Category: Pastor’s Corner

Dear Friends,

I recently read an old story entitled, “The three Godfathers.”  It was written in 1912 by Peter Kyne.  It takes place in the desert of Southwest United States during that “Wild West” period of history.  It begins just a few days before Christmas and four men are robbing a bank.  But before escaping with the money one is shot dead and another is wounded in the shoulder.  They lose the stolen money but the three remaining men escape into the desert.  They have very little water.

At first these three men are not identified by name, they have no humanity.  They’re only known as The Worst Bad Man, The Wounded Bad Man, and The Youngest Bad Man.  They are in trouble, they need water and so they make their way to a known water hole.  It takes them a whole day to get there and when they arrive they are greeted by a dying woman in the back of a covered wagon.  She is pregnant and about to give birth.  Plus there is no water; the watering hole is totally empty.

With the three men’s help the woman gives birth to a baby boy.  And knowing that she’s not going to survive she asks them to take her baby to a little town called New Jerusalem.  There are relatives there that can care for the baby she says.  It would be a 3 day journey through the desert.  After much discussion the men promise to deliver the child to safety.  The dying woman then asks for their names.  The worst bad man is Tom, the wounded bad man is Bill and the youngest bad man is Bob.  “I’m going to name by baby after the three of you,” she says.  His name is Robert William Thomas.  She then asks, “Will all three of you be my Baby’s Godfather?” They answer yes and with that peace of mind the woman soon dies.

The men search the wagon and find baby clothes, condensed milk and a Bible.  Ready, they now begin their trek through the desert and at the same time they begin their conversion.  The baby becomes their priority.  He gets the water.  It’s not about them.  It’s about the baby.  While resting at the hottest part of each day they read the Bible and are drawn back to the faith of their childhoods.  They are drawn by grace, they remember.

At the end of the first day the wounded man, Bill, succumbs to the hostile desert.  On the second day the worst man, Tom, succumbs to the hostile desert.  Both die contrite and reconciled.  The third day the youngest man, Bob, is very close to New Jerusalem.  He stumbles and falls many times but each time he manages to keep the baby safe.  He has a hard time seeing and thinking.  It’s so very hard!  He eventually stumbles into town.  He finds a woman and hands her the baby, safe and sound.  He then collapses at her feet.  He too dies contrite and reconciled.  It is Christmas day.

Those three bad men were saved by a little baby.  A baby saved them.  That baby reminded them of their humanity, reminded them of goodness and selflessness and love.  Through a little baby God drew the three men back to Himself.

It’s Christmas and through a baby God draws us back to Himself, to draw us into His love.  The early Church Fathers talked and preached often of the incarnation of Jesus. And when speaking of God becoming man they spoke and taught of the great exchange. The great exchange is this:  “God became man that we might become God.”  We give Him our humanity through our singular boast the Blessed Virgin Mary and He in return gives us His Divinity.  That we might live in the midst of Divine love.

Bishop Barron wrote a book entitled, “The strangest way, walking the Christian Path.”  And in that book he writes of a conversation he had with an elderly theologian by the name of Godfrey Dickman.  Barron asked him, “What would you fight for in the Church today, what would you make people aware of?”  He said, “Deification, becoming divine.  The entire purpose of the Christian life is not simply to make us better people, but to make us divine to conform us to a participation the very life of the Blessed Trinity.  We will not be mere spectators in Heaven; we will live within the midst of the love of the Trinity.  God became man that we might become God. 

Because Jesus is divine, time and place cannot contain Him.  He is not confined to the Middle East of 2000 years ago.  Every Mass makes present to us, as if by time machine, our Lord’s incarnation, life, passion, death and resurrection.  We might say that every Mass is Christmas and Easter all rolled into one.

During the Eucharistic prayer I call upon the Holy Spirit as I hold my hands over the bread and wine.  This calls to mind the Annunciation where Mary was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit and Jesus was conceived.  He began life as a man.  And while my hands are held over the bread and wine I will pray:   “Be pleased, O God, we pray, to bless, acknowledge, and approve this offering in every respect; make it spiritual and acceptable, so that it may become for us the Body and Blood of your most beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.”  This is the incarnation, made present to us now in the 21^st century, God becomes Body and Blood, and this is Christmas, right there on the altar.  And then we receive Him, body, blood, soul, and divinity.  To receive him is to live in His divine love.

To come to Mass every day would be to celebrate Christmas every day. God always wants to share all that He is with us. At that first Christmas 2000 years ago, and every day since, God has been making a proposal to us.  Through his son Jesus he is saying to each and every one of us:  “You give me your humanity, I will give you my divinity.  You give me your time, I will give you eternity.  You give me your bonds; I will give you my omnipotence. You give me your slavery; I will give you my freedom.  You give me your death; I will give you my life.  You give me your nothingness; I will give you my all.”

“The Son of God became man so that man might become God”.  We are saved by a little baby.

The best Christmas gift ever.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

I recently read an old story entitled, “The three Godfathers.”  It was written in 1912 by Peter Kyne.  It takes place in the desert of Southwest United States during that “Wild West” period of history.  It begins just a few days before Christmas and four men are robbing a bank.  But before escaping with the money one is shot dead and another is wounded in the shoulder.  They lose the stolen money but the three remaining men escape into the desert.  They have very little water.

At first these three men are not identified by name, they have no humanity.  They’re only known as The Worst Bad Man, The Wounded Bad Man, and The Youngest Bad Man.  They are in trouble, they need water and so they make their way to a known water hole.  It takes them a whole day to get there and when they arrive they are greeted by a dying woman in the back of a covered wagon.  She is pregnant and about to give birth.  Plus there is no water; the watering hole is totally empty.

With the three men’s help the woman gives birth to a baby boy.  And knowing that she’s not going to survive she asks them to take her baby to a little town called New Jerusalem.  There are relatives there that can care for the baby she says.  It would be a 3 day journey through the desert.  After much discussion the men promise to deliver the child to safety.  The dying woman then asks for their names.  The worst bad man is Tom, the wounded bad man is Bill and the youngest bad man is Bob.  “I’m going to name by baby after the three of you,” she says.  His name is Robert William Thomas.  She then asks, “Will all three of you be my Baby’s Godfather?” They answer yes and with that peace of mind the woman soon dies.

The men search the wagon and find baby clothes, condensed milk and a Bible.  Ready, they now begin their trek through the desert and at the same time they begin their conversion.  The baby becomes their priority.  He gets the water.  It’s not about them.  It’s about the baby.  While resting at the hottest part of each day they read the Bible and are drawn back to the faith of their childhoods.  They are drawn by grace, they remember.

At the end of the first day the wounded man, Bill, succumbs to the hostile desert.  On the second day the worst man, Tom, succumbs to the hostile desert.  Both die contrite and reconciled.  The third day the youngest man, Bob, is very close to New Jerusalem.  He stumbles and falls many times but each time he manages to keep the baby safe.  He has a hard time seeing and thinking.  It’s so very hard!  He eventually stumbles into town.  He finds a woman and hands her the baby, safe and sound.  He then collapses at her feet.  He too dies contrite and reconciled.  It is Christmas day.

Those three bad men were saved by a little baby.  A baby saved them.  That baby reminded them of their humanity, reminded them of goodness and selflessness and love.  Through a little baby God drew the three men back to Himself.

It’s Christmas and through a baby God draws us back to Himself, to draw us into His love.  The early Church Fathers talked and preached often of the incarnation of Jesus. And when speaking of God becoming man they spoke and taught of the great exchange. The great exchange is this:  “God became man that we might become God.”  We give Him our humanity through our singular boast the Blessed Virgin Mary and He in return gives us His Divinity.  That we might live in the midst of Divine love.

Bishop Barron wrote a book entitled, “The strangest way, walking the Christian Path.”  And in that book he writes of a conversation he had with an elderly theologian by the name of Godfrey Dickman.  Barron asked him, “What would you fight for in the Church today, what would you make people aware of?”  He said, “Deification, becoming divine.  The entire purpose of the Christian life is not simply to make us better people, but to make us divine to conform us to a participation the very life of the Blessed Trinity.  We will not be mere spectators in Heaven; we will live within the midst of the love of the Trinity.  God became man that we might become God. 

Because Jesus is divine, time and place cannot contain Him.  He is not confined to the Middle East of 2000 years ago.  Every Mass makes present to us, as if by time machine, our Lord’s incarnation, life, passion, death and resurrection.  We might say that every Mass is Christmas and Easter all rolled into one.

During the Eucharistic prayer I call upon the Holy Spirit as I hold my hands over the bread and wine.  This calls to mind the Annunciation where Mary was overshadowed by the Holy Spirit and Jesus was conceived.  He began life as a man.  And while my hands are held over the bread and wine I will pray:   “Be pleased, O God, we pray, to bless, acknowledge, and approve this offering in every respect; make it spiritual and acceptable, so that it may become for us the Body and Blood of your most beloved Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.”  This is the incarnation, made present to us now in the 21^st century, God becomes Body and Blood, and this is Christmas, right there on the altar.  And then we receive Him, body, blood, soul, and divinity.  To receive him is to live in His divine love.

To come to Mass every day would be to celebrate Christmas every day. God always wants to share all that He is with us. At that first Christmas 2000 years ago, and every day since, God has been making a proposal to us.  Through his son Jesus he is saying to each and every one of us:  “You give me your humanity, I will give you my divinity.  You give me your time, I will give you eternity.  You give me your bonds; I will give you my omnipotence. You give me your slavery; I will give you my freedom.  You give me your death; I will give you my life.  You give me your nothingness; I will give you my all.”

“The Son of God became man so that man might become God”.  We are saved by a little baby.

The best Christmas gift ever.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Cardinal Dolan of New York City tells a story from his younger days when he was studying in Washington D.C.  He said that during that time he would sometimes have the privilege of assisting at the Gift of Peace House, it was a hospice for dying AIDS patients.  This house was run by Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity.  On Good Friday, 1989, Fr. Dolan was celebrant of the Liturgy of the Lord’s Passion for the sisters, volunteers, and the patients.  After everyone had venerated the cross, two sisters led Fr. Dolan upstairs so that the patients confined to their beds could also kiss the feet of Our Lord on the Cross.

As he went from bed to bed, he noticed one emaciated man in the corner who seemed agitated, and kept beckoning for him to come to his corner bed.  As he began to approach the man’s bed, the sister grabbed him, and stopped him, warning him that the man was unusually violent, hateful to everyone, and had actually attempted to bite the attending sister a number of times.  So filled with rage was this man that with his biting he was trying to infect other people with HIV.  However, the poor man kept signaling for Fr. Dolan to come near.  “What was I to do” he thought?  What would any priest do?  So slowly and cautiously he approached, and carefully extended the crucifix, which the man grasped and kissed, not the feet, but the face of the crucified Lord.  He then lay back down, very exhausted.

The next day, Holy Saturday, the sister called to tell Fr. Dolan that the same man had asked for him.  So he went, and, again, in company with two of the sisters as his “bodyguards,” he approached the man.  As Fr. Dolan got nearer the man whispered, “I want to be baptized!”  Fr. Dolan moved a few inches closer and asked, if the man could explain why he desired to enter the Church.  “I know nothing about Christianity or the Catholic Church,” the man said, “In fact, I’ve hated religion my whole life.  All I do know, is that for the three months that I’ve been here dying these sisters are always happy!”  When I curse them, they look at me with compassion.  Even when they clean up my vomit, bathe my sores, and change my diapers, they are smiling; when they spoon-feed me, there’s a radiance in their eyes.  All I know is that they have joy and I don’t.  When I ask them in desperation why they are so happy, all they answer is Jesus.  I want this Jesus.  Baptize me and give me this Jesus! Give me joy!

Fr. Dolan baptized him, confirmed him, and gave him his first holy communion.  The man died a few hours later on Easter Sunday.  Because of the witness of true Christian joy a soul was saved.  So what is this joy and how do we find it?  First let me begin by saying what joy is not.  Joy is not giggly, unrealistic and Pollyannaish.   True joy, is a fruit of the Holy Spirit, is realistic, responsible, prudent, deep, and reasonable.  And this joy can even be present in the midst of sorrow.

So how do we find this joy?  This joy comes first from the knowledge that God loves you.  The first step is the recognition of God’s overwhelming love for you.  His love for you is personal, ecstatic, and infinite.  He’s interested in every detail of your life.  There can be no one so ugly, there can be no one so tragic, and there can be on one so miserable as not to be loved by God.  And that is something extraordinary!  To have the profound conviction that God loves me can cause nothing but joy.

This joy comes second, from the belief that God actually dwells within your soul through the gift of sanctifying grace.  God loves you so passionately that he actually dwells within your soul.  He will never extinguish that life, only we can do that, but it can be restored in the confessional.

This joy comes third from trust, a hope in Divine Providence.  It’s our rock-sure belief that the Lord is omnipotent, everything is in His fatherly hands, Jesus has conquered sin, Satan, and death.  He will bring good out of tragedy, he’s not the cause of tragedy, but he can bring good out of it, we may not understand it, we may be tempted to doubt, we may be tempted to run away in disbelief, but to trust in His Providence can give rise to joy, can give rise to a tranquility, a peace, that no sorrow can dispel.  So if you want to grow in trust; do this at the end of the day, first, thank God for all the blessing received that day, and second, praise Him.  Could be as simple as praying, “I praise you Lord, all glory and honor is yours.”

And fourthly the final font of joy is prayer.

The language of trust in God is prayer.   The Catechism writes that personal prayer

strengthens trust and hope.  We bring him all our unhappiness, our worries and our anxieties.  In prayer we give them to the Lord leaving them to his care.  At Mass put them directly into the chalice on the altar.  Put all your fears, anxieties, sorrows right into the chalice.  We can approach him with anything.  And if we lack in faith, or trust, or joy we ask for it, we pray for it.  How good God is to allow us to call him Father, to be able to bring him anything and everything.

Joy comes from, 1^st:  God loves me

2^nd:  God dwells within me.  Got God in my Soul!

3^rd:  Trust

4^th:  Prayer

Today we celebrate Gaudete Sunday and Gaudete means rejoice.  The Church directs all of us to rejoice because “the Lord is near.”  But as we know some of our hearts are burdened by sorrow, anxiety, and suffering.  And yet, we are still called to “rejoice” not only because “the Lord is near” as we prepare Christmas and the coming of the Prince of Peace, but also because our faith assures us that the Lord is present with us, here and now, especially to those in the midst of suffering.  Our Lord is with us through it all, and gives us the assurance that His Peace will always prevail over sorrow, anxiety, and suffering.  His peace has the last word.

There is a lot of fear, and hate, and hurt in this world.  My prayer for us is that our faith and our true joy, like the Missionaries of Charity, can be a route of conversion for the world.  I end with what St. Paul tells us in the second reading and this is from a man who was shipwrecked, starved, stoned, and beaten yet with all these hardships he tells us, “Rejoice in the Lord always.  I shall say it again:  rejoice!  The peace of God that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Fairy tales usually begin something like this, “Once upon a time there was a princess or a frog, or an ugly duckling…”, or they might begin, “A long, long time ago there lived a widower, or a woodcutter, or an old lady…” No precise details are ever given about the date or the time in which the fairy tale takes place. Nor are we told where the action is happening. The story usually takes place in a land far far away. Time and place play no great part. Fairy tales tell a story, usually a story about fundamental human experiences, they don’t tell history.

It’s quite a different thing with today’s Gospel. Today’s Gospel is reporting history; it’s not just telling a story. It talks about a particular moment in the history of the world; it talks about a particular place in the history of the world. It doesn’t speak in generalities it doesn’t speak of a time long long ago or of a place far far away, but it speaks of an exact date and place.

The fifteenth year of the reign of the Emperor Tiberius was the year A.D. 28. At that time, Pontius Pilate was the Roman governor of Judea; Herod the Great’s two hated sons, both immoral and equally cruel, were local princes. Now for us these are probably just names. But for first century Jews there is an agonizing history of oppression behind these names. They were a ruthless, hateful, and violent group of men. And then we have the two high priests, Annas and Caiaphas, who are known to us from Jesus’ trial, they have corrupted the Temple. They’ve turned the Temple, which should be a place of prayer, into a political battlefield for power.

The year 28 was not a good year; things were not looking rosy and peaceful. For the first century Jew these were bad times filled with affliction, poverty, and hardship.  It was a struggle to survive. But then in the year 28 God intervened in the history of mankind. The word of God was spoken to John in the desert. God didn’t speak to the high and mighty, the ones who oppress. This is judgment against them. God spoke to John, a humble man outside the political and religious system. He’s not a part of the palace or the Temple.

As we heard, “The word of God came to John.” God intervenes in history by calling men and women. And whenever men and women answer his call, God can work great things through them. So it was with someone like Francis of Assisi, or Mother Teresa. They heard God’s call and they obeyed. But we might ask ourselves, “How did those people hear God’s call?” How did they know that is wasn’t something they just imagined, just a self-deception? After all God doesn’t call us up on the phone. How can His voice be distinguished from all the babble of voices and noises around us.

God’s call went out to John “in the desert.” In order for God to speak to us, we must hear him. That makes sense. We must hear him. But in order to hear, we need a certain degree of quiet. That’s why John was in the desert, the silence there is so complete that one’s heart is quieted and it starts to hear. In our world today, silence has become a rare thing. That’s why it’s so important that churches be kept open during the day. Anyone looking for peace in the middle of a hectic day will find it in the space of God’s house, saturated as it is with prayer. Many people find that God speaks to their hearts in this space. They come to an inner clarity; they find consolation and help in making decisions. If peace then comes into our hearts, and it’s consistent with our Catholic faith and morals, we can be sure that it comes from God.

What did God say to John in the desert? Above all God gave John words of hope. And in return John was to give his people, and us, words of hope. He was to prepare the way for the Lord, what was crooked would be made straight, any difficulties would be cleared away, the valleys filled and the mountains leveled. John’s job was to build the highway that would help the arrival of our Lord.

John speaks to his people and to us saying, the world of Tiberius, Pilot, and Caiaphas has stunted our hope, the world has stunted our hope, so hope against all hope, because you are remembered by God, because you are remembered by God. God will act so prepare yourself. Prepare yourself with repentance. It’s time for a new mind; it’s time for a new heart, it’s time for a new set of eyes, and it’s time for a new set of expectations. God is about to act, so wake up! God is about to act, so get ready! God is about act, so make way the path for him.

John is the precursor. His story is not a fairy tale. By the path that he prepared, God really did come to us: he came to us as the little child at Bethlehem, as the Redeemer of all men and women. He comes to us now in prayer and the sacraments, Eucharist, Reconciliation. And this true history all begins with Christmas.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

Dear Friends,

In the first quarter of the twentieth century there was a young man, Pier Giorgio Frassati, and he loved climbing mountains.  It was his number one hobby.  On weekends and school vacations he’d be in the Italian Alps practicing his climbing skills.  And he didn’t go alone he always brought a cohort of friends.  To the top, verso l’alto was his motto, always climbing as high as his skill and ropes would take him.  Now this young man was also a great man of prayer and he brought his rosary with him on these mountain treks and as he made his way to the top he would stop multiple times on the craggy ledges to rest but to also contemplate the greatness of God.

Pier Giorgio was born in Turin Italy in 1901.  He was born into a very wealthy and influential family.   His parents were not too religious but they made sure that their children went to Mass every Sunday and that they learned the catechism.  Very early on Pier Giorgio showed a great compassion for the poor.  Walking home from school he’d sometimes give away his coat and sweater and shoes, so that by the time he reached home he was almost naked, his mom was not amused.  Or if poor people knocked on their front door he’d give away dinner and empty the pantry of food.   As he got older his philanthropy grew.  He joined the St. Vincent de Paul Society and any allowance he received went to helping those in need.  His dad never knew that the allowance he gave Pier Giorgio was going to help the poor.

Pier Giorgio received communion every day, confession every week, and many nights he would spend in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, with his skis lying next to him.  They say he loved to sing, although he sounded awful, so he would have to sit in the back so as not to distract too many people.  He has been described as athletic, handsome, and bounding with charisma, he also had a reputation as a practical joker.  His pranks included short-sheeting priest’s beds. In 1925 Frassati died after contracting polio from a man he was helping.  He was only 24.  As the funeral procession left the Turin Church his family was surprised to see the numbers of poor people lining the street to honor their son.  The poor were just as surprised to see that their benefactor came from such a rich and powerful family.  Frassati’s story became well known it inspired Catholics across the world including a young Polish student Karol Woytjla, future pope.  In 1990 Pope St. John Paul II beatified Frassati calling him a man of the beatitudes.  Pier Giorgio’s body is incorrupt and he’s a patron of the youth.

As I stated earlier Pier Giorgio loved climbing mountains, “To the top” was his motto.  In many of the photos we have of him there are often mountains in the background.   The prophet Isaiah once spoke of a holy mountain, we heard of it in the blessing of our Advent wreath, he said, “In days to come, the mountain of the Lord’s house shall be established as the highest mountain and raised above the hills.  All nations shall stream toward it.” Two questions:  Is the mountain of the Lord’s house the highest mountain in our life?  Is praise and worship of God more important to us than anything else?  Pier Giorgio climbed the mountain of the Lord.  He came from a wealthy family; and he could have climbed the mountain of wealth.  He came from a powerful family; and he could have climbed the mountain of power.  He was handsome and charismatic; and he could have climbed the mountain of pleasure.  Yet even with all these blessings he chose the mountain of the Lord.  He used every blessing he received, money, influence, and charisma in service to climbing this most important mountain.  Experts in spirituality often tell us, if we don’t have the love of God first in our lives then we won’t know what to do with the other goods and blessings in our lives.  These other goods and blessings could very easily become the mountains we end up climbing.

Now after telling us that the mountain of the Lord’s house will be established as the highest mountain Isaiah goes on to say that people will climb this mountain for instruction.  “Come let us climb the Lord’s mountain, to the house of the God of Jacob that he may instruct us in his ways and we may walk in his paths.”  Isaiah is saying to us, come to the temple to be instructed.  Where do people get their instruction today?  There are many different venues to instruction today; TV, internet, movies, magazines, newspapers, and music.  We need news of what is going on in the world around us, but when these sources become the determiner of value in our lives then something is wrong.  Where do we go for instruction?  75% of our Catholic brothers and sisters stay away from weekly Mass.  Where do we go for instruction?  People used to go to Church for the answers; going to Church is our version of going up the mountain of the Lord.  We go there (here) seeking the wisdom of our ancient religious tradition, because truth is timeless.

This is our mountain; you could call it Mount St. Jerome. Pier Giorgio used to encourage his friends as they climbed with a phrase, they always lagged behind, and so he would shout down to them, “Higher and higher there, you can hear the voice of Christ!”  We could say to our friends, “Come to St. Jerome; come to the mountain and you will hear the voice of Christ!

I want to end with a question that Pope Francis once posed, “Do I adore the Lord?  Do I adore Jesus Christ the Lord?  Or is it half and half, do I play the play of the prince of the world?”  To adore Jesus till the end, to adore with loyalty and faithfulness; this is the grace we should ask for this advent.

Let us become great Saints,

Fr. Christopher

Dear Friends,

Whenever we hear the name of Mark Twain, we usually think of Tom Sawyer or Huckleberry Finn, or maybe even Joan of Arc, which he said was his best book.  Mark Twain wrote prodigiously but today I want to focus on his book called The Prince and the Pauper.

It’s a story about two boys born in England on the very same day.  The first boy was born to the royal family and was the direct heir to the throne of England.  He was given the title of The Prince of Wales, and eventually he would become King Edward VI.  Commenting on his birth, Mark Twain writes, “England had so longed for him, and hoped for him, and prayed to God for him, and now that he was really there, the people went nearly mad for joy… Everybody took a holiday, the high and low, the rich and poor, they feasted and danced and sang.”

Now on the very same day that the prince was born into the royal family in the palace of London, another boy was born, but born to a very poor family in the slums of London.  He was given the name of Tom Canty, and eventually he would become a beggar boy.  Commenting on his birth, Mark Twain writes, “He was an unwanted boy.  Nobody longed for him; nobody hoped for him; nobody prayed to God for him.  And now that he was in the world, nobody feasted, nobody danced, and nobody sang.”

Both boys grew up in totally different surroundings.  They grew up with totally different views of the world.

Now one day Tom Canty finds himself outside the gates to the royal palace.  And he is awestruck by its beauty.  As he edges closer to the gates to get a better look, the royal guards charge towards him and brutally throw him to the ground.  The young prince happens to see the incident and comes running to Tom’s defense.  And then to the surprise of the guards, the prince invites Tom inside to visit the royal palace.

Tom is flabbergasted.  He’s never seen anything like this before.  And the prince is charmed by the genuineness of his new friend.  Now as the prince was showing Tom the huge mirror in his room, the prince notices something, except for Tom’s rags and dirty face, he is a perfect look-alike for himself.  He said to Tom the pauper, “You have the same hair, the same eyes, the same voice, and the same face.  If we were wearing the same clothes there is none who could say which was you and which was me, the Prince of Wales.”    And so they got the idea to switch places and play a trick on everybody.  The prince put on

Tom’s beggar clothes and wandered off through the slums of London and rubbed elbows with the poor.  While Tom put on the prince’s clothes and rubbed elbows with the rich and famous.

After a time, however, the boys tired of their game.  And the prince returned to the palace and tried to enter, but the guards seized him, because they didn’t recognize him.  And when he refused to go away, he was thrown into the palace prison.  No amount of persuasion would convince them that he was really the Prince of Wales.  Even Tom’s attempts to set things straight failed.

With time the situation resolved itself, but as a result of the “trading places” the prince knew first-hand what it meant to be poor and to be treated harshly.  The prince would eventually become king and he became one of the most merciful and best-loved kings ever to reign on the throne.  He looked after the poor.

Our Lord, the real King, the King of the Universe, in that Great Exchange, in that greatest of Trading Places, like the prince made himself poor, but he made himself poor so that we might be made rich in divinity.  This Solemnity of Christ the King was given to us in 1925 by Pope Pius XI.  It was given to us at a time when certain secular rulers were launching dictatorships which would become vehicles of hate and destruction.  Through this solemnity the Pope wanted to reassert the ultimate and universal Kingship of Jesus Christ and his law of love and truth.

On this great Solemnity of Christ the King I offer three points.  First:  what is a King supposed to do?  Second:  how does Jesus fulfill this?  And Third:  what does all this have to do with you and me today?

First, what are kings all about?  Many of us probably picture a king as someone clothed in luxury, sitting on a throne, being waited on hand and foot, and not having to really do much of anything.  But speaking Biblically, a king has three primary responsibilities:  1. to look out for widows and orphans, 2. to care for the poor, and 3. to go to war to protect his people.  Not merely to send troops out to battle, but to lead the battle himself, to be on the front lines, to risk his own life for the lives of his people.

Second point, how does Jesus fulfill all of this?  Let me focus on that third responsibility; to do battle for us.  The second reading tells us that Jesus, “The ruler of the kings of the earth, loves us and has freed us from ours sins by His blood and has made us into a kingdom.”  Why is Christ the King?  He’s the King because He has gone to war for us.  He didn’t sit at home in Heaven and send angels to fight for us.   To save us from sin, to conquer death and to destroy our ancient opponent, the devil.  He did it Himself!  He came here, born of the Virgin Mary, to do combat for us.  It was most fitting that He become man, become one of us,  so that He could take up arms against our oppressors; against sin, against death, and against the devil himself.  He fought for us in the flesh.

Jesus taught, he told parables, and he performed miracles.  But those aren’t the reasons He came.  He came to get His hands dirty, to get them bloody!  Out of His extraordinary love for you and me he came to do battle for us, to fight for us, to wage war for us.  The cross is not the tragic end, but the reason he came.  Rescuing us from the stronghold of death and the guilt of sin.  And in doing so He has shown us what a real King does:  a real king protects, a real king defends, and a real king fights for others, He has His eyes open wide to those around Him who are defenseless, helpless and in most need.

And, finally our third point, what does all this have to do with you and me?   With baptism all of us have become sharers in Jesus’ Kingship.  It means that we, as the Body of Christ, are called to have what the Church often refers to as a “preference for the poor.”  We are challenged to ask the Holy Spirit to help us to look out into the world in which we live and with which we interact each day and to see those who are most in need and then to do something for them.  It means defending human life and working to ensure the protection of every human being, especially those who are most in jeopardy, the unborn, the elderly, and the sick.  It means to be involved in efforts to feed the hungry and to cloth the naked.  It means getting out of our comfort zones, maybe making a phone call to someone who is grieving or to visit a friend in the hospital, a nursing home, a hospice, or even a jail.  It means reaching out to the kid in school who doesn’t seem to have many friends, or is struggling somehow.  It means, having our focus on the other and their needs and not on me and my needs.

This week, let us ask our Lord to help us see someone who in some way needs to be defended or cared for, this might be at work, in school, or at home.  And then let’s pray for the grace to exercise our kingship and to do something for them,  to do something.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

Dear Friends,

What is wisdom? Who is a wise person?   Two historical people known for their wise answers asked these very same questions.  Solomon in Ecclesiastes asked, “Who is like the wise man and who knows the explanation of things?”  And Socrates is the other who asked these two questions.  Socrates spent his whole life on a quest for wisdom.  His quest looked a lot like Solomon’s, but unlike Solomon, Socrates died without finding it.  At the end of Ecclesiastes, Solomon finds true wisdom and he finds it in the only place it can be found, in the Word of God.  For us that word is Jesus himself and everything he said, fulfilled, and represented.

Socrates never acknowledged the word of God, and so he never found true Wisdom, Himself.  But that didn’t stop people from coming to him looking for wisdom.  There is a story of a young wisdom seeking man who came to Socrates.  Socrates took him to a pond and led him chest-deep into the water.  And there he asked him, “What do you want?” the young man said, “Wisdom, oh wise Socrates.”  So, Socrates proceeded to push him under the water.  After about 30 seconds, he let the boy up and asked him again, “What do you want?”  Again the young man sputtered, “Wisdom oh great and wise Socrates.”  So Socrates pushed him under the water again.  30 seconds passed, 35, 40. Then he let him up.  “What do you want?”  This time the boy was gasping and choking.  But between breaths, he managed to get out, “Wisdom, oh great and…”  This time he didn’t even finish his sentence before Socrates dunked him under again.  30, 40, 50, 55, one full minute later, Socrates finally let him up.  “What do you want?”  This time the boy said, “Air! I need air!”  And that was the lesson.

Socrates told him, “When you desire wisdom as much as you just desired air, then you will have it.”  Air is something we don’t pay a whole lot of attention to until we don’t have it.  And when we don’t have it, it’s the only thing we can think about.  Think about that time you got the wind knocked out of you.  As Christians we want the kind of wisdom that passes the test of faith.  We want the wisdom of the words that will not pass away.  And we want the Word himself, made flesh, who will not pass away.  So let us pursue this wisdom as if our life depended on it, and it does, our eternal life.

A few weeks ago at Mass we heard of the rich young man who had a lot of possessions, but he wanted something more.  His question to Jesus was, “Good Teacher, what must I do to share everlasting life?”  That rich young man had health, wealth, youth, and life.  But he knew that an illness, or a thief, could change that in a moment.  And even if he could avoid such sudden loss, he knew that even at best all that he treasured was temporary.  The unrelenting tick of the clock would slowly rob his youth, erode his wealth, and eventually take his life.  And then what?

Perhaps the young man had been in the crowd on a mountain some months earlier when Jesus said, “Do not store for yourselves treasures on earth where moths and decay destroy, and thieves break in and steal” (Mt 6:19).  Or maybe he had been in the synagogue of Capernaum when Jesus said, “Do not work for food that perishes, but for food that endures for eternal life, which the Son of Man will give you” (Jn 6:22).  At any rate he wanted what every one of us wants, peace and security, life and happiness that lasts, happiness that never ends, we want that heavenly wisdom that never passes.     And all of this is within our reach right now.

A theology lesson.   As we know, God exists outside of time.  But when Jesus entered into time, time freaked out, because time cannot contain Jesus or any of the events in his life.  So Jesus is not limited to those 33 years of life on earth two millennia ago.   Jesus is both true man and true God and because he is true God his life cannot remain in the past, his life transcends time.  And here, is the beautiful and awesome thing about being a Christian.  When we were baptized we were filled with the very life of God, his sanctifying grace, and as the water was being poured over us, our souls received the Divine virtues of Faith, Hope, and Charity.  And it’s these virtues that allow us to transcend time, and be with Jesus at all the important events of his life.  Amazing!

Example, whenever our heart is moved with faith and charity at remembrance of some event of our Lord’s life, maybe the crucifixion, for example, then we are mystically transported to that event of our Lord’s life, we are there to love him and console him.  And in a very real way we are more present to Jesus than one of the soldiers who was there physically but had no faith or charity.  The wisdom of Jesus, the words of Jesus, the Word made Flesh himself, cannot remain in the past, He transcends time.   Our faith, our hope, our charity keeps us very connected to the eternal word.

Theologians tell us the Mass is the most perfect prayer we can offer to God the Father.  It makes present to us all the life-saving events of Jesus.   A priest once said that we should think of prayer, any prayer, but Mass especially as sitting before God and that with every breath we take in we are breathing in God, we are breathing in the breath of God.  He resuscitates us and fills us with the air of Divine Wisdom right here and now.  It’s the air that Socrates could never give to the young man he almost drowned.  This is the air we want to breathe, the air of peace, the air of security, the air of life and the air of happiness that lasts. The Mass is where we take in the wisdom of the words that will not pass away and we take in  the Word himself, made flesh, who will not pass away.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

This Thursday November 11^th, Feast day of St. Martin, patron of soldiers, is also the 103^rd anniversary of the armistice that ended World War I. The violence and tragedy of that war was up until that time unprecedented. It would only be surpassed in horror and death by the mid-20^th century wars: Japan’s invasion of China in the mid-30’s and, of course, World War II. To give some perspective, the total amount of war deaths in Vietnam (French, US and Vietnamese combined) was roughly 2 million people. The death toll in WWI was ten times that. The war “officially” commenced when a Serbian nationalist, Gravilo Princip, shot and killed the Archduke of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, Franz Ferdinand, and his wife, Sophie. Princip’s home country, Serbia, lost over 16% of its population (and that is just the low estimate.) Again, to give you some perspective, that would be like the US going to war and suffering 55 million war dead. We often hear about the dark times we are living in and there is some truth to that. Society seems to be getting more cynical, vulgar and superficial by the day. But there is simply no comparison to 100 years ago. In theological terms, it seemed as if the devil had won. In France alone, over 1,200 churches were destroyed.

The 103 year anniversary of the armistice acknowledges a stop to the  hostilities — the Treaty of Versailles which officially ended World War I would not be signed for another two months — but what caused it all in the first place? What was the cause of the War to end all Wars?  I could bore you with geopolitical details about treaties, mobilizations, insecure Kaisers, vacillating tsars and the multiple -isms — communism, socialism, anarchism, you-name-it-ism — they were all raging at that time. But none of them completely explain why the world seemed to march into the inferno. Reflecting on all of this, we tend to concentrate on the large scale conflicts. But some will point out quite accurately that many wars don’t happen on such a global scale but happen right in our very own homes. As some of us painfully know, many families have been torn apart by conflicts as destructive to them as anything happening in many countries far away. What causes these wars? Without oversimplifying it, is there some common thread? And where can we find peace?

We are at the time of year when the days are getting shorter and darkness seems to be closing in. But right at that time of year, when the day and it’s light is as short as it’s ever going to be all year, we celebrate the birth of the Light of the World. When we remember Jesus, when societies remember Jesus, when we truly drink in His words, consciously strive to live as He has called us to live, when we make Him the center of our lives, and Sunday the wellspring of our week, things change. The change begins on a small scale, to be sure, but they do have an effect. When we remember our Lord, when we begin praying for those who persecute instead of seeking opportunities to persecute them back then tensions get ratcheted down rather than up. When we remember Jesus, we become more generous and empathetic, perhaps trying to understand others with whom we disagree instead of shouting them down first thing. When we remember our Lord, we work on our own morality before we judge others on theirs and we become holier and more credible to them as a result. Big wars start small, they start right in the human heart.

There is always going to be an element of conflict in the world because some are not interested in Jesus, they are not interested in inviting Him into their hearts. (Sometimes, I think, they simply can’t hear Him. Too many headphones, TVs, and non-stop cable drowning Him out.) But if we truly invite Jesus into our heart — really, if we take this seriously — we will see a change. Our words and actions truly have a direct effect on a global scale. If we see, for example, a coarsening of language in the world and shake our heads in dismay and then think it has nothing to do with our own coarse language we are deluding ourselves. If we get frustrated because politicians don’t talk to each other and yet we don’t communicate with our own spouses or parents or children, we shouldn’t be surprised. If we want to stop the big conflicts in the world, we start with the small ones in our families.  Cardinal Mercier once wrote of this “starting small.”

Cardinal Mercier of Belgium, lived in the early part of the 20^th century and he was an outspoken eyewitness to the horrors of WW I. Today he is remembered for his courageous protests against the monstrous crimes and barbarities of the German invaders.  At Christmas in 1914 he wrote a letter to be read by the priests in every church.  It detailed the horrors of the German onslaught.  He called the Belgium people to resistance, patriotism, and endurance.  He was arrested for his outspokenness.  In that letter he wrote, “May human conscience triumph over all sophisms and remain steadfastly faithful to the great precept of St. Ambrose:  Honor above everything.”

Cardinal Mercier was a great example of holiness and he shared his secret of holiness, the secret of starting small, he said, “I am going to reveal to you the secret of sanctity and happiness.  Every day for five minutes control your imagination and close your eyes to the things of sense and your ears to all the noises of the world, in order to enter into yourself.  Then, in the sanctity of your baptized soul (which is the temple of the Holy Spirit), speak to that Divine Spirit, saying to Him: O Holy Spirit, Soul of my soul I adore Thee! Enlighten me, guide me, strengthen me, console me.  Tell me what I should do; give me Thy order.  I promise to submit myself to all that Thou desirest of me and to accept all that Thou permittest to happen to me.  Just make me know Thy Will.’  If you do this, your life will flow along happily, serenely, and full of consolation, even in the midst of trial.  Grace will be proportioned to the trial, giving you strength to carry it, and you will arrive at the Gate of Paradise laden with merit.  This submission to the Holy Spirit is the secret of sanctity.”

When we are filled with the Divine, with the Blessed Trinity, with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, when our hearts are filled with the divine, peace happens. When it happens small, it very often starts to happen big. If we want peace in the world, let us start by cultivating it right in our own hearts.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Archbishop Fulton Sheen once wrote, “As we enter Heaven we will see them, so many of them, coming toward us and thanking us, we will ask who they are and they will say, “A poor soul you prayed for in Purgatory.”   This is the time of year to think of the deceased.  We do this all year of course, but during the month of November especially.  November is dedicated to the Holy souls in Purgatory.  Are we praying for those who have gone before us?

Purgatory is a transitional state for souls who have, at least implicitly, chosen our Lord, but whose love still needs purifying.  Purgatory is closely associated with Heaven.  A teacher once said it’s like Heaven’s bathroom.  Souls in this state might be compared to kids who come inside when called to dinner, but haven’t yet washed their hands.  A child in the bathroom might not be at the banquet table but he’s certainly in the house.

Pope St. John Paul II once explained it in this way, “Those who live in this state of purification after death are not separated from God but are immersed in the love of Christ, His burning love purifies.  Neither are they separated from the saints in Heaven, who already enjoy the fullness of eternal life, nor from us on earth, who continue on our pilgrim journey to the Father’s house.  We all remain united in the Mystical body of Christ.”   We all belong together in one enormous symphony of being.

As the catechism states a soul must be free of even the tiniest imperfections before entering Heaven.  Our Lord wants us to completely enter into His joy, to share in His own life forever, and we can’t do so before being completely purified.  God’s life, the life of the Trinity, is perfect love.  How could a creature still bearing a trace of sin join in that life?  In the words of St. Augustine, “To think highly of our deceased is charity, but to pray for them is a charity greater, wiser, surer.”

To pray for them is a charity greater, wiser, and surer.  Building on this Pope Benedict XVI once wrote that, “No man is an island. Our lives are involved with one another, through innumerable interactions they are linked together. No one lives alone. No one sins alone. No one is saved alone. The lives of others continually spill over into mine: in what I think, say, do and achieve. And conversely, my life spills over into that of others: for better and for worse. So my prayer for another is not something extraneous to that person, something external, not even after death. In the interconnectedness of being, my gratitude to the other—my prayer for him—can play a small part in his purification.” Again, We all belong together in one enormous symphony of being.

St. Leopold Mandic was an Italian Capuchin who died in 1942.  As a young man he had a great desire to travel east to proclaim our Lord and the Gospel.  He wanted to make our Lord known in the East.  But it wasn’t to be.  St. Leopold had very poor health.  He couldn’t see very well,  he stuttered when he talked, he had constant abdominal pain, and arthritis that deformed his hands and bent his spine, so that he was no more than 4 ½ feet tall.  He was shorter than Sr. Cyrilla.  He was not a robust man and so his superiors didn’t think he had the stamina needed to go into the missions, and so he spent his life in Padua, hearing confessions for 12 to 15 hours a day.  He was gentle and wise in the life of virtue and people flocked to him.  If you wanted him to hear your confession, you had to wait a long time.  Sometimes other priests would complain that he was too lenient with the people who came to him for confession.  To this he would say, “If the Lord wants to accuse me of showing too much leniency toward sinners, I’ll tell him that it was he who gave me the example, and I haven’t even died for the salvation of souls as he did.”

For many years in the back of his mind St. Leopold persisted in the hope that he might be able to go east into the missions.  But as he got older he realized it wasn’t going to happen.  He was going to stay in Padua in his tiny confessional.  So he changed his attitude.  Since he couldn’t go to the missions in the east every soul he helped in the confessional would be his east.  Every soul sitting before him would be his mission to the east.  “Every soul will be the East for me,”  he said.

The direction East has a very special meaning to Catholics.  There is the ancient tradition of facing east when we worship.  At one time all Catholic altars faced east.  They were built this way because at the end of time our Lord will come from the East.  And the sun a symbol of Jesus also rises in the East.  In a symbolic way to face east is to face the Lord.

And so adding to St. Leopold’s quote we could say, every soul made in the image and likeness of our Lord will be the East for me.  In looking towards a soul I will look towards the Lord.  I will pray for the souls made in the image and likeness of our Lord.  That will be my mission to the east.

Every time we face the Lord, every time we face the symbolic east may we remember in prayer the souls of our beloved dead, but most especially may we also remember the souls of those who have no one to pray for them.    We all belong together in one enormous symphony of being.  May our prayer for the dead  play a small part in their purification.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord.

And let perpetual light shine upon them

May they rest in peace.

May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.

“As we enter Heaven we will see them, so many of them, coming toward us and thanking us, we will ask who they are and they will say, “A poor soul you prayed for in Purgatory.”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

I have two images for us to consider.  First image:  a candle, set on fire, sitting on top of a stand.  Second image:  same candle, set on fire, sitting on top of a stand but with a basket over it.  And with these two images in mind I have a question for us to consider:  which candle are you?

Now you might be wondering why I’m talking about these two images today, seeing as how they don’t seem to relate directly to the readings of today.  And it’s true they don’t relate directly to our readings, but today happens to be a special celebration in the Church throughout the world.  Today in every Catholic Church across the globe we are celebrating World Mission Sunday.

Now, typically, when we hear the word, “mission” in the Church we usually think of men and women going off to some distant and remote country, where they have to learn a foreign language so as to proclaim the Gospel.  And that’s true.  The most common understanding of mission relates to these efforts.  And it is fitting for us today to both pray for and support those men and women who go to foreign lands to preach the Gospel.

But whether or not we ever go to Africa, or China, or India, or where ever, we are all called to be missionaries.  To be a missionary, in its most literal sense, means to “be sent.”  Missionary comes from the Latin word “missio” meaning to send.  Some of us probably remember the end of the Mass when it was said in Latin.  That ending was, “Ite missa est.”  It was from that ending that we get the word Mass.  Ite missa est means, “She is sent.”  The “she” in “she is sent “is the Church.  And as you know you and I are the Church.  At every Mass you and I are sent by our Lord Himself to go out into the World, beginning with our homes, to speak about the One we meet. The One we meet at the ambo, at the altar, and in the assembly.

And this brings us back to  the candle.  Jesus says in the Gospel, “No one lights a lamp and then puts it under a basket.”  Because that would make no sense.  It would serve no purpose.  Our Lord says, you “Light a lamp and put it on a stand for all the house to see.”

“The house” is the world in which we live.  And “the lamp” is us, you and me, every single one of us.  He has lit us; He’s set us on fire.  And we have been lit to shine.  At confirmation our Lord, through the Bishop, used sacred chrism to sign us with the cross on our forehead.  In that gesture our Lord was saying to us, “You are mine.  I love you with an infinite love, go be my witness and I will give you every bit of wisdom, grace, and courage you need.” 

I want share a little bit about St. Gianna Molla, canonized in 1994.  Gianna was born in Italy in 1922.  She was a regular Catholic and as a young adult she studied medicine specializing in pediatrics and it was her dream to go to Brazil, as a missionary, where she intended to offer her medical expertise in gynecology to poor women.  However, her chronic poor health made this impossible, and so she remained in Italy practicing medicine.  In 1954 she met her future husband Pietro, they married the following year.  Three children quickly followed.  In 1961, Gianna was again expecting.  During the second month, she developed a fibroma on her uterus.   The doctors gave her three choices:  an abortion with surgery later to remove the tumor; a complete hysterectomy; or removal of only the fibroma, with the potential of further complications.  Abortion was out of the question and wanting to save her child’s life, she opted for the removal of the fibroma.

There were many complications during that pregnancy.  But Gianna was quite clear about her wishes, saying to her family, “This time it will be a difficult delivery, and they may have to save one or the other – I want them to save the baby.”  On April 21, 1962, Good Friday of that year, Gianna went to the hospital, where her fourth child, also named Gianna was successfully delivered via caesarean.  However, Gianna continued to have complications and she died of a severe infection 7 days later.  At her canonization Mass, Pope St. John Paul II called Gianna, “A simple but more than ever, significant messenger of divine love.” 

Gianna’s daughter once read a letter to Pope Francis at a public gathering.  This letter was one her mom had written to her dad soon after their engagement.  In it St. Gianna highlighted the Christian virtues of marriage, writing that God had called herand Pietro together as a couple to serve God in a saintly way, by marriage, the sacrament of love.

St. Gianna shined not as a missionary to Brazil as she had hoped but as a wife and mother and physician.  She was sent.  We’re all missionaries, we’ve all been sent by God.  And thinking about my own life, especially my youth, no priest, deacon, or sister taught me nearly as much about what it means to be a Christian as did my mom and dad.  They were my best teachers. It was their example I saw every day.  My folks let their light shine by the example of daily prayer, of going faithfully to Mass every Sunday, of giving generously, and by their joy.  Parents have a great and privileged mission in the Church.  They introduce their children to Jesus.

As Christians it’s a great honor to be sent by God, out into the world.  To tell the world of our Lord’s wondrous deeds.  In prayer today, especially after receiving the Eucharist, ask Him to show you one concrete way, this week, in which you can let your light shine.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley