Author: Christine Jordan

Dear Friends,

I begin with a few questions.  Why did Jesus come to us?  Why was he born into humanity?  Why did he become one of us?  He came so that we might see!  Jesus sees the Father always, and Jesus came, he was born, and he became one of us to reveal the Father, whom we can’t see.  But in Jesus’ humanity we can see the Father, as Jesus says in John’s gospel, “He who has seen me has seen the Father” (14:9).  The Christian life is about seeing Jesus and through Him; the Father. 

In our Gospel today we hear of the man born blind.  And that describes each one of us; we were all born into this world, blind, and unable to see the love of the Father through Jesus.  But then, shortly after our birth, we were baptized, made children of the Father, and as we matured we hopefully, learned how to see and love the Father, and to experience the Love of the Father. 

I know of a new Father whose wife gave birth to their first born about a year ago.  And this new Father dearly loves his new baby girl.  And from the moment of her birth, he would just stare at her, staring at her for hours, whether she was asleep or awake just staring at her, studying her face, studying all of her features, memorizing each one of them, the dimples, the fat cheeks, the tiny nose, the perfect little mouth, the beautiful blue eyes and so on.  His whole focus was on her.  The little baby, however, had a hard time focusing.  Like all babies, she stared off everywhere.  But the father continued his loving gaze, just waiting for her to return that look of love.  And she did, her eyes met the eyes of the one who loved her dearly.  She recognized the face of the one who loved her dearly. 

That baby is us sometimes, our eyes going in every other direction except towards Him.  Yet as our Father He is always looking upon us, He knows all of our features.  He knows them all.  He knows the number of hairs on our head.  He wants us to see Him, He wants us to recognize His love, and He wants us to understand that we are his dearly beloved children.  He wants us to see Him, seeing us.  He wants us to recognize how precious we are in His sight, precious not because of what we do, but because of who we are.  We are His beloved.  The Father loves us with the same love with which he loves his eternal son.

Jesus came to show us the Father.  And our end, our goal, is the Father.  We came from the Father and we go back to Him.  Jesus says, “In my Father’s house there are many rooms and I go to prepare a place for you.”  The Father’s love for each one of us is not some general concept, but rather very personal and particular.  And in this room we find a love of great intimacy.  This love of the Father is meant to set us free, free from fear, free from needing to be affirmed or praised or rewarded by others.  The Father’s love is enough. 

During Mass at the elevation of the Sacred Host and Precious Blood, the priest says, “Through Him and with Him and in Him O God Almighty Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit all glory and honor is yours forever and ever.”  Jesus offers himself to the Father and we are there too, offering ourselves to the Father, through Jesus, with Jesus, and in Jesus.  Giving everything to Him, looking to Him, returning that focused look of love. 

Right now we are gifted with the season of Lent, a season to help us refocus our sight on God, prayer, fasting, and giving to the poor re-orients us.  The Sacraments too re-orient us.  We go to the Sacrament of Reconciliation to get our eyes refocused on the Lord, no more staring off after idols.  What is important in your life?  God, Family, Faith, Mass, Eucharist, parish family? 

We heard in the Gospel that the newly sighted man sees Jesus and worships.  May we come back from this season of Lent with perfect vision for what is truly important, with perfect vision for the Father and His great and intimate love for each one of us.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In his first letter to the Corinthians St. Paul, referring to our first reading, said this about the Israelites journey through the desert, “I do not want you to be unaware brothers that our ancestors were all under the cloud and all passed through the sea, and all of them were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea. All ate the same spiritual food, and all drank from a spiritual rock that followed them, and the rock was the Christ.” (1 Corinthians 10: 1-4) In this passage St. Paul refers to baptism symbolized and prefigured by the journey through the parted Red Sea, he refers to the Eucharist symbolized and prefigured by the manna a spiritual food, and he refers to Jesus as the rock, a rock that followed the Israelites through the desert. You probably don’t know this but Jesus was the original rolling stone.

Jesus as the spiritual rock refers to two instances where the Israelites were thirsty and grumbling. They grumbled against God and Moses. God hears their grumbling and he directs Moses to strike the rock once, this first instance is at the base of Mt. Horeb (Sinai) (Exodus 17). When the rock is struck, immediately water gushes forth, satisfying the thirst of the Israelites and their animals.

Now the second instance of where water is produced from a rock takes place at Kadesh (Number 20:2-13). And there God instructs Moses to “speak” to the rock, to say a word to the rock, and bring forth water. Moses only has to speak to the rock to bring forth the water. Just like the priest who says a word to bring forth the Body and Blood of Jesus. But Moses is in a bad way he is annoyed with the grumbling of the Israelites and he is suffering from a lack of faith in God. So instead of just speaking to the rock, to produce the water, he strikes it twice with his staff. Water is produced and it
satisfies the thirst of everyone, but God is not pleased with Moses’ lack of faith.

Now it’s very interesting to note that ancient Jewish rabbis when commenting on the rocks being struck by Moses’ staff teach that not only was water produced, but also blood. According to these ancient Jewish scholars, when the rock was struck both blood and water was produced.

The rock following the Israelites is Jesus prefigured, the rock is predicting Jesus, and fulfilled in Jesus. On the cross, blood and water flowed from his pierced heart, satisfying the thirst of his people for two millennia.
In our Gospel today we find that; Jesus is tired after his journey. So He sits down by the well, thirsty, hungry, and worn out. He was so thirsty that he skirted all social protocol and asked a Samaritan woman to give him a drink – Jewish men at that time just didn’t do that kind of thing. But Jesus’ thirst went much deeper. He was really thirsting to save her soul. His tiredness doesn’t hold back his love for a lost sheep that crosses his path. The Samaritan woman came to the well at noon, the hottest hour of the hot, middle-eastern day. The other women of the village would have come in the cooler hours of early morning and evening. The woman was a social outcast, avoiding contact with her peers. Jesus notices this, seeing in her eyes the anxiety that comes from an unstable life, but he also sees a spark of sincerity – her rocky path through life had worn down any façade of self-righteousness or self-delusion. Her wounded and suffering heart provides an opportunity for grace, and our Lord, forgetting about his own suffering, seizes it, changing her life forever.

And so he asks for a drink but what he is really thirsting for is her brokenness, her pain, her sinfulness, her doubt, and her darkness. He wanted it all. And the Samaritan woman could see that He saw it all and yet he still loved her. She would give Jesus a drink, and in return he would satisfy her thirst with mercy and love.

On the cross, Jesus our rock was pierced. He was struck once and blood and water flowed forth from His Heart. This is the wellspring of our salvation. It’s the grace, the love, the sacraments, the mercy, its everything. It’s the living water of his merciful love flowing always. And only this will truly satisfy us. On the Cross Jesus says, “I thirst.” And the drink we give to him is ourselves, all of our brokenness, darkness, pain, and sin. We give it all to him to satisfy his thirst. And in return the drink he gives to us is his love and mercy, his tenderness and friendship, himself, body, blood, soul, and divinity.

Our Lord says to us today, “I have created you for My Love and My Love alone can satisfy the desires of your heart. Enter then, the wound in my side, take refuge in my pierced side, penetrating even into my heart, drink deeply of the springs of love that will refresh and delight your soul and wash you in preparation for the wedding of your soul with me, for I am the bridegroom of your soul your Savior from all that would defile you, and your God who is love and mercy now and unto the ages of ages.”

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

I want to begin with a lesson in architecture.  This is from a course on the Eucharist which we studied a few years ago.  In that course we learned about the arrangement of the Tabernacle of Moses.  The tabernacle was the portable temple of worship for the Jewish people while they wandered the desert.  God told them exactly how to design it; and later in history the permanent Temple in Jerusalem was arranged in the same way. This Tabernacle of Moses was meant to remind the Jewish people of what had happened on Mt. Sinai.  I hope you don’t get bored.  If you do, offer it up, it’s Lent after all.

The Tabernacle of Moses was divided into three courts.  First, one would enter the Outer Court of Sacrifice, in this space there was a bronze Altar where sheep and goats and oxen were sacrificed.  And next to it there was a bronze laver of water, a bronze basin of water, here the priests would wash before any ceremony could take place.  This outer court recalls what had happened at the base of Mt. Sinai. Moses had constructed a bronze altar and the blood of an animal was sprinkled upon it and the people.  This bloody sacrifice ratified the covenant bond between God and His people.  The Israelites and God became a family, a flesh and blood family.

Second was the Inner Court or the Holy Place.  A veil separated the outer court from the inner court.  This space contained a Golden Altar of incense, where the smoke of the incense as it rose symbolized the Israelites prayers rising to heaven.  There was also a 7 branched Menorah covered in flowers; this represented the Burning Bush that Moses encountered on Mount Sinai.  And last there was a Golden Table of the Bread of Presence. This inner court recalls the middle of Mt. Sinai.  The golden altar of incense and the Menorah recall the smoke and fire in which God descended upon the mountain.  The table of the Bread of Presence recalls the heavenly banquet that Moses, Aaron, Aaron’s two sons and the 70 elders enjoyed in the presence of God.  At that banquet they ate bread and drank wine. 

And finally the third area was the Holy of Holies.  Another veil separated the Holy of Holies from the second inner court.  Here was the Ark of the Covenant which contained the tablets of the Ten Commandments, a jar of Manna, and the Rod of Aaron.  This area could only be entered by the high priest.  To enter the holy of holies was to cross over from earth to heaven.  The Holy of Holies recalls the throne of God at the top of the mountain, and the Holy of Holies is where God was now present to his Jewish people. 

The Tabernacle of Moses was Mt. Sinai in miniature. 

I want to explain a little more about the Altar of the Bread of Presence.  On that golden altar every Sabbath the priest would place 12 loaves of bread along with flagons of wine.  This was an unbloody sacrifice offered to God reminding the people of their covenantal relationship with God, reminding them of the heavenly banquet that Moses, Aaron, his sons, and the 70 elders enjoyed on Mt. Sinai, where they feasted on bread and wine in God’s presence. 

Now the Hebrew word that is translated into the Bread of Presence is sometimes translated into “Bread of the Face.”  The Bread of the Presence is the Bread of the Face.  This is the bread of the face of God.  Now during the first century; Jewish priests had the custom, during Passover, of taking the Bread of Presence (Bread of the Face) out of the inner court and lifting it up to the pilgrims so that the pilgrims could look at the Bread of the Face.  And the priest would say, “Behold God’s love for you!” Looking at the bread, the priest would say to the pilgrims, “Behold God’s love for you!” Imagine the Holy Family coming to Jerusalem for Passover and nearing the Temple looking up to see a priest holding up the Bread, the Bread of the Face, and saying “Behold God’s love for you!” 

Christian Bible scholars often talk about how the New Testament is hidden and prefigured in the Old Testament, and how the Old Testament is fulfilled in the New Testament.  The Eucharist is the fulfillment of the Bread of the Face (Bread of Presence).  So maybe when I hold up the Eucharist I should also say, “Behold God’s love for you!” As we know Jesus is present to us in many ways, present in the Word of Scripture, the prayer of the Church where 2 or 3 are gathered in His name, the poor, the sick, the imprisoned, the sacraments, in the person of the priest, but Jesus is most especially present in the Eucharist, the Sacrament of all sacraments.  The whole of Jesus Christ is present in the Eucharist, really, truly, and substantially present is our Lord’s Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity.

The entrance antiphon for the 2^nd Sunday of Lent is, “It is your face, O Lord that I seek; hide not your face from me.”  Today in our Gospel Peter, James, and John saw our Lord transfigured, all His glory and divinity revealed to them.  His face shone like the sun.  The apostles saw our Lord’s face revealed in all its glory and divinity.  His face was not hidden from them.  And the same is true for us today. Every time we come to Mass, the Eucharist is elevated and it’s like the transfiguration for us 2000 years later.  We see the Eucharistic Face of Jesus.  And the Father says to us, “This is my beloved Son; listen to Him.”

The one Tabernacle of Moses contained earthly bread, only a symbol of the Face of God.  Our tabernacle and all the tabernacles of the world contain the Heavenly Bread, which is the real Face of God.  A saint once wrote, “The Lord’s Holy Eucharistic Face is a light shining in the darkness, let the beauty capture your soul and fill you with a desire for union with Him.”

It is your face Oh Lord that I seek, hide not your face from me.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley 

Dear Friends,

In our second reading St. Paul explains the very core of the Gospel, and he sums up all of human history in just a few sentences.  In the beginning God created the human family in perfect harmony, peace and prosperity.  But Adam, the leader of that family, sinned. And this original sin ruptured that harmony and created a world infected by sin and burdened with conflict, evil, and suffering.  But to all of this Jesus Christ was God’s response.  Helpless to help ourselves, we needed a savior, someone to reverse Adam’s rebellion and reestablish a right relationship between God and man.

Jesus Christ was and is that Savior. And only Jesus could do it, that gap (chasm) between us and God, after the Original Sin was too great for us to bridge.  No amount of prayer or good works on our part could repair that breach.  Only Jesus (both human and divine) could repair that breach.  And he bridged that gap between us and God with his cross. 

As we know Adam disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden, and all of Adam’s descendants have suffered the painful consequences.   Jesus obeyed God the Father in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross at Calvary, and his spiritual descendants have received from him the restoration of righteousness – a right relationship with God.  The gap has been bridged!

And this is something we need to be reminded of, to be reminded of what Christ has done for us, so that we don’t start taking it for granted.

There is a true story about a group of soldiers sitting around the barracks during a break, they are resting and letting off steam.  And during that time off the talk swung around to religion.  One of the soldiers, a fallen-away Catholic, claimed he no longer believed in the Sacrament of confession.  His friends dared him to go to the Catholic chaplain and make a mockery of the sacrament, to prove he didn’t believe in it anymore.  To prove he was done with it all. So he went to the confessional, knelt down, and began. I have taken the Lord’s name in vain a hundred times a day, and I couldn’t care less.  I haven’t been to Mass

in years, and I couldn’t care less.  He went through all the commandments in the same way.  The priest didn’t give the soldier absolution because it was a terrible, irreverent, and sacrilegious confession.   So when the soldier was through, the priest sensing something in the young man, said to him: For your penance, put a crucifix on a table and then, look at the crucifix, really look at Jesus on the crucifix and say, ‘You died for me, and I couldn’t care less.’ Say that five times.  When the soldier came out of the chapel, his friends were waiting for him.  They laughed and jeered, asking what happened. He laughed back, and told them all about it. They were enjoying themselves and insisted that he do the penance, since that was part of confession, and the dare had been to do a full confession.  So they pulled up a table and put a crucifix on it, and the soldier sat down and looked at it, surrounded by his buddies.  But all he could say was, You died for me… He tried and tried, but he just couldn’t get himself to add, and I couldn’t care less.  Tears welled up in his eyes. Finally, he got up and ran back to the chapel to make a real confession.

The Garden of Eden was a paradise, a paradise filled with many trees, that as we heard, were delightful to look at and good for food.  But of all those trees only two of them are named.  The first is the Tree of Life.  Adam and Eve are allowed to eat of this tree; in fact the fruit of this tree would keep them alive forever.  The second is the Tree of the knowledge of good and evil.   Adam and Eve are not allowed to eat the fruit of this tree; because if they do they will die.  But wanting to be like God, they give in to temptation and eat the fruit.  The irony is however, that Adam and Eve were already like God.  They were created in His image and likeness.  As a consequence of the Original Sin Adam and Eve were banished from the garden, no longer able to eat from the Tree of Life.  This was a kindness because God did not want them living forever separated from Him by their sin.  And so they leave the garden, and they do eventually die, and then they wait.  They wait for the new Tree of Life and its fruit. 

Later in Salvation history we come to another garden, another tree and its fruit. 

This new garden is the garden of Calvary, the new tree is a Cross, and the fruit is Jesus.  And to eat of this fruit is to live forever.  The Eucharist is the fruit of the Tree of Life.  Jesus takes on the curses of Adam’s sin, and in the Garden of Calvary he offers himself on the new tree of life, the Cross, and the fruit of this new tree is offered to us in the Eucharist.  And to eat of this fruit is to live forever. 

Looking at that crucifix lying on the table I wonder what went through that soldier’s mind.  He had tried to make a mockery of the Sacrament of Reconciliation, but looking at the Crucifix everything was made clear to him.  Was it something of his childhood faith that he remembered?  Maybe it was something in these lines of a poem about the crucifix. 

You would like to know God?

Look at the crucifix.

You would like to love God?

Look at the crucifix.

You want to be happy with Him forever and forever?

Look at the crucifix.

You wonder what God is and what He is like?

Look at the crucifix.

You wonder what you are and what you are worth?

Look at the crucifix.

You wonder how merciful God is?

Look at the crucifix.

You wonder how much He wants you in Heaven?

Look at the crucifix.

You wonder how much He will help you to get there?

Look at the crucifix.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In today’s Second Reading St. Paul reminds us that hatred not only seeks destruction and harm to the person we hate but it also brings destruction upon us as well.  God dwells in us when we remain in communion with Him living a holy life. In this way, we are his temple.  St. Paul warns us that we would destroy our temples with anger envy or resentment.  Driving God out.   The Catechism of the Catholic Church defines anger as “An emotion which is not in itself wrong, but which, when it is not controlled by reason or hardens into resentment and hate, becomes one of the seven capital sins.” A capital sin is a mortal sin: that means spiritual death.  Anger is the door by which all the other vices get a hold of us.  When we’re angry we act in ways we never would when we’re calm.  We begin to gossip, trade insults, and lie.  We lose our patience and kindness and empathy.  Pride and selfishness take over. 

I have a story about a man who for a time let anger get the best of him.  His name is Moses.  This is not the Moses of Exodus who led the Israelites to freedom, but a different Moses who lived in 4^th century Egypt. He was a big man known for his strength and ferocity.  He had a ferocious anger.  Moses began his life as a servant.  He was not a good servant.  He was a very bad servant.  He was a thief and he constantly stole from his boss.  And when he became a suspect in a murder case the boss told him to leave.  He was fired.  He’d had enough.  He didn’t want a murderer living under his roof.  Once let go from his job Moses turned to a more devoted life of crime.  Moses was a large and imposing figure and wherever he went he brought violence and terror. 

There is the story of him planning the robbery of a very wealthy man.  This wealthy man had a fortress and many guards that protected his wealth.  But Moses had a “fool-proof” plan, or so he thought, of breaking in to steal the treasure.  The plan didn’t work; a dog began to bark alerting the guards to Moses’ presence.  And so he ran.  This failure put him into a rage.  He vowed to come back and try again, not only would he steal from the wealthy man, but he would also murder him.  He was in a great rage.  He was enslaved to his rage and it was driving him to murder.  And so a few weeks later he came back.  Again the dog alerted the guards to Moses presence.  He had totally forgotten the dog.  So he ran and guards gave chase.  Thank God for that dog for Moses’ life was about to change.

To hide from the guards Moses hid within a monastery (near Alexandria Egypt).  It was the closest place to hide.  And there he stayed waiting for things to cool down.  The monks welcomed him and took care of him.  They had no idea he was a wanted criminal.    This kind welcome was something new to Moses and it surprised him.  Nobody had ever welcomed him with such charity. 

The life of the monks impressed Moses.  The dedication of their lives to prayer and honest work as well as their peace and contentment influenced Moses deeply.  He wanted that peace.  He wondered if there just might be a connection between prayer, honest work, and peace.  And so for a time he lived as a monk.  He found that it was a good fit for him.  And so he asked for baptism and then he asked to join the community.  The former murderer and thief was now a monk. 

Moses had been a zealous thief, his dedication to stealing, made him a good thief.  He brought this same zealousness to religious life.  He wanted to be the best monk possible.  But it was hard, he kept slipping, he kept sinning, he kept making mistakes.  He was tempted to discouragement.  He wasn’t perfect enough; he wasn’t growing in holiness as quickly as he would have wanted. 

Sensing his frustration, an older monk one morning took Moses to the roof of the monastery and together they watched the sun rise.  As they watched the first rays of the dawn come over the horizon the old monk said to Moses, “Only slowly do the rays of the sun drive away the night and usher in a new day, and thus only slowly does one become perfect.”  Don’t give up; don’t give into the temptation of discouragement.  He didn’t, he became a Saint.  Moses died at the age of 75 on July 1^st, 405 AD.  Today we know him as St. Moses the Black.  Ironically he was martyred by men who were looting the monastery looking for treasure. 

What to do about anger.  Throughout the past two millennia there have been quite a few saints who struggled with anger.  And they would recommend the following three points. 

1.  Take a break.  Step back, I had a priest once tell me that when anger comes to go and run around the block, maybe even yell into a pillow.  And then go and talk to our Lord. He wants us to talk to Him, to talk to Him in our anger, tell him what we feel, right to his face.  He’s a father and he wants to be involved in our lives, even in the midst of anger.  In all things, we always turn to God, especially when we are feeling less than holy!  Often when we talk to God in our anger we are able to calm down, God restores the peace in our hearts.  St. Jerome, famous for his anger, when he was in the midst of an argument and he knew he had lost his calm, he would take a break, sometimes for as long as two years. He’d go to the desert and pray.   A conversation can always be resumed at a later date after cooler heads prevail. 

2. Listen and focus.  Arguments spiral out of control when we aren’t actually talking to each other.  We instead try to prove the other person wrong and force them to surrender and they do the same to us.  Instead pray for the grace to think through what the other person is trying to say.  Give them a big benefit of the doubt.  Maybe consider that the other person is having a bad day, or just received terrible news, or is dealing with long-term stress. 

3.  Self-Accusation.  This is the hard one.  We examine our self, even if we are right, maybe our method of communication wasn’t effective.  It probably wasn’t.

Remember, we are little souls right now. And little souls they fall, but like little kids when they fall they get up quickly and keep going.  They keep trying, they trust, they know there’s a father close by to pick them up and make it right.  We are little souls right now, we keep trying and we trust.  This is our formula for heaven.  We are little souls, we keep trying and we trust. 

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

Dear Friends,

Each of the lessons taught in today’s Gospel could be expanded into an entire book.  The core of them all, however, is in the heart.  Now certainly, our exterior behavior must follow God’s will. This is what Jesus means when he says, “Do not think I have come to abolish the law…”  But Jesus is trying to tell us that exterior behavior, that appearances, are not enough.   For a true, faithful citizen of Christ’s Kingdom, the attitudes and desires of the heart must also be in harmony with God’s plan for our lives.  This is what Jesus means when he says: “I have come… to fulfill…” – to bring the Old Testament Law to its fulfillment.  Friendship with God (which is what Jesus offers) requires a union of hearts. Our heart united with His.

Christ is explaining the Law from this perspective when he explains the true meaning of sinful anger, lust, and lying.   If God “wills all to be saved” (1Timothy 2:4), how can our friendship with Him be complete when we harbor resentment or contempt towards some people, or tarnish their good name by spreading rumors about them or speaking ill of them?   How can I live in intimacy with a God who loves every man and woman as a father loves his children, when in my heart I desire to use some of them only as an object of pleasure and self-indulgence?  How can I be a true friend of God, when I make promises that I don’t intend to keep?  Some may be satisfied with merely exterior observances; Christ, however, is interested in our hearts as well.  His heart seeks our heart.  His heart wants our heart. 

There was a woman in 17^th century France who as a young girl repeatedly sought our Lord’s loving heart.  She wrote in her autobiography, “All my desire was to seek happiness and comfort Him,” and in front of the tabernacle she would meditate on our Lord’s great loving heart.  The woman’s name was Margaret Mary Alacoque.  She was born in 1647 and when she was eight years old her father died making it necessary for her older sister and her older sister’s husband to take charge of the family’s business and household.  This was bad for Margaret because from this point on she was treated little better than a slave.  It was during this time that she repeatedly sought the peace of our Lord housed in the Church’s tabernacle.  However, as it was quite a distance away from home, she was rarely allowed out to go to the church.  They didn’t believe that she was going to pray.  “Oh sure you’re going off to pray,” they would say.  They thought it was an excuse to go off and meet some boy or some other mischief.  As she got older there was extreme pressure for her to marry and move out.  But she refused all offers of marriage.  Finally, at the age of twenty four with the financial help of an older brother she was able to enter the Visitation Convent. 

Her first days at the convent were not easy.  She was described as quiet, slow, and clumsy.  However, two years after joining the convent, she was blessed by our Lord on December 27^th, 1673. On that day she received her first private revelation, an encounter with the Risen Lord.  She was alone kneeling before the Blessed Sacrament exposed on the altar, and all at once she felt herself, as she said, invested by the divine Presence and she heard our Lord inviting her to take the place which St. John had occupied at the Last Supper.   It was St. John’s feast day after all.  And she was to rest her head upon His heart.  Our Lord told her that the love of His heart must be made known to all men and women.  Margaret Mary was to be His instrument in getting the message out about the infinite love of His Sacred Heart.   During the next eighteen months our Lord continued to appear to Margaret Mary explaining and developing the first revelation. 

This devotion to the Sacred Heart of Jesus was revealed at the height of the Jansenist movement.   Jansenists saw God as harsh and not all loving and not merciful.  These revelations given to St. Margaret Mary reminded the Church that Christ, though the second person of the Trinity, was a true man of flesh and blood, and possessed, therefore, a human heart, but a human heart that knows how to love perfectly. He loves in a perfectly human way.   It was the love of Jesus for His heavenly Father and for all of us which motivated every action of His life, especially His redemptive act of sacrifice on the Cross.  Jesus wants us to be at home in His heart.  It was pierced so that we might enter and make whole and soften and purify our own hearts.

Now in the Gospel Jesus is very practical about what can corrupt our hearts. He identifies anger, lust, and dishonesty as hidden viruses capable of damaging, and even destroying, our integrity, our very souls.  But if we are honest with ourselves, all of us will have to admit that we struggle with temptation in each of these areas.  So what are we to do?  When Jesus looks at our hearts, He does not look away. No! He comes with the medicine of his grace to cure us.  He wants us to drink deeply of the spring of water and blood that flow from His Heart.  Let yourself be generous in receiving that grace. 

“If you choose,” the Book of Sirach tells us, “you can keep the commandments; they will save you.”  Every day of our lives, we remain free to choose which thoughts and actions we will commit to, godly ones, or selfish ones.  When a lustful thought flashes through our minds, we don’t have to accept it – we can reject it and turn to Jesus and Mary instead.  When selfish anger boils up in our hearts, we don’t have to let it rule our lives – we can turn to Christ on the cross and learn from him how to turn the other cheek.  When we are tempted to get ahead by compromising the truth, we can hold our tongues and cling to Sirach’s promise:   “Before man are life and death, good and evil, whichever he chooses shall be given him.”

Jesus wants us to choose life, a fulfilling life here on earth and eternal life with him in Heaven, by choosing to reject temptation and follow him.  During this Mass, he will give us the grace we need to make that choice, every day. Let’s thank him for that, and put his grace to good use. 

At Mass you are standing before the Good and merciful and loving Heart wounded Jesus.  You are standing before the open Heart of Jesus and he says to each of us, “Give me that anger, give me that lust, give me that dishonesty, and give me that pride.  Give me all your sin, give it up to me, put it right into my heart and I will take care of it.”  Choose life and good, drink deeply from the springs of love that will refresh and delight and strengthen your soul.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Every single one of us is called by Christ to be a leader, in some way or another.  This very simply means we are all called to have a positive influence on others, on those around us.  Maybe some of us can have a wider influence, because a special God-given talent or an important position in society gives us a wider reach.  But every one of us has some kind of reach: within our family, within our circle of friends, classmates, coworkers, or within our community or country.

We are not just isolated, single-cell organisms.  We are members of a Divine Body.  This membership into Christ was brought about by baptism and is constantly renewed and strengthened by the Eucharist.  St. John Chrysostom asked the question:  What is the bread?  And then he answered, it is the Body of Jesus Christ.  And what do those who receive it become?  They become the body of Jesus Christ, not many bodies, but one body.  We are not isolated single persons, all alone.   We are members of a Divine Body.  And Jesus is reminding us today, energetically, that we are called to be salt and light in every one of those relationships – to share with others the meaning, the hope, the forgiveness, and the goodness we ourselves have received from the Lord.

So how do we do it?    How do we exercise this Christian leadership, this influence of salt and light?  Jesus makes it clear that the first and foremost way of being the leaders we are called to be is through our personal example.  “…Your light must shine before others,” he explains, “that they may see your good deeds and glorify your heavenly Father.”

Today at St. Joseph’s its Scout Sunday.  Our Troop is Troop 325.  Now the number 325 just happens to be one of my favorite numbers.  It’s the same number we used at my Seminary to get into the building.  There was a code we had to punch in at each outer door so as to get inside.  And that number was 325.  Why is that my favorite number?

Now my seminary rector chose 325 because that is the date of the Annunciation, March 25^th.  That’s the date Jesus was conceived and began growing within the womb of his Mother Mary.  It’s the very first moment he became human, and his mother formed him.  Now I just said that we are members of the body of Christ.  So in a very real mystical sense we share in our Lord’s conception.  A reason we look to the Blessed Virgin Mary’s help in forming us into a Christian, forming us into a little Jesus.  She has the experience. 

Now one member of the mystical Body of Jesus who was salt and light and has a special connection to scouts is St. George.  He is the patron saint of Scouts and Scouting organizations.  St. George was born in the latter half of the 3^rd century.  His dad was a high ranking Roman soldier and his mom was from Greece.  Both of them were of noble birth and both were Christians.  George right from the beginning was raised in a Christian household.

When George was old enough, he joined the army.  He was a very good soldier and by the time he was almost 30 he became an imperial guard for the emperor.  Only the best soldiers were Imperial Guards.  On February 24, 303 A.D. Diocletian, who had no love for Christians, announced that every Christian the army encountered would be arrested and in addition to this, to prove their loyalty to the State, all soldiers would have to offer sacrifice to the Roman gods.  This would prove that they were a good citizen. 

George refused the order and he even told Diocletian he would not obey.  This really angered Diocletian.  It may seem odd but Diocletian was a friend of George’s family and so he tried to overlook George’s Christianity and disobedience.  But when George went public with his Christianity and his beliefs, Diocletian could no longer keep the information to himself.  And in an effort to save George, Diocletian attempted to convert him to belief in the Roman gods, he offered him land, money, and slaves in exchange for offering just a small sacrifice to the Roman gods.  Just be quiet about your Christianity, he said to George.  Be a Christian in private, offer a sacrifice to the State gods and you’ll be safe.  George would have none of it.  “I’m a Christian through and through, not just at home,” he said.

Finally, after exhausting all other options, Diocletian ordered George’s torture and execution.  In preparation for his death George gave all his money to the poor.  On April 23, 303 A.D., George was decapitated.  Today he is honored as a martyr and is known as one of the 14 Holy Helpers, the Holy Helpers were a group of very popular saints in the Middle Ages. 

If God is calling each of us to be salt and light, calling us to make a real, everlasting difference in the lives of others, then it must be possible for us to do it.

But how?

Today’s First Reading gives a starting list of possibilities: 

¨ “Share your bread with the hungry,

¨ shelter the oppressed and the homeless;

¨ clothe the naked when you see them,

¨ and do not turn your back on your own.”

¨ These correspond to some of the traditional corporal, or material, works of mercy.

We can find another list of possibilities in the traditional spiritual works of mercy:

¨ comforting the sorrowful, 

¨ instructing the ignorant, 

¨ admonishing sinners, 

¨ counseling the doubtful,  

¨ praying for the living and the dead, 

¨ bearing wrongs patiently, 

¨ and forgiving injuries.

Certainly, during this Mass the Holy Spirit will translate these general ideas into some very practical possibilities in the heart of each one of us.

But the Holy Spirit is extremely polite.  He doesn’t want us to be his slaves; he wants us to be his friends.  And so, even though he will inspire good ideas, he will not force us to carry them out.  He leaves us free to say yes or no.  Let’s allow the beauty and the power of this Mass to give us the courage we need this week to fulfill our life-mission just a little bit better than we did last week, being salt and light for a confused and broken world.  We are members of a Divine Body nourished by our Lord’s Body and Blood.  Don’t hide that. 

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

Dear Friends,

On August 2, 1707 Mount Vesuvius erupted.  Early in the morning the volcano had begun throwing out dense clouds of smoke and ash.  By mid-day these clouds had thickened and spread to such an extent that the sun was hid from view, and the town of Naples was plunged into darkness.  It was as dark as a winter night.  The only light that was visible was the glare of the flames coming from the crater at the top of the mountain.  There were also streams of boiling lava flowing down the side of the mountain.  And the noise of non-stop thunder added to the terror of the inhabitants of the city below.   It was feared that the burning ashes would set fire to the houses, if even they escaped being buried altogether like that of Pompeii. 

At that time most of the residents of Naples were Catholic, and they knew their only hope was prayer.  The whole city made their way to the tomb of the town patron, St. Januarius.  His intercession was answered very quickly by God, a miracle.  In just a few moments the eruption was over, the lava stopped flowing and there was no more ash.  The darkness vanished, and the sun shined brightly in a cloudless sky.  One moment it was very dark and the next it was very light.

Forty days after his birth Jesus is presented in the Temple.  Simeon an old Jewish man had received a promise that before dying he would see the Christ.  He’d lived his whole life in a darkened fallen world.  But then in a moment of time he sees the promised light, one minute it’s the darkness of a fallen world and the next its divine light.     And he is so overjoyed he breaks out into a song, a canticle.  Looking into the face of the infant Jesus he sings out, “Lord, now you let your servant go in peace; your word has been fulfilled:  my own eyes have seen the salvation which you have prepared in the sight of every people:  a light to reveal you to the nations and the glory of your people Israel.”  And the Church prays this same canticle every night before going to bed.  Reminding herself that God keeps His promises, his light shines. 

Thirty three years late, after that presentation in the temple, on a hill outside the gates of Jerusalem Jesus hangs upon a cross crucified, he’s beaten, bruised, and bloodied.  And next to him is a crucified criminal and he too, like Simeon, looks into the face of Jesus and sees that very same light.  He sees beyond the ugliness of crucifixion into the Divine.  After a life of robbery and murder, a life of dark sin, a very dark life, he sees the Divine light.  It’s a moment of conversion.  One moment it is very dark, and the next it is very light. 

Now on that hill the devil is present as well.  But when he looks at Jesus he doesn’t see the Divine, he doesn’t see the light.  He sees only a naked, beaten, bruised, and bloodied man.  He doesn’t see the hidden divinity.  In a sense he is saying to Jesus, “In a very short time you’ll be mine.  There is no escape from death.”  A very dark moment, but the darkness of that Good Friday is followed by the light of Easter Sunday.  Death is conquered; it doesn’t have the final word.  Darkness has not overcome the light.  One moment its very dark and next its very light.

For Christmas I received this icon of Jesus in a boat with two of his apostles.  The tiny boat is surrounded by big dark, choppy, and stormy waves of water.  One apostle cowers in the front of the boat, he’s very frightened.  The other apostle stands looking at Jesus with his arms open imploring Jesus to help them.  He seems to be saying, “Do something Lord!  We are perishing!”  “Wake up!” And there is Jesus at the back of the boat sound asleep, very peaceful.  I was given this icon as a reminder that Jesus is always present, His light is always present.  Even in the midst of a storm, he is present.  Darkness has not overcome the light.  One author put it this way, “Jesus, you are there:  nothing, nothing happens, not a hair falls from our heads, without your permission.  I have no right to worry.  Perhaps He is sleeping in the boat, but He is there.  He is always there.  He is all powerful; nothing escapes His vigilance.  He watches over each one of us.  He is all love, all tenderness.” 

Our Lord’s light is always present, it can be found at the baptismal font, in the confessional, in the tabernacle, in the baptized souls of those around us, and in prayer.  May we have the faith of the people of Naples in 1707, the faith of Simeon, and the faith of the good thief.  Knowing always that darkness has not overcome the light, and it never will.    Good Friday darkness is always followed by Easter light!

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

From a homily by Saint John Chrysostom , bishop

For love of Christ, Paul bore every burden

Paul, more than anyone else, has shown us what man really is, and in what our nobility consists, and of what virtue this particular animal is capable. Each day he aimed ever higher; each day he rose up with greater ardor and faced with new eagerness the dangers that threatened him. He summed up his attitude in the words: I forget what is behind me and push on to what lies ahead. When he saw death imminent, he bade others share his joy: Rejoice and be glad with me! And when danger, injustice and abuse threatened, he said: I am content with weakness, mistreatment and persecution. These he called the weapons of righteousness, thus telling us that he derived immense profit from them.

Thus, amid the traps set for him by his enemies, with exultant heart he turned their every attack into a victory for himself; constantly beaten, abused and cursed, he boasted of it as though he were celebrating a triumphal procession and taking trophies home, and offered thanks to God for it all: Thanks be to God who is always victorious in us! This is why he was far more eager for the shameful abuse that his zeal in preaching brought upon him than we are for the most pleasing honours, more eager for death than we are for life, for poverty than we are for wealth; he yearned for toil far more than others yearn for rest after toil. The one thing he feared, indeed dreaded, was to offend God; nothing else could sway him. Therefore, the only thing he really wanted was always to please God.

The most important thing of all to him, however, was that he knew himself to be loved by Christ. Enjoying this love, he considered himself happier than anyone else; were he without it, it would be no satisfaction to be the friend of principalities and powers. He preferred to be thus loved and be the least of all, or even to be among the damned, than to be without that love and be among the great and honored.

To be separated from that love was, in his eyes, the greatest and most extraordinary of torments; the pain of that loss would alone have been hell, and endless, unbearable torture. So too, in being loved by Christ he thought of himself as possessing life, the world, the angels, present and future, the kingdom, the promise and countless blessings. Apart from that love nothing saddened or delighted him; for nothing earthly did he regard as bitter or sweet.

Paul set no store by the things that fill our visible world, any more than a man sets value on the withered grass of the field. As for tyrannical rulers or the people enraged against him, he paid them no more heed than gnats. Death itself and pain and whatever torments might come were but child’s play to him, provided that thereby he might bear some burden for the sake of Christ.

From a sermon by Saint Augustine, bishop
The Voice is John, the Word is Christ

John is the voice, but the Lord is the Word who was in the beginning. John is the voice that lasts for a time; from the beginning Christ is the Word who lives forever. Take away the word, the meaning, and what is the voice? Where there is no understanding, there is only a meaningless sound. The voice without the word strikes the ear but does not build up the heart.

However, let us observe what happens when we first seek to build up our hearts. When I think about what I am going to say, the word or message is already in my heart. When I want to speak to you, I look for a way to share with your heart what is already in mine.

In my search for a way to let this message reach you, so that the word already in my heart may find a place also in yours, I use my voice to speak to you. The sound of my voice brings the meaning of the word to you and then passes away. The word which the sound has brought to you is now in your heart, and yet it is still also in mine.

When the word has been conveyed to you, does not the sound seem to say: The word ought to grow, and I should diminish? The sound of the voice has made itself heard in the service of the word, and has gone away, as though it were saying: My joy is complete. Let us hold on to the word; we must not lose the word conceived inwardly in our hearts.

Do you need proof that the voice passes away but the divine Word remains? Where is John’s baptism today? It served its purpose, and it went away. Now it is Christ’s baptism that we celebrate. It is in Christ that we all believe; we hope for salvation in him. This is the message the voice cried out.

Because it is hard to distinguish word from voice, even John himself was thought to be the Christ. The voice was thought to be the word. But the voice acknowledged what is was, anxious not to give offense to the word. I am not the Christ, he said, nor Elijah, nor the prophet. And the question came: Who are you, then? He replied: I am the voice of one crying in the wilderness: Prepare the way for the Lord.

The voice of one crying in the wilderness is the voice of one breaking the silence. Prepare the way for the Lord, he says, as though he were saying: “I speak out in order to lead him into your hearts, but he does not choose to come where I lead him unless you prepare the way for him.”

To prepare the way means to pray well; it means thinking humbly of oneself. We should take our lesson from John the Baptist. He is thought to be the Christ; he declares he is not what they think. He does not take advantage of their mistake to further his own glory.

If he had said, “I am the Christ,” you can imagine how readily he would have been believed, since they believed he was the Christ even before he spoke. But he did not say it; he acknowledged what he was. He pointed out clearly who he was; he humbled himself.

He saw where his salvation lay. He understood that he was a lamp, and his fear was that it might be blown out by the wind of pride.