he is; consider what he is.

  In order that the Church might be formed from the side of Christ as he slept on the cross, in order that the word of scripture might be fulfilled – ‘They shall look on him whom they have pierced’ – God’s providence decreed that one of the soldiers should open his sacred side with a spear, so that blood with water might flow out to pay the price of our salvation. This blood, which flowed from its source in the secret recesses of his heart, gave the sacraments of the Church power to confer the life of grace, and for those who already live in Christ was a draught of living water welling up to eternal life.

  Arise, then, bride of Christ, be like the dove that nests in the rock-face at the mouth of a cavern, and there, like a sparrow which finds its home, do not cease to keep vigil; there, like a turtle-dove, hide the fledglings of your chaste love; place your lips there to draw water from the wells of your Saviour. For this is the spring flowing from the middle of paradise; it divides and becomes four rivers, then spreads through all devout hearts, and waters the whole world and makes it fruitful.

  O soul devoted to God, whoever you may be, run to this source of life and light with eager longing. And with the power of your inmost heart cry out to him: ‘O indescribable beauty of God most high! O pure radiance of everlasting light! O life that gives life to all life! O light that illuminates every light, and preserves in its undying splendor the myriad flames that have shone before the throne of your godhead from the dawn of time!

  ‘O water eternal and inaccessible, clear and sweet, flowing from the spring that is hidden from the eyes of all mortal men; the spring whose depths cannot be plumbed, whose height cannot be measured, whose shores cannot be charted, whose purity cannot be muddied.’

  From this source flows the river which makes glad the city of God, so that with glad shouts and songs of thanksgiving we sing to you our hymns of praise, and by experience prove that with you is the fountain of life; and in your light we shall see light.

Dear Friends,

Servant of God Dr. Takashi Nagai was born in 1908 in a small Japanese village.  He spent the first half of his life as an atheist.  In medical school he spent his time studying, he was a good student, but he also liked drinking and carousing.  He would later write that it always seemed like something was missing in his life. 

While still a medical student he was called home one weekend because his mom was dying.  He was at his mother’s bedside as she died.  He wrote down his experience saying, “I was so sure there was no such thing as a soul.  But my mother’s eyes told me that the human spirit lives after death.  I could not but believe this.” 

In medical school Takashi discovered the writings of Blaise Pascal, a famous Catholic Scientist who passionately believed in God and prayer.  Takashi was intrigued.  Here was a man of science who believed in God.  But Takashi fretted, “How do I pray to a God I don’t even think exists.”  Providentially the next semester he rented a room from a Catholic family.  The Moriyama family had been Catholics for 300 years.  The atmosphere of joy in their home touched him. 

When the Moriyama’s daughter, Midori, came home for Christmas she invited Takashi to Midnight Mass.  At that Mass Takashi felt instinctively that there was a living presence within the community.  There was something more in that Church, something more he couldn’t see.  The author that Takashi loved reading Blaise Pascal once wrote, “In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don’t.”  Takashi wanted to believe. 

In a very short time he graduated from Medical school, was baptized, and married to Midori, this was 1934 and they lived in Nagasaki.  Takashi was a radiologist and in those days radiologists died very young due to radiation poisoning.  In the early 1940s Takashi was diagnosed with Leukemia, it was predicted that he would die very soon.  In a dream he was inspired to ask a Fr. Maximilian Kolbe to pray to God for him.  He’d met the future saint a number of times when Kolbe was a missionary to Japan.  His prayer was answered.  Takashi lived another 10 years. 

On August 9, 1945 Takashi was at work in the hospital that was the day an atomic bomb was dropped 700 meters from where he worked.  He was badly injured.  But still he was able to find his home.  It had been totally destroyed; he found his wife’s charred bones and in her hand was a melted and mangled rosary.  At her funeral a month later he gave a speech filled with faith, he compared the victims to a sacred offering to obtain peace. 

The following year he wrote a book entitled the “Bells of Nagasaki” it was a best seller and was made into an award winning movie.  In 1948 he planted 1000 cherry trees at the site of the bombing; some of them still live today.  On May 1^st 1951 Takashi died.  His last words were, “Jesus, Mary, Joseph, into your hands, I entrust my soul.”  And to his children he said, “Please pray.”  Today Takashi Nagai is on the path to canonization, an atheist who moved from unbelief to a deep Catholic faith.

The scientist and author Blaise Pascale, who inspired Takashi Nagai, once wrote, “In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and enough shadows to blind those who don’t.”  Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Most Holy Body and Blood of Christ. Today we celebrate the Solemnity of the Eucharist.  It is said that only 30% of us believe that the Eucharist is the Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus.  It’s my prayer today that the other 70% of us would be drawn to the light of Eucharistic faith, because there is enough light for faith. 

St. Thomas Aquinas once said something very interesting about the Eucharist, “Sight, taste, and touch in Thee are deceived; the ear alone most safely is believed; I believe all the Son of God has spoken:  Than Truth’s own word there is no truer token.”  Do we believe Jesus’ words at the Last Supper and John chapter six or do we believe our human senses?  Do we believe the Eucharist is the Body and Blood of Jesus because he told us, or do we believe our own senses? 

Now sometimes to bolster our faith a Eucharistic miracle is given to us.  In 1996 there was a priest in Argentina who at the end of the day was walking through his church making sure everything was in place before locking the doors for the night.  But as he walked down one of the aisles he noticed on the floor a host.  Someone had dropped a Sacred Consecrated Host onto the floor.  The priest took the host and placed it into a cup of water.  The cup was then placed into the tabernacle.  Over the next few days the host would dissolve.  And after it had dissolved into the water the entire contents of the cup would be poured into the ground.  And so the priest placed the cup of water with the Sacred Host into the tabernacle. 

He went out of town for a few days and he forgot all about the incident.  When the priest got back to church a few days later and looked into the tabernacle he saw something that didn’t make sense.  The host, instead of dissolving into the water looked very unusual.   It hadn’t dissolved at all; instead it was fleshy in appearance and blood red in color. 

The priest took the transformed host to a friend who was a histopathologist.  A histopathologist is a scientist who is specialized at examining microscopic tissue samples.  They are experts at identifying tissue samples and disease processes.  They know how to make a diagnosis based on a microscopic tissue exam.  The scientist was told nothing of where the sample came from. 

The histopathologist reported that the tissue sample was that of cardiac muscle, it was heart tissue.  And the sample was taken from the part of the heart that initiates the beat, the beat that gives life to the heart and body.   The sample was also infiltrated with white blood cells.  The white blood cells were there because the heart was suffering.  The scientist said he sees this type of white blood cell infiltration in people who are beaten severely in the area of the chest. 

This is not the only Eucharistic miracle where the host has been transformed.  In all the many Eucharistic miracles, where human tissue is present, it’s always distressed heart muscle that is found, the heart, that ancient symbol of love.

On this great Solemnity of the Eucharist may our faith deepen in our Eucharistic Lord and like Servant of God Takashi Nagai may we follow where He leads.  In faith there is enough light for those who want to believe and may we all want to believe.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

Dear Friends,
Are you ever lonely? Do you ever feel isolated?
When Eve was alone in the garden, the serpent came to tempt her and she sinned. When King David was alone in the palace and he gazed upon the woman on the rooftop of his neighbor’s house, he embraced temptation and sinned. When Jesus was alone in the desert, and later when he was alone in the garden, the devil came to tempt him, but he didn’t sin. Temptation, it seems, often finds us and searches for us in isolation and in loneliness.
But we were not created for isolation and loneliness. In this fallen world we certainly experience isolation and loneliness. And we certainly suffer from isolation and loneliness. We experience it. We suffer from it. We fight against it. But we weren’t created for isolation and loneliness. We were created for something else. We were created for something better because God was not alone when we were created. And in His image and likeness we are created.
We are not the result of God looking for company. We were not created as the answer to the question of God being lonely and isolated. From all eternity, the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit have lived in perfect harmony, perfect blessedness, and perfect communion. Nothing is needed. Nothing is lacking. There is no loneliness in the Trinity. There is no isolation in the Trinity; instead there is an infinite relationship of self-giving and receiving. There is love. The Father loves the Son, the Son loves the Father and that love is so complete and intense we call that love the Holy Spirit.
The Holy Trinity needs absolutely nothing, the Holy Trinity needs absolutely nothing for blessedness, happiness, perfect communion, and harmony, but yet, we exist — we exist because; from that love and for that love, we were created. We are not needed, but we are wanted. We are not needed, but we are loved. We are not needed, but we are desired. We are not needed but we are wanted, loved, and desired by
the God of heaven and earth. For God created us not for isolation and loneliness, but for communion with Him and with each other.
The tragedy of sin, however, the echo of Adam and Eve’s “No” fractures the communion, it damages our relationships with God and each other. Sin leaves us at times in isolation and loneliness. But the triumph of God’s grace, the echo of Mary’s “Yes”, the ever-present reality of our Lord’s “Yes”, and the continual “Yes” of the Church to her Lord, and our “Yes,” draws us more and more into the communion for which we were created.
This “Yes” to God and “No” to sin is strengthened at every Mass we participate in, if we allow it. At every Mass we participate, if we allow it, our life within the Trinity is strengthened and deepened. As the Host of Bread is place on the paten and the wine is poured into the chalice, and both are put upon the altar, we are there as well. We are there on the altar with the bread and the wine. So when you see that paten with the host on the altar, put all your sins, put all your failings, put all your sufferings, put all your worries, put all your crosses onto that paten. When you see the chalice of wine on the altar put all your sins, put all your failings, put all your sufferings, put all your worries, put all your crosses into that chalice of wine. Share in the death of Jesus, and then with Jesus offer them to the Father, be willing to enter into the death and resurrection of Jesus with Him and through the Holy Spirit. And then at the time of Holy Communion, in the Eucharist, in the Body and Blood, Soul, and Divinity of Jesus, we receive the graces of new life, the graces of forgiveness, the graces of resurrection. Do this at every Mass and your “Yes” to God and your “No” to sin will be strengthened and your life within the Trinity will be intensified.
St. Bernard of Clairvaux lived life within the midst of the Trinity. He was the man of the 12th century. He brought peace, joy, and
reconciliation wherever he went. He reconciled schisms between popes and antipopes; he brought reconciliation between feuding people and cities. His many homilies, poems, dissertations, and books are still teaching us today. He’s a doctor of the Church. When he left home at the age of 20 his joyful exuberance for religious life was so contagious that he brought with him to the monastery his 5 brothers, his 2 uncles, and 30 of his friends. And when he would go to various towns to preach missions mothers would hide their children, so persuasive was the example of his holy joy that many would want to leave home and enter into religious life. He brought revival to the Church. His efforts however, would have come to nothing if it weren’t for the Mass, the Eucharist, his prayer, his contemplation, his very life in the Trinity. His life in the Trinity brought him strength and Heavenly direction.
I want to end with the words of a hymn we sing at school Masses, these are words that we are called to live; these are words that St. Bernard of Clairvaux and all the saints before us have lived.
On the paten with the Host I offer up my lowly heart. All my life, my deeds, my thought, thine shall be as mine thou art. In the chalice let me be a drop of water mingled there. Lost O Jesus, in thy love; Thy great sacrifice I share. All today and every day O Jesus let me live in thee. So that I no longer live, but that thou may live through me.
In Baptism you entered into relationship with the Blessed Trinity and the Church. May your prayer, your contemplation, your good works, and your Holy Communions keep that relationship strong and deep, keeping you away from loneliness and isolation.
Pax et Bonum,
Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

From the treatise Against Heresies by Saint Irenaeus, bishop

The sending of the Holy Spirit

When the Lord told his disciples to go and teach all nations and to baptize them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, he conferred on them the power of giving men new life in God. He had promised through the prophets that in these last days he would pour out his Spirit on his servants and handmaids, and that they would prophesy. So when the Son of God became the Son of Man, the Spirit also descended upon him, becoming accustomed in this way to dwelling with the human race, to living in men and to inhabiting God’s creation. The Spirit accomplished the Father’s will in men who had grown old in sin, and gave them new life in Christ. 

Luke says that the Spirit came down on the disciples at Pentecost, after the Lord’s ascension, with power to open the gates of life to all nations and to make known to them the new covenant. So it was that men of every language joined in singing one song of praise to God, and scattered tribes, restored to unity by the Spirit, were offered to the Father as the first fruits of all the nations. 

This was why the Lord had promised to send the Advocate: he was to prepare us as an offering to God. Like dry flour, which cannot become one lump of dough, one loaf of bread, without moisture, we who are many could not become one in Christ Jesus without the water that comes down from heaven. And like parched ground, which yields no harvest unless it receives moisture, we who were once like a waterless tree could never have lived and borne fruit without this abundant rainfall from above. Through the baptism that liberates us from change and decay we have become one in body; through the Spirit we have become one in soul. 

The Spirit of wisdom and understanding, the Spirit of counsel and strength, the Spirit of knowledge and the fear of God came down upon the Lord, and the Lord in turn gave this Spirit to his Church, sending the Advocate from heaven into all the world into which, according to his own words, the devil too had been cast down like lightning. If we are not to be scorched and made unfruitful, we need the dew of God. Since we have our accuser, we need an Advocate as well. And so the Lord in his pity for man, who had fallen into the hands of brigands, having himself bound up his wounds and left for his care two coins bearing the royal image, entrusted him to the Holy Spirit. Now, through the Spirit, the image and inscription of the Father and the Son have been given to us, and it is our duty to use the coin committed to our charge and make it yield a rich profit for the Lord.

Dear Friends,

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

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

At every Mass we get a hint of that heavenly rope pulling us up.  There is one Mass in particular that stands out to me.  It was the Mass where Fr. Jose was ordained with three other men to the Transitional Diaconate.   It really made an impression.    It was a beautiful Mass, there were flowers, the music was awesome, there was the choir the organ and the trumpets, the Cathedral was packed with people all dressed up, and the sanctuary was crammed with priests.  I was in the back row smooshed between two other larger very healthy priests. Now for each reading someone from the assembly came up to the ambo to read the scripture passage.  For the first reading the woman was very slow in making her way to the ambo, heads were beginning to turn.  I’m sure they were thinking, “What’s going on?”  I think the first lector was slow in realizing that it was her time to read.  But when she got there she did a marvelous job.  Next we sang the psalm, the choir did a wonderful job and everyone in the assembly sang along.

Now for the second reading the lector was very prompt in getting to the ambo, she learned from the first reader.  But before she began to read, she blurted something out, now this isn’t something you’re not supposed to do, but she blurted something out, before doing the reading, she said, “This is Heaven!”   Then she turned around to smile at the Bishop.  Of course he smiled back at her.  Then she began to read. 

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

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

If Christ had not ascended into heaven, we would not be able to pray to him at any time and in any place, we would not be able to have him close by in the Eucharist, because if he had not ascended he would still be limited by time and space.   May 17^th was the Feast day of St. Paschal Baylon and he took advantage of fact, of praying to our Lord at any time and any place he found himself. 

St Paschal Baylon was a Spanish peasant, and he was a shepherd for the first 24 years of his life.  He could barely read, but he loved Christ, and he had a special understanding of Christ’s real presence in the Eucharist.  He had to stay with his sheep all day, from morning to night, everyday which made it impossible for him to go to Mass every day.  So he did the next best thing.  At the hour Mass was being celebrated, he would kneel on the hillsides, gazing at the church in the valley, and pray, uniting himself to Christ who was renewing his sacrifice and presence through the priest’s ministry.  Eventually, St Paschal found his vocation to become a religious brother.  He joined the local Franciscan community and encouraged everyone by his virtue, joy, and good humor.  During free moments between duties, he could almost always be found in the chapel, speaking with Christ in the Eucharist.  To casual onlookers he was kneeling on a hard stone floor here on earth, but in truth he was enjoying the presence of our King who sits forever on his throne in heaven.  He died when he was only fifty-two, at the very moment that the bell rang to signify the consecration at Mass.

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

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

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

As a seminarian I regularly visited a couple of nursing homes, I visited Saint Patrick’s Manor and I visited the Lutheran Netherland home.  It was at this second place, the Lutheran Netherland Home that I visited a woman by the name of Firminia, and she was neither Dutch nor Lutheran.  She was a Portuguese Catholic and she was 105 years old.  Firminia was born in Portugal where there wasn’t much opportunity, so after marrying she and her husband immigrated to the USA.  They landed in Boston and began to live the American dream.  This was back in the 1920s. 

Firminia and her husband quickly added four children to their family.  Their son Johnnie came of age at the time of World War II.  And Johnnie, like many of the young men of his generation, felt it was his patriotic duty to enlist into the army.  And he did.  His mom did not want him to go, however.  She had already left Europe.  And she had left for good.  She didn’t want her son going there.  Once overseas Johnnie experienced the terrors of war and in battle, he was lost very quickly.  He was killed by enemy fire within a very short time of setting foot on the continent of Europe. 

As you can imagine Firminia was heartsick for her dead son.  He was gone, taken from her at such a young age. Firminia would never see him marry and never see him have children of his own.  There wouldn’t be any grandchildren from her son Johnnie.  And then about a month or so after his death a letter from an insurance company arrived in Firminia’s mailbox.  It contained a check; and the letter accompanying the check stated that she was the recipient of her son’s insurance policy. Before going overseas to Europe, on an impulse Johnnie had taken out an insurance policy in case

he should die.  On this insurance policy he named his mother, Firminia, as the beneficiary.  She was surprised.  She hadn’t expected this and it brought about another wave of sorrow and she

started crying.  She didn’t know that more checks were to follow.  Every month year after year Firminia receive a check from this insurance company.  She received these checks every month for 64 years.  Until she died she received a monthly check and whenever a check would come, if someone was present she would say, “My son Johnnie still takes care of me.  Even though he’s been gone all these years he still takes care of me, I still feel his presence.”  Her sorrow had been replaced by joy. 

Jesus promised not to leave us alone. In the Gospel He says,  “I will ask the Father, and he will give your another Advocate to be with you always.”  He promised to send us the advocate, to send us the Spirit of Truth.  “He will remain with you, and will be in you.  I will not leave you orphans.”  He promised to continue to take care of us and to be present with and within us.  Leading us to truth, strengthening us and giving us the courage to say yes to God’s will.  From the catechism we have this; Jesus came to us to give us the Spirit, and by the Spirit we come to share God’s life.  This is the Catholic understanding of grace:  it is a sharing in divine life.  “As fire transforms into itself everything it touches, so the Holy Spirit transforms into the divine life whatever is subjected to his power.”

At the seminary before every class one of my teachers, Fr. Moriarty, would begin each class with the short prayer, “Come Holy Spirit!”  Whether he said it for himself or for us, I’m not sure.  But it’s a good prayer to always have on our lips and in our minds. It’s a good prayer to begin each day.   Praying it in those difficult moments when we are in need of heavenly aid, when we are in need of the right words and the right actions in our home, our place of work, or school.

Saint Hilary a fourth century bishop and Doctor of the Church once wrote this about the Holy Spirit (It’s so good);

“We receive the Spirit of truth, he wrote, so that we can know the things of God.  He then used the example of our eyes, ours ears, and our nose in order to explain the Holy Spirit and the Spirit’s relationship to our soul.  The eye does not work without light, the ear does not work without sound, and the nose does not work without a scent to smell.  Our organs of sense need light, and sound, and odor to work properly.    And it’s the same with the human soul.  Unless the soul absorbs the gift of the Spirit through faith, the mind won’t have the ability to know God it would lack the grace necessary for that knowledge. 

This unique gift which is in Christ is offered in its fullness to everyone.  It is everywhere available, but it’s given to each person in proportion to his or her readiness to receive it. The more we desire the more we receive.  

Firminia received a monthly gift from her son.  This gift supported her and gave her comfort and security.  How much more and in a more real way does the gift of the Holy Spirit support us giving us wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord.  Never neglect the gift of the Holy Spirit, let these words always be on our lips, “Come Holy Spirit Come!”

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In the Gospel today we hear that Jesus is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  He draws us out of darkness and into a wonderful light as St. Peter said in the second reading.  Libraries have been written about this statement.  And two millennia of saints have meditated upon this statement and lived it.  And I have an example of one of those saints, St. Francis Borgia.  St Francis Borgia discovered the infinite and eternal true way of Christ while at the very same time discovering how finite and fragile the way of human greatness really is.  Sometimes in paintings or statues St. Francis Borgia is shown holding a skull with a crown on top of it.  Meaning Human greatness, human royalty always comes to an end. 

St Francis Borgia lived in the 1500s and eventually he would become the second Superior General of the Jesuit Order.  He took over right after the founder St. Ignatius of Loyola had died.  His spectacular leadership laid the groundwork for that Order’s truly remarkable achievements.  But until he was 40-years-old, he wasn’t overly concerned about Christ and the Church, and living in the ways of Jesus. Instead, he lived the brilliant and dashing life of a Spanish nobleman.  Francis Borgia was the grandson of a Pope on one side of his family and the grandson of a King on the other side of his family.  He was a cousin to the ruling Emperor.  Francis was well connected, well-educated and he grew up enjoying the privileges of royalty living in Spain’s golden age.  He was extremely gifted with intelligence, courage, and all the natural virtues, and was one of the most trusted Imperial advisers.  He was also a close friend and advisor to the Empress Isabel, one of Europe’s greatest women.  Isabel was intelligent, very wise, beautiful, and loved by all.   

By his nature, his education, and his circumstances, Francis Borgia had a great future ahead of him, a great future within the worldly life of the royal court. But all of that changed abruptly when the Empress died.  After her death Francis was asked to escort the body of Isabel to the city of Grenada where she was to be buried.  It was a long and hot and dusty journey to Grenada.  At the city gates this cortege was met by the magistrates and they wanted to confirm the identity of the cadaver.    And so they opened the coffin.   But it had been such a long and hot journey that when they looked at the queen’s face they didn’t recognize it.  Her face had become so bloated and disfigured that no one could recognize it.  And the stench of the decaying body was so foul that everyone fled from the chamber.  Francis was in shock: he asked himself what had become of those intelligent eyes, what had become of her elegance and charm, her wit, the sweetness of her laughter?  It was all gone.

For the first time, Francis really understood how fragile and passing this life is.   One day she was Queen of Spain and Holy Roman Empress, revered and envied throughout the world, with unlimited wealth and power at her beck and call; and the next day, she was a repulsive, putrefying corpse.  That’s when St Francis Borgia began to think seriously about what Christ had really meant when he claimed to be the way, the truth, and the life, the conqueror of death and the source of eternal life. 

From ancient times, philosophers have summed up the human condition as a quest to answer three fundamental questions:

1. What should I do?

2. What can I know?

3.  What can I hope for? 

And today in response to doubting Thomas, Jesus gives us the definitive answer to each one of these questions when he tells us that he is the way,

the truth, and the life. Actually, Jesus doesn’t just give the answers as so much as he is the answers.  “I am the way” can translate into: “What should you do?  And our Lord answers Follow me! Do what I have done.” 

“I am the truth” means:  “What can you know? And our Lord answers, you can know everything, if only you know me.  “Knowing me, more and more every day, you know the secret behind the workings of the whole universe and the deepest yearnings of the human heart, because I made them both.  I am the eternal Word, the very Wisdom of God.”

“I am the life” means: “What can you hope for? And our Lord answers, in me, through me, you can hope for the fullness of life that you long for in the very depths of your soul.  “You can hope for your very own room in my Father’s house, in heaven – I have gone to prepare it for you. This room made especially and uniquely for you is within the heart of the Father.  A place of great tenderness and intimacy, a bliss unimaginable here on earth. “And in the Father’s house all sorrows turn to joy, all weakness turns to strength, and life grows more alive as eternity unfolds. 

Christ is truly the living water that quenches every thirst. He is truly the light that scatters every type of darkness.  The quest of every man and woman to satisfy the heart’s deepest needs is the quest to seek his face. As St Augustine famously wrote, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in God.”  And he added, “So cling to Christ if you wish to be secure, if you cling to Christ you will not get off the road, you will not get off the way, because he is the way.  And those who hold onto him are not walking off the road but on the right road.”

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today is Good Shepherd Sunday; it’s also World Day of Prayer for Vocations.  We pray for shepherds who imitate our Heavenly Good Shepherd.   And today I want to tell you about two different priests.  The first is Fr. Francis Grogan.  Fr. Grogan was born in 1925.  As a young man he served aboard a Navy destroyer during World War II.  And after the war he entered the Congregation of the Holy Cross and during those initial years he earned two degrees, one from Notre Dame, of course, and the second from Fordham University.  Fr. Grogan was ordained in 1955 and he spent the next 46 years working in education at the university and high school levels and on the weekends he went to work in various parishes.  Much of Fr. Grogan’s life was spent teaching and ministering at Stonehill College (a Holy Cross institution) in Easton Massachusetts.   He was described as being, well-educated but incredibly humble, he had no ego and he was a priest who really cared about people. 

On his 76^th birthday Fr. Grogan received the gift of an airline ticket.  This ticket would allow him to travel to California so that he could visit his sister Anne, whom he hadn’t seen in decades.  He really looked forward to seeing her.  So on the morning of the flight he got a ride to the airport and at the ticket counter he received the surprise that someone has upgraded him to first class and as he boards the plane he finds that he is sitting in front of one of his former students, a man by the name of Jim Hayden.  When Jim was a student at Stonehill Fr. Grogan had introduced him to a woman by the name of Peggy. Peggy would eventually become Jim’s wife.  Fr. Grogan was their matchmaker and he was very special to them and it was a nice surprise for Jim that Fr. Francis Grogan was sitting in front of him.  So he called his wife Peg to give her the news.  It was a nice little reunion.  Fr. Grogan got to talk to Peg for a few minutes. 

Now Fr. Grogan boarded his plane in Boston at Logan Airport and the date was September 11, 2001.  His plane would soon crash into the World Trade Center.  Peggy Hayden was later interviewed and she spoke of Fr. Grogan and she spoke of what he had done for her family.  She was

greatly consoled by the fact that her husband’s final moments were spent in the company of this holy priest.  “The power of the presence of a priest can be a mystical and mighty comfort,” she said.   “I know that Fr. Grogan exercised all the powers of his priesthood in those last moments.”

The next day Pope St. John Paul II would say that “Evil, terror, suffering, and death will not have the last word.”  And it didn’t, on that plane, Fr. Grogan’s words of absolution and peace had the last word. 

The second priest I want to talk about is an un-named priest.  On September 21^st, 1953 this particular priest happened to be praying in the Church of St. Joseph in Buenos Aires. In the Southern Hemisphere September 21^st is the first day of spring and in Argentina it’s a National Holiday called Students’ Day.  It’s a day when students don’t go to school a day they can goof off.  A 16 year old boy named Jorge Bergoglio (Pope Francis) was planning to go out to celebrate with friends on that day.  Before going out, however, Jorge decided to go to his parish church of St. Joseph to pray a bit before beginning the day of fun.  When Jorge arrived at the church, he saw a priest he didn’t recognize but this priest seemed to radiate holiness.  And so he decided to approach him and ask him to hear his confession.  Pope Francis later recounts that he doesn’t remember what he said to the priest or what the priest said in response.  But he does know that that confession totally changed not only his plans for the day, but also the plans for the whole course of his life.  Pope Francis would later say, “For me, this was an experience of encounter:  I found that someone was waiting for me.  Yet I don’t know what happened.  I can’t remember. I don’t know why that particular priest was there, whom I didn’t know, or why I felt this desire to confess.  But the truth is that someone was waiting for me.  He had been waiting for me for some time.  After making my confession, I felt something had changed.  I was not the same. I had heard something like a voice or a call.”  “I realized that God was waiting for me.” 

Both Fr. Francis Grogan and the unknown Argentinian priest were good

shepherds, good shepherds after our own Divine Shepherd, they each laid down their life for the sheep in their care.  And they each did it in a different way, in different parts of the world and in the way God called them to lay down their life.    Pope St. John Paul II said, “Evil, terror, suffering, and death will not have the last word.”  Instead our Lord’s triumph over death, his peace and his mercy will have the last word.  And the graces of our Lord’s triumph, his peace and his mercy, all of these graces, are given to us through His priests.  We can encounter God through our priests.  God used Fr. Grogan and that unknown Argentinian priest in countless ways to reach his sheep and to shepherd them home to heaven.  Fr. Grogan helping that plane full of people at the end of their lives, the Argentinian priest inspiring a young man to consider the priesthood which would ultimately lead to the papacy.  Just two events in two lifetimes of priestly activity.

God is still calling young men to the priesthood.  However, I think that call sometimes gets lost in all the noise of our modern culture.  That call sometimes gets lost in the lack of support young men receive from parents, family, and friends.  So we not only pray for vocations but I think we need to pray that those young men have the time and place and silence to hear our Lord’s call.  In the Old Testament the prophet Elijah heard the voice of the Lord but he only heard the voice in a tiny whispering sound.   He didn’t and couldn’t hear our Lord’s voice in the noise of the world.  He only heard it in the silence. 

On this Good Shepherd Sunday and World day of Prayer for Vocations we pray for God to continue calling shepherds after his own heart, and we pray for those young men to have the support and space,  and time and silence to hear his call.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today we hear of the very first Mass celebrated after the Resurrection.  It’s celebrated on the evening of Easter Sunday.  There is a Liturgy of the Word as Jesus walks with the two disciples  he explains the Old Testament prophesies that refer to Him and there is the Liturgy of the Eucharist celebrated at the home where the two disciples were going to stay for the night.  Jesus is the celebrant of that first post resurrection Mass just as He is the celebrant of every Mass since that first Easter Sunday. 

Now in our Gospel today we heard that the two disciples were prevented from recognizing Jesus.  They were prevented from recognizing Jesus.  Now it’s not as if they forgot what he looked like, it’s only been three days; rather it was their faith that prevented them from seeing Jesus.  Jesus’ presence was veiled.  They lacked faith.  They lacked faith in three ways.  First, they referred to Jesus as a prophet, not as Messiah or God.  The scandal of the Cross was too much; they had hoped that Jesus would redeem Israel.  Second, the news of the empty tomb made no sense to them, just a bunch of hysteria they reasoned.  And third, they did not believe all that the prophets had spoken in the Old Testament, and our Lord rebukes them for that lack of faith, and so he explains. 

For the Liturgy of the Eucharist they go inside and just as he did at the Last Supper, Jesus takes, blesses, breaks, and gives the bread, he gives the Eucharist.  The exact same verbs are used for the Mass at the Last Supper, for the Mass on the Road to Emmaus, and for every Mass since then.  For two millennia Jesus has taken, blessed, broken and given, given the Eucharist.  And it’s at that moment that the disciples’ eyes were opened to the presence of Jesus, they recognized him in the breaking of the bread, and they recognized him in the Eucharist. 

And then he vanishes from their sight.  He vanishes.  Jesus hides himself until the moment He breaks the bread.  Why?  He wants them to see how He will be present to them from now on.  This is how he will be present to them, in the bread, in the Eucharist.  His risen body, blood, soul, and divinity is now present in the Eucharist.  He will be with us in the Eucharist until the end of time.

I have a story about a man who knew Jesus to be present in the Eucharist, his eyes were open, even though veiled by the appearances of bread and wine this man knew in great faith that Jesus was present in the Eucharist.  His name is Mark Ji Tianxiang, he was known to everyone as Ji.  For many years he 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. Later in life 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 19^th 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 19^th century) didn’t understand addiction as a disease. Since Ji kept confessing the same sin, the priest 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, to stop receiving the Eucharist, to stop until he was serious about quitting the opium.  They just had no understanding about addictions in the 19^th 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. So 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. He’d also sit in the church in the presence of the Eucharist.  He couldn’t stay sober, but he could keep showing up.

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. 

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 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

In our Gospel this morning, beginning with Moses, Jesus interpreted for the disciples all that referred to Him in the Old Testament.   In Genesis, Exodus, the Prophets, and the even in the Psalms Jesus is prefigured.  The Old prefigures the New, or we could say that the New is hidden in the Old and the Old is brought to completion in the New.  The connections between the Old and New is Divine providence, it’s not by chance or coincidence.  It’s part of God’s plan.   The Old and the New are always connected. 

In the Old Testament Adam and Eve ate of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil.  And after eating that fruit, their eyes were opened to their sin.  Today we hear of the disciples who eat the Fruit of the new tree of Life, the Cross, and the fruit is Jesus and after they eat of that fruit their eyes are opened to their redemption.  The eyes of St. Mark Ji Tianxiang were totally open to the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.  The Mass kept him connected to Jesus.  It made all the difference. 

My prayer for us today is that we always see Jesus in the Eucharist, although veiled under the appearance of Bread and Wine we see Jesus.  We see Jesus. 

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley