Category: Pastor’s Corner

Dear Friends,

Once during my seminary studies one of my priests gave me a copy of what a consulting firm might have said about the original 12 apostles.  This is the report they gave to Jesus

It is our opinion that the 12 men you have picked to manage your new organization lack the background, educational and vocational aptitude for the type of enterprise you are undertaking.  They do not have the team concept.  Simon Peter is emotionally unstable and given to fits of temper.  Andrew has no qualities of leadership.  The two brothers, James and John, place personal interest above company loyalty.  Thomas demonstrates a questioning attitude that would lend itself to undermining morale.  We feel it is our duty to tell you that the Greater Jerusalem Better Business Bureau has censured Matthew for unfair business practices.  James the son of Alphaeus, and Simon the Zealot both have radical leanings and both registered high on the manic-depressive scale.  One of the candidates, however, shows great potential. He is a man of ability and resourcefulness, has a keen business mind and possesses contacts in high places.  He is highly motivated and ambitious.  We recommend Judas Iscariot as your vice president and right hand man.  We wish you every success in your new venture.

And it is to this unimpressive group, with so many failings, that our Lord says, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.  And behold, I am with you always, until the end of the age.”  This last line makes all the difference; I am with you always, until the end of the age. “I am with you always until the end of the age.”  The apostles didn’t have to do it on their own; they couldn’t do it on their own.  Without our Lord they couldn’t have done anything on their own.

Now this is something that Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity understood very well, although it took her a while.  She grew up in France in the late eighteen hundreds; she was the daughter of a successful military officer who died of a heart attack while she was still only a girl.  Elizabeth was an extremely strong-willed and temperamental child.  Her frequent fits of rage were almost uncontrollable; it was so bad that her mom often called her the “little devil.”  This began to change, however, after her first Communion, when she was eleven. That afternoon she met for the first time the prioress of the nearby Carmelite convent.  The nun explained that the girl’s name, Elizabeth, meant “house of God,” and wrote her a note that said:  “Your blessed name hides a mystery, accomplished on this great day. Child, your heart is the House of God on earth, of the God of love.”

From then on, recognizing that God had taken up residence in her soul, she waged a holy war against her violent temper.  She didn’t win overnight, but she did win, eventually, and she also discovered her vocation to become a Carmelite sister.  Her mother didn’t like the idea, however, and made her wait until she was twenty-one.  She won friends of all ages during these years of waiting, singing in the parish choirs, arranging parish day-care service for families that worked in the local tobacco factory, and also winning several prizes for her skill at the piano.  She died only five years after entering the convent, at the age of 26, after having suffered horribly for months from an extremely painful disease of the kidneys.  But her realization that the Blessed Trinity dwelt within her enabled her to suffer with patience and even with joy.  As she wrote to her mother:  “The bride belongs to the bridegroom, and mine has taken me.  Jesus wants me to be another humanity for him in which he can still suffer for the glory of his Father, to help the needs of his Church: this thought has done me so much good.”

Blessed Elizabeth of the Trinity had discovered the intimate, loving presence of God that he so eagerly wants to reveal to all of us.  The reason God has revealed himself to us so thoroughly is because he yearns for our friendship. That’s what he created us for.  But friendship is always a two-way street. God has done his part by opening himself up to us. That was what the Incarnation was all about.  That is what the ongoing life of the Church is all about:  the sacraments, Church teaching, the sacred Scriptures, and even the beauties of nature, God’s first book of revelation.  They are all ways God has invented to speak to us, to invite us into an ever deeper personal relationship with him.  But that relationship doesn’t happen automatically – friendship never does.

Cardinal Mercier of Belgium (d1920) once made the bold claim, that he knew the secret of holiness, happiness, and friendship with our Lord.  He said, “I’m going to reveal to you the secret, every day for five minutes control your imagination and close your eyes to the things of sight, and close your ears to all the noises of the world. Do this in order to enter into yourself.  Then, in the sanctity of your Baptized soul, which is the temple of the Blessed Trinity, speak to our Lord, saying to Him, ‘O Blessed Trinity, Soul of my soul, I adore You! Enlighten me, guide me, strengthen me, and console me.  Tell me what I should do; give me your orders.  I promise to submit myself to all that you desire of me, and to accept all that you permit to happen to me.  Just make me know your will.”  Cardinal Mercier goes on to say, “if you do this, your life will flow along happily, serenely, and full of consolation, even in the midst of trial, the grace you need will  be given to you to keep you strong.”

Again the last line of the Gospel, “I am with you always until the end of the age.”  The apostles, unlikely leaders as they were, Blessed Elizabeth, once described as a devil child, all came to realize they held a priceless gift within.  They were houses of God.  The Apostles, Blessed Elizabeth and you are Houses of God, baptism makes it so.  Your house is part of an awesome and great Heavenly community.  Let us find that time every day to listen, and to obey the soul of our soul the Blessed Trinity.  And we will be sanctified.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Last week we remembered the Ascension, the day our Lord returned to Heaven but not before promising to send the Holy Spirit.  And today on Pentecost we remember when the Apostles and Mary received the Holy Spirit as in tongues of fire. Now Wednesday of this week is the Feast day of St. Philip Neri, he’s one of my favorites.  For the collect of that Mass we will pray about the Holy Spirit as a holy fire.  We will pray, “O God … graciously grant that the Holy Spirit may kindle in us that fire which he wonderfully filled the heart of St. Philip Neri.”

Now some have called St. Philip Neri, Mr. Happy go Lucky.  He had a great sense of humor, sometimes shaving off half of his beard.  Or making some design in the stubble of his beard.   He was eccentric but at the very same time he was also very holy and humble.  He was a priest who lived in Rome during the 16^th century.  And the beginning of that century marked a very low point in our Church’s history.  There was corruption, priests were not celebrating Mass or the sacraments, and people didn’t pray, or even know their faith.  But Philip Neri helped to change that, through his joyous and holy example, he brought many back to the faith.  And for that he’s been called the Second Apostle of Rome,  St. Paul being the first.

A certain bishop once visited Philip Neri for dinner.  This Bishop was not the best example of Christian charity.  And to help serve the meal Philip used the assistance of a monkey; however, the monkey was dressed to look like the Bishop.  The monkey wore a tiny miter on his head and carried a tiny crosier.  I’m not sure the Bishop got the message.  Philip’s penances given in the confessional were sometimes creative.  Once a prideful young man came to him to confess his sins, for penance the young man was made to carry a tiny dog wearing a big pink bow.  The young man had to carry this dog all around Rome for a month.  This is not something a young man would do at that time.  It would have been a very humbling experience.  Because of his joyful holiness many were attracted to St. Philip Neri.  His room would always be filled with visitors seeking his advice, his prayers, and the sacraments, the sacrament of reconciliation especially.  He brought people closer and closer to our Lord.

Philip Neri arranged spiritual talks, discussions and prayers for his penitents.   He would also organize day long pilgrimages where he and his band of followers would visit the seven Basilicas of Rome where they would pray in each one of them.  And in between the visits to the churches there would be parades, music, picnics and lots of laughter.  Now because of his exuberant joy he became suspect, so he was investigated.  The higher ups wondered, “Why is this man so happy?”  It’s a sad day when holy joy becomes suspect, but nothing sinful was ever found, he exhibited true Christian joy, a fruit the Holy Spirit.  Some of Philip’s followers became priests and they came to live together in community.  This was the beginning of the Oratory, the religious institute he founded.   Philip’s advice was sought by many of the prominent figures of his day.  He’s one of the most influential figures of the Counter-Reformation, mainly for converting to personal holiness many of the influential people within the Church itself.

As I said before the collect, the opening prayer, for the Feast day of Philip Neri, speaks of the Holy Spirit.  That prayer asks God the Father in his love to kindle in us the fire of the Holy Spirit who so filled the heart of Philip Neri.  This prayer refers to Philip’s personal Pentecost.  As a young man Philip would walk to the catacombs every night and pray to the Holy Spirit.  One night he felt a violent inrush of the Spirit and with this inrush he felt a tremendous heat and his heart began to beat wildly.  From that time forward, for more than fifty years, any time Philip became lost in deep prayer his heart would beat wildly and loudly.  So loud, that those close to him could hear it.  At his death they found that his heart was twice the size of a normal heart pushing two of his ribs outward.  His enlarged heart, however, never affected his health.

Many times when we try to explain the Holy Spirit the words heat and fire are used as an explanation of the Spirit’s power.  In Luke’s gospel Jesus says, “I have come to cast fire upon the earth; and would that it were already kindled!” (Luke 12:49).  Few words in the English language get our attention like “fire.”  People follow fire engines, and if not stopped, fire will devour everything in its path.  It’s relentless, and the more it consumes, the more unstoppable it becomes.  Fire breeds fire.  It cannot be satisfied.  As long as there is fuel and the conditions are right it will continue to burn.   And this is the image that Jesus chooses to convey the nature of his love for us.  “I have come to cast fire upon the earth, and would that it were already kindled.” 

Now in the Old Testament Moses too spoke of this fire.  Some of Moses’ final words to the Israelites were these:  “For the Lord your God is a consuming fire, a jealous  God!” (Deut 4:24).  Jealous because God will not be content until we find our rest and satisfaction only in Him.  Consuming because he removes all that is sinful and unworthy in us.  At Pentecost this divine fire touched the disciples.  At baptism and confirmation this same fire touches us.  And this fire of the Holy Spirit, like all fires needs to be sustained if it is to burn.  It needs to be sustained.  And it is the Eucharist that feeds this flame within our heart and soul.  The Eucharist is the most perfect way to sustain the fire of the Holy Spirit.  There are other ways but the Eucharist is the most perfect way.

For St. Philip Neri the Eucharist was his joy.  Sometime the Masses he celebrated would take up to four hours to complete.  After the consecration he’d just stand there lost in thought at the great mystery before him on the altar.  His altar boys learned to take a break at this point, they’d leave for a two hour coffee break, leaving a “do not disturb” note on the chapel door.   They’d come back after two hours to help finish the Mass.  And at night he’d spend hours in prayer before the Tabernacle.  The Blessed Sacrament fed the flame of the Holy Spirit within his heart.  And the proof is his life where we see all the fruits of the Holy Spirit, love, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control, and joy, most especially joy.

Everything available to the saints and those first disciples at Pentecost is available to us.  The Eucharist adored outside of Mass and received worthily at Mass will keep the flame of the Holy Spirit burning hot and bright within our Heart and Soul.    Catholics should be the most joyful and spirit filled Christians around.

“O God … graciously grant that the Holy Spirit may kindle in us that fire which he wonderfully filled the heart of St. Philip Neri.”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

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

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

At Mass we get a hint of that heavenly rope pulling us up.  There is one Mass in particular that stands out to me.  It was the Mass where Fr. Jose was ordained, with three other men, to the Transitional Diaconate.  It was six years ago and it really made an impression.    It was a beautiful Mass, there were flowers, the music was awesome, there was the choir the organ and the trumpets, the Cathedral was packed with people all dressed up, and the sanctuary was crammed with priests.  I was in the back row smooshed between two other larger very healthy priests. Now for each reading someone from the assembly came up to the ambo to read the scripture passage.  For the first reading the woman was very slow in making her way to the ambo, heads were beginning to turn.  I’m sure they were thinking, “What’s going on?”  I think the first lector was slow in realizing that it was her time to read.  But when she got there she did a marvelous job.  Next we sang the psalm, the choir did a wonderful job and everyone in the assembly sang along. Now for the second reading the lector was very prompt in getting to the ambo, she learned from the first reader.  But before she began to read, she blurted something out, now this isn’t something you’re supposed to do, but she blurted something out, before doing the reading, she said, “This is Heaven!”   Then she turned around to smile at the Bishop.  Of course he smiled back at her.  Then she began to read.

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

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

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

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

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Jim, 32 years old, was a devout Catholic Marine and he had always dreamed of meeting Mother Teresa.  Jim had ten days of approved leave.  And he decided, in that time off, to fly 8,000 miles, from San Francisco to Calcutta.  When Jim’s plane landed in Calcutta he was taken by taxi through a maze of narrow streets filled with garbage.  He was shocked by the poor, humid and dusty atmosphere that greeted his eyes.  After what seemed like hours he found himself at Mother Teresa’s Missionaries of Charity.

At the door he was greeted by a tiny Indian sister, who when Jim said he had come to meet Mother Teresa, said to him, “I’m sorry, sir, Mother Teresa isn’t here.  She had to leave for Rome.”  Rome! He said out loud, dejected and stripped of his dream meeting, and having traveled so far, the marine swallowed his disappointment, and decided to stay anyway.  He then asked the nun at the door if there was any way he could help out.

Of course, she said; there are three ways you can help:  clean the house, or cook for the residents, or care for the dying.    Jim couldn’t cook, and he wasn’t keen on tending those who were dying.  So he offered to clean the building.  So he was given a tiny, noisy room near the street to stay in for his ten day leave.

Over the next week Jim mopped, scoured, and polished like never before in his life.  His Marine training paid off.  At the end of each day he collapsed into his bed and fell to sleep immediately.  After seven days of cleaning Jim was given the morning off to go exploring the city.  But at the last minute the sisters asked if, instead of sight-seeing, he might instead watch the front door and open it for visitors when they rang the doorbell.  Very disappointed Jim did as was asked, and that morning he sat by the door waiting for the doorbell to ring.  He didn’t have to wait long for the bell to ring and when he opened the door, there stood Mother Teresa.  He was speechless; there she was the most famous Catholic in the world outside of the pope, standing there, half his size, radiating this intense joy.

In her Albanian accent, Mother Teresa said simply, “Come with me, we have work to do!”  She led him quickly and silently through the slums until they arrived at the underside of a bridge where the air was saturated with filth.  The odors were nauseating, almost unbearable.  Mother Teresa seemed oblivious to it.  Jim was almost to the point of vomiting.  But there under the bridge, sprawled on the ground, was an elderly man lying in his own excrement, vomit, and whatever else had accumulated on his clothing for months if not years.  The odor was so powerful that Jim had to keep turning his head.  The old man had wounds that were infected and had attracted many flies.

“Take him!”  said Mother Teresa.   Jim thought with revulsion, “take him, and touch him?”  But he did, he rolled his sleeves down over his hands so he wouldn’t make direct contact.  He lifted the old man up and following Mother Teresa they made their way back to the house.  And when they got back Mother Teresa instructed Jim to give the man a bath.  That was about the last thing in the world Jim wanted to do, but he didn’t want to disappoint Mother Teresa, and he didn’t want the old man’s final memory to include an American who had turned away from him in disgust.

And so he placed the man in a tub and with lots of soap and water he began to gently wash him, and he soon began to think it wasn’t so bad.  After washing the old man he rocked him in his arms letting him know he wasn’t alone, in his final hours.  And that’s when Jim saw the old man transform.  Jesus was now in the Marine’s arms.  No amount of blinking could alter the transformation.  He was holding the Lord in his own arms.  This was not a vision, but Jesus himself was there, there were holes in His hands and feet.  His side had a gaping wound, and his swollen face had the marks of trauma.

He looked to Mother Teresa for an explanation and she simply said, “You see Him too, don’t you.”  It took him hours to recover; he had been shaken to his core.  Jim’s dream had come true, he’d met his hero, Mother Teresa, but much more importantly, under a bridge in Calcutta, in the middle of the darkest human suffering, he touched the Face of God.  Jim had been chosen and sent on a mission.

You have been chosen.  Everyone reading this letter has been chosen by Jesus.  Our spiritual life is not so much about searching for God as it is about surrendering to God, surrendering to this Divine loving act of being chosen.  You have been chosen.  In our Gospel Jesus says, “I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit.”  We’ve been chosen and then sent on a mission to bear fruit.  And the mission is always an expression of love.  Jim the Marine was chosen and sent on a mission to Calcutta where he loved in a way that was very hard. We have been chosen by Love to give love.

Now this love is not a feeling, this love is not a sentiment; this love is to will the good of the other.  This love is self-giving and self-sacrificing. It’s not selfish.   It is a love that forgets about self.  Think of Jesus on the cross.  And there are a million ways of doing that.  When you look at the saints every one of them is different, but the core of every single one of their missions is love.

My prayer for us today is that we continue to grow in loving with a forgetfulness of self, focusing on God and the other, focusing on our spouse, our children, our parents, our family, and our parish.  And in that forgetfulness of self may we touch the face of God in those we serve.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

History’s greatest leaders influence people from the outside in.  With their speech, their ideas, their example, and even their presence they move and motivate those around them, drawing others and stirring them to action.  Jesus, however, goes much deeper, influencing us also, but from the inside out.  He not only calls us from the outside, through the voice of the Church, the actions of Providence, and the example of his faithful disciples but he also unites himself to us so intimately, so inside of us, that his very life flows through our veins.

Our Lord says, “I am the vine, you are the branches,” and through the sacraments, the Eucharist especially, his divine life, his divine sap, flows through our veins.  Our Lord then goes on to say, “Remain in me and you will bear much fruit.”  This is First Communion weekend and I have a story of a man who through the power of the Eucharist remained in our Lord and as a result bore much fruit.

His name is Manuel Garcia born in Seville Spain in 1877.  His vocation to the priesthood came very early in life.  He entered the seminary when he was just 12 years old, and later on in life he would often say, “If I was born a thousand times; a thousand times I would be a priest.”  Manuel was an excellent student.  He excelled at his studies and was held in high regard by his teachers.  He went on to earn two doctorates.  He was ordained at the age of 24.

Manuel’s first assignment was to preach a mission in a small remote village.  As he made his way to this far away site on the back of a horse he dreamed of what the mission would be like.  The church would be packed with men, women, and children all eager to hear his learned preaching.  There would be standing room only at all the Masses he would celebrate.  Lines to the confessional would stretch out into the street and down the block.  Such were his dreams.  But when he got to town and found the church no one was there.  No crowd of children to welcome him as was the Spanish custom of the time.  He was all alone.  So he went inside.

The church was dark and dirty, the windows so grimy that very little light entered.  The murals on the walls were un-recognizable due to the flaking, and mildewy plaster.  Statues were cracked

and peeling and falling apart.  The pews were splintered and broken down.  Fr. Manuel made his way to the high altar.  It was no better.  The sanctuary lamp had leaked oil all over the floor.  The altar linen was torn, scorched and covered in wax.  And finally, the tabernacle was tarnished and covered in dust and cobwebs.

No one came to Fr. Manuel’s very first mission, no one heard him preach, no one received absolution, and no one received the Holy Eucharist.  Fr. Manuel would later write that as he kneeled in front of that neglected tabernacle and as depressing as that moment was, it was also a mystical moment of grace. He would later write, “My faith was looking at Jesus through the door of that tabernacle, so silent, so patient, so good, gazing right back at me…His gaze was telling me much and asking me for more.  It was a gaze in which all the sadness of the Gospels was reflected; the sadness of “No room in the Inn”; the sadness of those words, “Do you also want to leave Me?”; the sadness of poor Lazarus begging for crumbs from the rich man’s table; the sadness of the betrayal of Judas, the denial of Peter, of the soldier’s slap, and the abandonment of all.  All of this sadness was there in that tabernacle.”   Kneeling in front of that dusty tabernacle a vocation was born, a vocation within a vocation.  Then and there Fr. Manuel decided to dedicate himself to Eucharistic works, Eucharistic works in praise of Jesus Christ.  His personal motto became, “Here is Jesus! He is here! Do not abandon him!”

Fr. Manuel would go on to write many beautiful books about the Eucharist, and to found the Eucharistic Missionaries of Nazareth, the Children of Reparation, and the Disciples of Saint John, all groups dedicated to teaching and promoting Eucharistic adoration, and still going strong today.  Fr. Manuel would eventually become a Bishop.  He died in 1940; he had asked to be buried next to a Tabernacle saying, “So that my bones, after death, as my tongue and my pen in life, are saying to those who pass; “Here is Jesus!  He is here! Do not abandon Him!” This wish was carried out; he’s buried in the Cathedral of Palencia Spain, right below the tabernacle.  Fr. Manuel was canonized in 2016.  Much of his beautiful works remain to be translated from the original Spanish.

St Manuel made the Eucharist the center of his life and he became a saint.  When you look at the lives of all the saints there is this one common factor.  The Eucharist is always the center of their life.  And making the Eucharist the center of one’s own life is something that we can all do.   And it doesn’t have to be difficult.  And it doesn’t mean spending all of our time here in Church, not everyone is called to that way of life.  But for most of us, to make the Eucharist the center of our life, to make Jesus the center of our life, means receiving Communion regularly and worthily, going to confession regularly.  It means trying to get to Mass more than just on Sundays.  It means including Mass and Holy Communion on birthday and anniversary celebrations and other special occasions.  It means carving a few minutes out of our busy schedules to come and sit with our Lord, to drop by the Tabernacle, where Jesus is always waiting for us, our Divine Prisoner, keeping the gifts of his grace, ready just for us.

In our Gospel today Jesus repeats five times, “Remain in me.”  And to receive the Eucharist is the easiest way to do this.  But in doing this we have to know the person we are receiving.  We have to pay attention.  When I was first ordained I was told to celebrate each Mass as if it were my first Mass and at the very same time to celebrate it as if it were my last Mass.  In these two instances a priest pays attention to what is happening, he’s totally aware of what is happening and who is present and who is received.  We could say the same about Holy Communion.  Receive every Communion as if it were your First Holy Communion and at the very same time receive as if it were your last Holy Communion.  Know who you receive.  Never taking for granted the divine life, the divine sap that flows through our veins.  The Eucharist is life giving, without Him we wither.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today, Good Shepherd Sunday is also World Day of Prayer for Vocations.  This is usually understood as prayer for vocations to the priesthood or religious life, which we need to pray for every day.  But right now, however, I would like to broaden this prayer to include all Christian vocations.  I want us to pray that all children of God are able to realize and know their own vocation, because God has a plan for everyone.  There are two levels to each and everyone’s personal vocation.  And at the first level of our vocation, something that all baptized Christians are called to, is the vocation to holiness.  So whether you’re married, single, a professed religious, or a priest the very first vocation is holiness or we could also call it a vocation to love.  And this vocation to love permeates every aspect of our life.  The Second Vatican Council taught that we are called by God not by virtue of any of our good works but by his good design and grace.   We are justified in the Lord Jesus, and have been made the sons and daughters of God by our baptism and, by receiving God’s divine nature in the other sacraments.  These actions truly sanctify us.  With the right disposition the Sacraments truly sanctify us.  The Vatican II document ends with this sentence, “Therefore all the faithful are invited and obliged to holiness and the perfection of their own state of life.” 

This state of life that Vatican II speaks of is the second level of our vocation.  And this is marriage, the single life, or the religious life.  And it’s through one of these paths, whichever one God deems best for each of us, that we best achieve our sanctity.  Everyone in this church is called to be a Saint and with God’s generosity we can all become one.  St.  Gregory of Nyssa once said that Christian sanctity, or perfection has but one limit, and it’s that of having none.  We can always grow in sanctity.  On this World Day of Prayer for Vocations it’s important for us to remember that each and every one of us has an influence on the future of our Church.  So when a married couple remains joyful, faithful and loving, a seed is planted.  When a single person remains joyful, faithful and loving, a seed is planted.  And when a religious sister or brother or a priest remains joyful, faithful and loving, a seed is planted.  These seeds, planted within the hearts of our young people, grow to become the future vocations of sanctity for our church.

There always seems to be a sheep theme on Good Shepherd Sunday.  There’s a book that was printed a few years ago about shepherds and their sheep, the title is “A Shepherd looks at psalm 23.”  It’s by W. Phillip Keller.  He writes that it’s no accident that God has chosen to call us sheep.  The behavior of sheep and human beings is similar in many ways.  Our mob instincts, our fears and nervousness, our stubbornness and foolishness are all parallels of profound importance.

At the time of Jesus people knew all about sheep.  Sheep were everywhere.  So when the crowd listening to Jesus hears him say, “My sheep hear my voice; I know them, and they follow me” they knew exactly what he was talking about.  That crowd knew that sheep without a shepherd are easily frightened, easily led astray.  Sheep without a shepherd don’t know where they’re going and they’re easy prey for predators.  But when Christ is our shepherd and we live within the sheepfold of His Church we’re not easily frightened, we’re not easily led astray, we know where we’re going and hopefully we’re not easy prey for the predators of sin.

A good shepherd knows his sheep; he knows when something is wrong.  He gives each lamb the individual attention he needs; each lamb is protected and guided.  Sometimes, however, the shepherd needs to use his crook, that big cane we see shepherds carry (Bishop Bradley has one too).  The shepherd uses his crook to pull back a straying lamb.  Christ uses that crook on us too when we’ve strayed only we know it as grace the grace that gets us back into his fold when we’ve strayed.  The grace that inspires us to go to the sacrament of reconciliation.

So, on this Good Shepherd Sunday I want to end with a couple things that we can learn from sheep.  First, sheep are mindful of their shepherd.  They keep an eye on him and his presence in the field can bring a sense of peace among the flock.  When sheep are nervous or anxious just having the shepherd walk through the field calms them.  The sight of their shepherd calms them.  And second, sheep know their shepherd’s voice and will come when he calls, even in the midst of other noises.  For us to be in the Flock of Christ means knowing his voice and paying attention to it.  We hear his voice in Sacred Scripture, the Tradition of our faith, in prayer, and we sometimes hear his voice in what other people say to us.  For us to be in the Flock of Christ also means keeping our eyes on him.  And we have that opportunity at every Mass, on the altar where He is made present, and in our tabernacle where He resides always.  His presence can bring us peace, go to him.

Let us become great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

From the first apology in defense of the Christians      

by

Saint Justin, martyr

The celebration of the Eucharist

No one may share the Eucharist with us unless he believes that what we teach is true, unless he is washed in the regenerating waters of baptism for the remission of his sins, and unless he lives in accordance with the principles given us by Christ.

We do not consume the Eucharistic bread and wine as if it were ordinary food and drink, for we have been taught that as Jesus Christ our Savior became a man of flesh and blood by the power of the Word of God, so also the food that our flesh and blood assimilates for its nourishment becomes the flesh and blood of the incarnate Jesus by the power of his own words contained in the prayer of thanksgiving.

The apostles, in their recollections, which are called gospels, handed down to us what Jesus commanded them to do. They tell us that he took bread, gave thanks and said: Do this in memory of me. This is my body. In the same way he took the cup, he gave thanks and said: This is my blood. The Lord gave this command to them alone. Ever since then we have constantly reminded one another of these things. The rich among us help the poor and we are always united. For all that we receive we praise the Creator of the universe through his Son Jesus Christ and through the Holy Spirit.

On Sunday we have a common assembly of all our members, whether they live in the city or the outlying districts. The recollections of the apostles or the writings of the prophets are read, as long as there is time. When the reader has finished, the president of the assembly speaks to us; he urges everyone to imitate the examples of virtue we have heard in the readings. Then we all stand up together and pray.

On the conclusion of our prayer, bread and wine and water are brought forward. The president offers prayers and gives thanks to the best of his ability, and the people give assent by saying, “Amen.” The Eucharist is distributed, everyone present communicates, and the deacons take it to those who are absent.

The wealthy, if they wish, may make a contribution, and they themselves decide the amount. The collection is placed in the custody of the president, who uses it to help the orphans and widows and all who for any reason are in distress, whether because they are sick, in prison, or away from home. In a word, he takes care of all who are in need.

We hold our common assembly on Sunday because it is the first day of the week, the day on which God put darkness and chaos to flight and created the world, and because on that same day our savior Jesus Christ rose from the dead. For he was crucified on Friday and on Sunday he appeared to his apostles and disciples and taught them the things that we have passed on for your consideration.

Dear Friends,

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

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

Jesus speaking with a despairing soul:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(From the Diary of St. Faustina)

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

Happy Easter,

Fr. Christopher J.Ankley

Dear Friends,

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

Until his resurrection Heaven had been closed to all men and women.  In the preface just before the Holy, Holy, Holy, we’ll hear these words, “Through Him the children of light will rise  to eternal life and the halls of the heavenly Kingdom are thrown open to the faithful; for his Death is our ransom from death, and in his rising the life of all has risen.” And with heaven open we all have the opportunity to become a saint.  When we get to heaven we are a saint.  Sometimes the Church, after much scrutiny, canonizes some of those saints, canonizes certain men and women to hold them up as examples of holiness.  Seven years ago I went to Rome to witness the canonization of Popes John XXIII and John Paul II.  These two men like all the other canonized were infallibly declared to be in Heaven, adoring and praising God and praying for us.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happy Easter,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

One day, a great prince from a faraway kingdom came to a very remote and poor village.  There was great rejoicing at his arrival.  The people of the village welcomed him warmly and arranged a great feast.  The prince stayed with the people of that village for some time; loving them, caring for them, eating with them, and sharing with them stories of his Father’s Kingdom.

After sometime he shared one last meal with the villagers.  He explained that the time had come for him to go back to his Father.  He promised to prepare a place for them, and invited each one of them to follow after Him.  He explained that there would be great rejoicing in His Father’s kingdom upon their arrival.

Before He left, He gave instructions to the village’s wise man, instructions for the people to follow, in order to enter His Father’s Kingdom.  The Prince also left a supply of crosses, and told the wise man that anyone who would come and follow after Him, would need to carry a cross.  They would need to carry a cross in order to enter the kingdom.

And so after that final meal he left them and returned to His kingdom.

After a time, an elder of the village decided he would make the journey to the Prince’s kingdom.  He went to the wise man who explained the path he had to follow, and gave him one of the crosses, explaining that he would need the cross with him in order to enter the kingdom.

The man began his journey, dragging the heavy cross along the path into the woods.  It was very difficult for him to travel with the cross.  After several hours of struggle, he came upon a woodcutter’s hut.  And he devised a plan to make the journey easier.  He went inside, grabbed an axe and used it to chop off a length from each beam.  The shorter cross was easier to handle, and so he continued on his way.

It was late in the day when he reached the edge of a great river.  He could see a beautiful kingdom on the other side.  People there spotted him and began rejoicing at his arrival.  They instructed him to place his cross over the river and use it to cross over into the kingdom.  They would prepare a great feast for him.  The man lay his cross down, but it was too short to reach to the other side. He fell with it into the water and disappeared in the current.

Some days later, another villager felt called to make the journey to the Prince’s kingdom.  He went to visit the wise man and get his instructions.  The wise man gave him careful instructions for the journey and explained that he must carry a cross with him, because it would be required to enter the kingdom.

The man began his journey early the next morning, dragging the cross with him into the woods.  He too found it very difficult to move forward while carrying the heavy cross. It was several hours before he came to the woodcutter’s hut.  And he too came up with a plan to make his journey more bearable.

He went inside, found an axe, and split the beams of his cross to lighten its weight.  He continued on his journey, much relieved about the less burdensome cross he carried.  Finally, he came to a great river.  He could see a great kingdom on the other side.  People on the other side spotted him and began rejoicing.  They shouted instructions to him to place his cross across the river and use it as a bridge to pass over the water.  He lay the cross down, and began to walk over it, but the split beams were too weak to hold his weight.  The cross broke and he was swept away in the current of the great river.

Several days later, a very frail old villager felt it was her time to make the journey to the Prince’s kingdom.  She went to visit the village wise man.  She carefully received the instructions and obediently accepted the cross.  But it was all she could do to move the cross forward inch by inch.  After a day and a half and after many stops for resting she finally reached the woodcutter’s hut.  She went inside the cabin and saw all the axes and saws.  And she was very tempted to shorten her cross, but then she reasoned, saying to herself, “No, I was given this specific cross for a reason.  The wise man deliberated long and hard to choose just the right cross for me.”

She rested there for the night, and started out again the next morning.  The cross was still heavy but she was refreshed from the night’s rest.  And that day she even met a hiker who helped carry her cross for a time, she didn’t do it alone.   It was late afternoon when she came to the edge of the great river.  She could see a beautiful kingdom on the other side.  The people who had been working in the fields saw her and began to rejoice.  They called to her and told her to place her cross over the river, and use it to come over to their side.  The frail woman laid the cross over the river and walked over it to reach the other side.  There, they wrapped her in fine robes and prepared a feast for her.  The Prince and His Father welcomed her and gave her a place that they had prepared just for her.

Pick up your cross and follow the way of Jesus, His cross, our cross, is the bridge to Heaven.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley