Category: Pastor’s Corner

Dear Friends,

Jean Gabriel Dufresse was a French Catholic missionary Bishop and Martyr in China.  He was born in 1750, when he was 24, he was ordained after which he entered the Paris Foreign Mission Society, in 1775 he was sent to China.  He worked for 10 years with some success, founding small churches, teaching, baptizing, and celebrating Mass.  In 1785 he was deported by the Chinese government.  He snuck back into the country 4 years later to continue his work. In 1800 he was named Bishop of Szechwan.  This was a time of peace and freedom for the Missionaries.  In 1811, however, it was decreed that all foreign religious leaders were to be condemned to death.  If any foreign-born missionary was captured, he/she would be killed.  Unafraid Dufresse continued his work, although he had to keep moving, sleeping in a different place every night.  In 1815 he was captured and sentenced to death by beheading.     However, the place of his capture was a great distance from the site of his martyrdom in Beijing.  And so that meant a several days march to his place of execution.  He was marched along chained and prodded and watched over by Chinese soldiers.  One of those soldiers watched him very closely, he noted everything.  And one thing he noticed was that even though Dufresse was an older man he had a certain sense of strength and grace.  Even though he was harshly treated he didn’t respond in the same way, he didn’t respond in the same harshness and nastiness of his captors.  Instead, he was patient, gentle but not weak; there was even a certain sense of joy about him.  And he was prayerful, above all he was prayerful, even as they marched along, he prayed. 

This intrigued the soldier, “What’s the reason for your joy?” he asked, “Don’t you know you’re going to die?” during the many days of that forced march, that very observant soldier was learning about our Lord and the Catholic faith.  And just before the Bishop was executed the young man asked to be baptized.  And at his baptism he took the name Augustine.  Augustine would go on to be the first native-born Chinese priest and he too would be martyred.  Today we know him as St. Augustine Zhao Rong.  We celebrated his feast day on Friday. 

Each of us is called to be like St. Jean Gabriel Dufresse, a prophet, to speak of God to those around us, doing it in our own God-given way.  Not exactly like St. Jean Gabriel Dufresse but in your own God-given

way. Because of your baptism you are called to be a prophet.  And it doesn’t matter that you are not a professional theologian, you are called to be a prophet. 

In our 1^st reading we heard of Amos, an 8^th century BC Jew.  He was a farmer and a tree trimmer, an ordinary man without religious training yet God called him to be a prophet, to speak up about the things of God.  If you are baptized you are prophets, called to speak publicly about God and God’s word for the sake and salvation of others.  What does this look like?  What does it look like to be a prophet?                                             

  1.  Speak naturally the language of our Catholic faith.  Speak of Jesus, his mother Mary, the Saints, what happened at Mass, or what happened during your prayer.  Say “God Bless you if someone sneezes.”  Cross yourself in public.  Don’t hide your faith, fearful it might offend.  A simple acknowledgment of faith can have a powerful impact.  Bishop Dufresse, even though under arrest was not afraid to show his faith.  And it made an impression.

What does it look like to be a prophet?

2.  Always be ready to give a reason for the hope that’s in you.  When someone asks about the faith are you ready to give an answer?  Why are you so joyful, why are you so hopeful?  If not prepared to answer this question, study our faith, prepare yourself, you’re a prophet, be ready.  Bishop Dufresse told the future St. Augustine Zhao Rong that death was not the end, but the beginning of something wonderful.   And it made an impression.

What does it look like to be a prophet?

3.   Be ready to share the hard truths, challenge with charity.  How strongly do we speak out against injustice, injustice against the powerless and the unborn especially?  Bishop Dufresse challenged his captors with his faith, and he did it with great charity, not backing down, not giving in to anger.  Not giving into the same anger, they so easily expressed.  And it made an impression.

What does it look like to be a prophet?

4.  Prepare to be unpopular.  Prophets are often rejected.  I want to be liked by people; does that need of mine keep me silent when I should speak up?  Bishop Dufresse was not afraid to be unpopular; he was willing to be martyred.  And it made an impression. 

What does it look like to be a prophet?

5.  Prophets are people of prayer.  A prophet in prayer feels God’s joy, he feels God’s passion, he feels God’s love and he shares that and speaks of that experience.    Deep attention to God in prayer is what a prophet does.  If we never pray, we will never be a prophet.  Bishop Dufresse prayed, even when imprisoned and it was hard to pray, he prayed anyway.  And someone noticed and it made an impression.

To be a prophet; speak the language of our faith, give the reason for your joy, speak the hard truths with love, be prepared to be unpopular, and always pray.  Each of us is called to be like St. Jean Gabriel Dufresse, a prophet, to speak of God to those around us, doing it in our own God-given way.  Because of your baptism you are called to be a prophet.  And it doesn’t matter that you are not a professional theologian, you are called to be a prophet. 

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In our second reading we heard that God’s power is made perfect in weakness.  St. Paul even boasts of his weakness so that God’s power is all the more perfect and apparent.  I have a story about a man who was very weak, but in that weakness God’s power and glory shined.  His name is Matthew Talbot.

Matthew Talbot was an Irishman born in Dublin in 1856.  His parents were very poor, and he was the second of twelve children.  Most everyone in his family was an alcoholic.  At the age of twelve, as was the custom, Matthew left school and began working to help support his family.  His first job was in a store that sold wine.  It wasn’t long before he was sampling the wine in the backroom.  At age sixteen he got a job with the Port and Dock Board where he worked among the whiskey stores.  While still a teenager Matthew Talbot was a confirmed alcoholic. 

When drunk he became very hot tempered, he got into fights, and swore heavily.  He spent most if not all his paychecks at the bars and pubs of Dublin.   And if he didn’t have enough money, he would buy drinks on credit or sell his possession, selling anything that might get enough money to buy just even one drink.  And if desperate enough he would even steal.  His mother begged him to stop drinking but he refused.   

After drinking for sixteen years Matthew finally lost his own self-respect.  One day when he was totally broke, he loitered on a street corner waiting for his friends who were leaving work.  It was payday and he was hoping that one of them would buy him a drink.  None of them did.  No one offered him a drink.  Feeling rejected he went home and publicly resolved to his mother, “I’m going to take the pledge, and I’m not going to drink anymore.”   His mother smiled and told him, “Go, in God’s name, but don’t take the pledge unless you’re going to keep it.”   As Matthew was leaving the house she called out, “May God give you strength to keep it. May God give you grace to keep it.”

After leaving the house Matthew went straight to Church and confession and took the pledge not to drink for three months.  The next day he went to Mass and received Holy Communion, something he hadn’t done in years.  From that moment on in 1884 when he was 28 years old, Matthew became a new man.  After he had successfully fulfilled his pledge for three months, he made a lifelong pledge never to drink again. 

And he never did. But it wasn’t easy he told his sister, “Never look down on a man, who cannot give up the drink, it’s easier to get out of hell.”  But with the grace of God, he maintained his sobriety for the next forty years of his life.  He found strength in prayer, Mass every day before work, the Eucharist, Confession and devotion to the Blessed Virgin Mary.  He studied his faith and read the great spiritual masters.  And he got a new job away from the whiskey.   With this new job in a lumber yard he paid all of his debts and became very generous with the poor, keeping almost nothing of his paycheck.  The converted Matthew never swore, was good humored and friendly to everyone. 

At the age of 69 as Matthew was walking to Church he collapsed and died.  In his coat they found a note that read, “Three things I cannot escape:  the eye of God, the voice of conscience, the stroke of death.  In company, guard your tongue.  In your family, guard your temper.  When alone guard your thoughts.”  After his death Matthew was recognized as one possessing heroic virtue, something with God’s grace that he has grown into. At this time Matthew Talbot has been declared venerable by the Church.  He’s on his way to canonization.  In Matthew Talbot’s weakness God’s power and glory shined.

In our second reading from St. Paul, we heard that God’s power is made perfect in weakness.  St. Paul even boasts of his weakness so that God’s power is all the more perfect and apparent.  As we know St Paul was not perfect, no saint is perfect.  They are human beings, just like us, and they faced problems, hardship, suffering, and temptation, just like us.  It was their very challenges their thorns, their crosses, and their failings that God used to make them into saints.  That’s what St Paul is telling us in today’s Second Reading.  He says that although God has given him extraordinary mystical experiences, God has also given him a “thorn in his flesh.”  Paul prayed repeatedly for God to remove this thorn, but God refused, in order “to keep him from being too elated.”  To keep him humble.

Our 2^nd Reading throughout the centuries has raised two questions for theologians.   First question, what was St. Paul’s thorn?  Bible scholars have a few theories. It may have been:   A physical ailment of some sort; headaches, fevers, or a problem with his eyes. Or a particular temptation, like lust or greed. Or the discouragement he constantly felt from being rejected by his Jewish people. Or it may also have been his fiery temperament, which always seemed to get him into trouble. Whatever it was, it was a continual source of pain and irritation to St Paul.  It did not go away.

Second question: why didn’t God take this thorn away? St Paul tells us that it continually reminded him of his human weakness, inspiring him to depend more fully on God’s grace.  To trust.  He was weak, he needed God’s grace. Our thorns, whatever they may be, are not signs of God’s anger or displeasure, but signs that he is teaching us, as he taught St Paul, true wisdom, the wisdom of humility and trust in God.  God permits thorns for a reason.   His wisdom and power can turn even crucifixions into resurrections.

We experience interior peace and freedom that our Lord wants for us when we learn to accept our limitations, the thorns that God permits in our lives.  This was not an easy thing for St Paul.  It was only after many years of suffering and working for Christ’s Kingdom that he was able to write this beautiful sentence:  “Therefore, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and constraints, for the sake of Christ; for when I am weak, then I am strong.”

As we know accepting limitations and the thorns that God permits are not easy for us either. It is possible, however, if we truly become men and women of prayer.  Prayer connects us to the source of all wisdom and strength, prayer connects us to God himself.  In the midst of his pain, St Paul turned to prayer: “Three times I begged the Lord about this…” he writes in today’s Second Reading.  And through his prayer God spoke to his heart, telling him: “My grace is sufficient for you, for power is made perfect in weakness.”  Prayer keeps our faith healthy, and only a healthy faith makes visible the hidden wisdom of God.

In today’s Gospel, St Mark tells us that Jesus “was not able to work any mighty deed” in Nazareth, “because of their lack of faith.  If we make prayer a high priority, if we are like Venerable Matthew Talbot making prayer, Mass, the Eucharist, confession and devotion to the BVM, if we make all these a priority we will never lack in faith, and God will be able to work many mighty deeds in our lives, even in the midst of our thorns.  Each of us is weak in some way; we have a thorn, a cross, a temptation and it’s there in that weakness where we will meet our Lord.  It’s in that weakness where He will grace us and make us a saint. 

May our Lord never be amazed by our lack of faith. 

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Daniel Maria Piras is a Franciscan living in Italy.  And he once had an experience very similar to the hemorrhagic woman of today’s Gospel.  Daniel, in 1983, was born into a very dysfunctional family.  There were financial issues and a lot of anger and abuse between his mom and dad.  He said that when he was in Middle School to, “Dull the pain I was carrying in my heart,” he turned to alcohol and drugs.  By the time he was 16 he was hopelessly addicted.  He couldn’t stop.  For the next 7 years he said, “I could not escape that bondage.”  “I was weak, it was a vicious cycle.” 

Daniel tried methadone to help ease the addiction but it just didn’t seem to work.  It was during this time of addiction that Daniel’s mom has a conversion experience.  She came back to the Catholic Faith.  And family life started to improve.  Her decision to love again; made a difference in every single family member’s life.  Through her example Daniel began to call on Jesus for help.  When Daniel was 23 his mom invited him to a “Renewal in the Spirit” conference.  The theme of that conference was based on Psalm 107, God’s power to heal, specifically this line from the Psalm, “He brought them out of darkness and gloom and broke their bonds asunder.”  The Franciscan priest leading the conference made a strong impression on Daniel and so after one of the talks Daniel went to the priest to ask him for a blessing. 

Daniel got his blessing, and the priest told him, “Ask Jesus to intervene.”  By the time Daniel got back to his seat a period of prayer before the exposed Blessed Sacrament had begun.  Daniel said that at that moment he has a great desire to go and touch Jesus, to go and touch the Eucharist.  And so, he did.  No one stopped him as he approached the altar.  He looked around but no one came to tell him to go back to his seat.  So, there in front of the altar he knelt and then he reached up and touched the monstrance.  He then went quickly back to his seat.  No one said anything to him.  He got away with it!

As Daniel was making his way back to his seat a passage from the prophet Daniel was being read, this is what he heard, “He is the living God, enduring forever; His kingdom shall never be destroyed, and his dominion shall be to the end.  He delivers and rescues, He works signs and wonders in Heaven and on Earth!”  And there sitting in his pew Daniel began to experience something, something physical, he got really hot, and he began to sweat profusely, and his whole body shook as he sobbed and cried.  Daniel’s mom seeing this said to him, “I think God has healed you.”  The next morning there were no more withdrawal symptoms as there had been every morning for the past year.  No need for methadone.  He was healed.  Two years later Daniel entered the Friars Minor, a branch of the Franciscans.  So even though our Lord has ascended He still heals when we reach out to touch Him. 

In the Gospel today Jesus says, “Do not be afraid, only have faith.”  He says these same words to us today, “Do not be afraid, only have faith.”  God gains entrance into our hearts through faith.   He knows that life in this fallen world can be a pilgrimage through fears, but with our Lord we can conquer them all. 

He is telling us:

· Do not be afraid of what other people will think of you: follow the way I teach you.

· Do not be afraid of failure: following God’s will is the only path to everlasting success;

Do not be afraid of changing your personal plans in order to follow God more closely: his plans are even better…

· If fear, confusion, or lack of trust in Christ still has too much power over us, it is because our faith is still immature.  We need to make it grow; and we can make it grow, simply by exercising it.  And the easiest way to exercise it is by developing more our life of prayer.

· Spending time alone with God each day (has to be every day), speaking to him, listening to him by reading and reflecting on the sacred scriptures, and then talking with him in the quiet of our hearts throughout the day’s activities.

Every time we pray sincerely, especially in front of the Eucharist, we exercise our faith, and exercising it makes it grow, like a muscle.

And the more our faith grows, the weaker our fears become.

After being touched by the hemorrhagic woman Jesus feels his power leave.  There is an older translation of this Gospel passage that uses the word “virtue” instead of power so that it reads like this instead, “Jesus, aware at once that virtue had gone out from him, turned around in the crowd and asked, ‘who has touched my clothes?’”  With great faith in touching our Lord, the hemorrhagic woman was healed and filled with virtue.  Some will say that when we sit in prayer before the Eucharist, we are like the hemorrhagic woman draining our Lord of power and virtue.  And He can never be depleted.  To sit before the Eucharist in prayer we fill our soul with His power, with his virtue, we strengthen our faith, and we find healing. 

 Pope Benedict once said, “Prayer is a reality: God listens to us and, when we pray, God enters into our lives, he becomes present among us, works among us. Praying is a very important thing that can change the world, because it makes the power of God present.”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

St. Philip Neri lived in Rome during the 16^th century.  He was a great counteractive to the Protestant reformation.  He was known as the Apostle of Rome.  He brought many people back to the Church and back to holiness.  Many of the influential people of the time were formed in holiness by him.   Now the Masses that St. Philip celebrated were always crowded, the people were there to hear what he had to say, to receive his blessings and of course, most important of all, to receive the Holy Eucharist. 

Now there was a time when St. Philip Neri was greatly distracted at these Masses, there was a gentleman who upset him greatly towards the end of Mass.  And it happened for several weeks in a row.  The man would leave the Church immediately after receiving Holy Communion.  He’d receive and then just walk out the door and onto the street.  No time for reflection, no time for prayer, nothing, just back to regular life.  As if nothing important had happened. 

So, after a few weeks of this St. Philip finally met with the man to tell him to stay in Church, to spend some time in prayer, after receiving Holy Communion.  Telling him, something very important has happened.  You have received the Lord into your very being.  You have received the Lord into your body and soul.  We must respect and honor that great and beautiful moment with prayer, and with thanksgiving, and with praise, and sometimes with petition.  This is not a moment to be taken lightly.  The man smiled and totally agreed, shaking his head yes and saying OK father, will do.  I’ll stay.

And so, the next week comes and again the man leaves immediately after Communion, walking straight out the door.  St. Philip comes up with a plan.  The next week as the man leaves, he is joined by three altar boys.  They were prepared and waiting for him.  One boy follows ringing a small bell. The other two flank him, each carrying a candle.  It was a mini-Eucharistic procession.  The man got the point, he was a walking tabernacle, and he never left early again. 

Tomorrow, June 24^th, we remember the birthday of St. John the Baptist, the greatest of all prophets.  Jesus said of him that there is no man born of woman greater than John the Baptist.  He stands as a marker between the Old and New Testaments.  He represents all the prophets of the Old Testament who along with him point to the New Era of Jesus Christ.   Now there are two statements concerning John the Baptist that I want to focus on.  First, as he was once referring to Jesus he said, “He must increase, and I must decrease.”  It’s about Him; it’s about Jesus it’s not about me. This is our statement too, as Christians we say, “He must increase, and I must decrease.”  Jesus must increase within me; my ego must decrease.  That time of prayer and thanksgiving after Communion is the most important time of the week.  Our Lord is physically present within us.  We become those walking tabernacles.  In those moments of grace, in those moments of praise and thanksgiving after Communion we desire (or should desire) that His presence and influence become greater and greater in our lives.  That we become those fruitful branches connected to his Divine Vine.     That when people look at us they see only Him.  They see only Jesus!  “He must increase I must decrease.” 

Second, John is the voice of one crying out in the wilderness.  He came to make straight the way of the Lord, and to preach the forgiveness of sins.    John is the voice, but Jesus is the Word, capital W word.  The Word made flesh.  John made Jesus known with his voice.  Now we too have a voice, we too can be a voice crying out in the wilderness.  And it does sometimes seem like a wilderness out there, devoid of anything sacred or holy.     If we choose, Jesus can be our Word, capital W word, spoken to the wilderness all around us.   

My prayer for us today, that nourished by the Eucharist, nourished by the Word made Flesh, that we are made ever more fruitful, that our voices loudly proclaim Jesus the Word.  Our voice will last only for a time, but Jesus the Word is eternal.  

Let us become great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

“To what shall we compare the kingdom of God?  It is like a mustard seed, the smallest of all the seeds on the earth.  But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants.”  When Jesus was conceived within the womb of the Virgin Mary, he was microscopic.  Just like us at our conception he was tiny, he was no more than the size of a mustard seed.  But now today His Mystical Body extends the world over, His Mystical Body extends even beyond space and time into eternity.  With our baptism we became a part of something magnificent and holy; we became a member of the Mystical Body of Jesus, something magnificent and holy.  Do we always recognize the greatness of the divine flowering of the mustard seed within us and in the people around us?  Do we always recognize Jesus within us and the people around us?

I have a story about a rich young man by the name of Alexis.  He lived in Rome during the fourth or fifth century and he lived at a time when it had just become legal to be a Catholic.  People could finally practice the Christian faith out in the open.   Both of Alexis’ parents were devout Catholics and his father was a senator.  Alexis’ parents taught him the faith and taught him to be especially charitable to the poor.  When Alexis was a teenager, he decided that he wanted to give up everything, give up his wealth and give up his place of privilege in Roman society.  He wanted to live a life of poverty and prayer, and he wanted to do this all for God, but his parents had other plans for him.  They had arranged for him to marry a rich young woman.  And because it was their will for him, he went along with it.  He really listened to his parents.  Yet on his wedding day when he saw his bride for the first time, he had second thoughts, this woman was smart, loving, and beautiful, and she would be a great wife, but even so, he asked for her permission to leave her for God.  She gave him permission.   So, he left.

He made his way to Syria, where he lived the life of a beggar.  Any money he received he first shared with the many poor people around him using only what was left over for himself.  When he wasn’t begging he was praying in the various churches of the city.  After living this way for several years people began to recognize him for his extraordinary holiness.  People would come to him for advice and to ask for his prayers.  They called him the living saint.  And this made Alexis very uncomfortable.  So after seventeen years in Syria he made his way back to Rome and to his parents’ house.  He came as a beggar to his own house where he’d grown up.  His parents didn’t recognize him and so he started living under the stairs leading up to their front door.  His parents allowed him to live there not knowing who he really was.  And there he stayed spending his time begging for food, praying in the churches of Rome, and teaching the homeless about God.  With his parents never realizing who he was, even though they passed him and looked at him every day as they went to and from their house. 

One morning, after 17 years of living under the stairs, the servants found him dead.  But before burying him they went through his few possessions, even going through the pockets of the jacket he was wearing.  And in one of his pockets, they found a note.  The note explained to them who he was and how he had lived this life of penance and prayer from the day his wedding was supposed to take place until then, a total of thirty-four years.  Writing that he did it all for the love of God.  Praying and sacrificing for the people of God.

When Alexis’ mother came to look and to hold the dead body of her son she cried out, “My son, my Alexis, I have known you too late! You were there all the time and I never really saw you.” She was heartbroken.  She had seen her son every day for seventeen years, yet she didn’t really see him.  She had heard her son every day for seventeen years, yet she didn’t really hear him.  She had invited her son into her home, yet she didn’t really invite him in.   He got only as far as the space beneath the stairs.  It was a superficial relationship.  Alexis’ parents looked at their son every day for 17 years without ever really seeing him.  And then it was too late.

Do we always recognize the greatness of the divine mustard seed within us and in the people around us?  Do we always recognize Jesus within us and in the people around us?  Pope St. John Paul II was very good at this recognition of the divine within.  They say that when you talked with him you had his total attention and concentration.  In his papers St. John Paul wrote about this, he would say that each one of us is unrepeatable and incomparably unique.  Even within the unbaptized there is a soul that is unrepeatable and incomparably unique, and he paid attention.  He recognized the divine within, a soul made in the image and likeness of God, a soul with a whole lifetime of joys and sorrows, a soul with a whole lifetime of successes and failures, a soul made for communion with God.  St. John Paul paid attention. 

I give you homework this week; practice paying attention to those around you; the clerk behind the counter, the man at the street corner, your spouse, your children.   Recognize the greatness of the divine flowering of the mustard seed, recognize Jesus within, and recognize the greatness of the immortal soul within.

“To what shall we compare the kingdom of God?  It is like a mustard seed, the smallest of all the seeds on the earth.  But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plants and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade.” 

Maybe you’re the one meant to provide shade to one seeking the Kingdom of God.  May we pray for the grace to pay attention.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In this letter my goal is to try and tie together the words “Amen” and “Laetare” with the story of Nicodemus.  Amen is a little word with a big meaning.  It’s a word we say at the end of every prayer and it’s a word that we say ten times during the Mass.  Unfortunately, because it’s a word that is so frequently expressed, we may sometimes say it without thinking about it.  

In today’s Gospel we hear of Nicodemus.  And Nicodemus was a Pharisee who at this point in his life only visits Jesus at night.  He goes back and forth between faith and doubt, between trust and mistrust, and between courage and fear.  Now Nicodemus has a little bit of faith in Jesus, but it was at best a beginning and an immature belief.  That’s why he only shows up under the cover of darkness.  He doesn’t want anyone to see him with Jesus.  He had respect for what Jesus did, for His solid teaching and impressive miracles, but Nicodemus had a very limited understanding of just who Jesus was.  He believed that God was with Jesus, but he did not yet believe that Jesus was God.  Nicodemus’ faith in Jesus was wishy-washy.  Nicodemus couldn’t give a clear and firm Amen to Jesus.    The most he could manage was “maybe.”

Only to the degree that I trust someone am I able to entrust myself to that person.  Nicodemus’ faith hadn’t yet matured to that point of total trust, so very cautiously he came to Jesus under cover of night.  The darkness of Nicodemus was not only a protection against being detected, it was also a state of mind, a condition of his soul, and a sign of his immature faith.  Now looking at scripture we see other models of faith.  And during this season of lent as we make our way to Good Friday we first look to the good thief on the cross who made a faith-filled request of Jesus.  He asked, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”  This is faith, this is trust, this is truly an Amen.   And as we continue to look at Good Friday the greatest amen of all is that of crucified Jesus Himself.  Deserted by his disciples, rejected by the very people He tried to help, condemned to die, and moments away from death, still He trusted.  Even then He could say, “Father into your hands, I commend my Spirit.  I entrust my very self to you.”  The greatest amen. 

This little word “Amen” means certainly, truly, surely.  It means I agree, I accept, I affirm, I believe.  It is a word of total conviction and commitment.  It is a word of trust, a trust that enables me to give myself to the Divine.  We can see why “Amen” is the language of prayer and faith.  It says we trust, we have confidence, and we accept as true.  Later, in the Gospel of John we read that Nicodemus was able to give the great Amen.  He later supported Jesus before the chief priests and Pharisees, he helped bury Jesus, and according to tradition he was a martyr for the faith.  With his life he gave the great Amen. 

Today is Laetare Sunday and Laetare is a word that means rejoice.  And we use the color of rose to symbolize this rejoicing.  Rose-colored vestments, and rose-colored flowers are like the pale color of the horizon when the dark night just begins to brighten just as the sun begins to rise.  Rose is the color of sunrise, it’s the color of the promise of sunlight.  Just think of that pinkish hue we see in the sky as the sun begins to come up.  Spiritually speaking it’s the promise of the coming Easter, and the promise of the eternal Easter at the end of time.  And to speak of another color, the color rose eventually gives rise to the golden color of the sun, symbolizing the eternal goldness of basking in the light of our Lord. 

Nicodemus once lived in darkness, his amen was very weak.  With grace he moved to the Laetare dawn of his salvation, his amen became strong and committed, and now in Heaven, basking in the golden light of our Lord his amen is perfected. 

We are all familiar with Michelangelo’s iconic painting of God creating Adam.  It’s on the top of the Sistine Chapel.  God’s finger is reaching out to Adam’s finger, Heaven is reaching out to earth.  And in that space between the two fingers that’s where we find the Mass, Heaven reaching out to earth.  This is the place of Laetare rejoicing and it’s the place of the great Amen of certainly, truly, surely, and of I agree, I accept, I affirm, I bleieve.  It’s where we live in the Rose-colored sunrise of salvation looking toward to the golden light of the eternal Easter of Heaven.  This should fill us with hopeful joy. 

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Imagine for a moment that one morning while you’re standing in the bathroom and you’re just staring at yourself in the mirror and the reflection of you, that image of you that you see staring back begins to talk.      This image of you begins to talk to you saying, “You know I don’t really need you anymore.  You’re holding me back I have these new and exciting ideas and interests.  I don’t need you.”  Of course, this would be a foolish thing for the mirror image of you to say because once you leave the proximity of the bathroom mirror, once you stop looking into the mirror the image would cease to exist, it would disappear.  The image in the mirror needs you to exist. 

As we know you and I are made in the image and likeness of God.  We were created out of his love because love when it’s real and true always wants to share, God wanted to share his endless joy with us; we are creatures of his love.  And there’s no one person created on this earth who is not carried and surrounded by his infinite and benevolent and ecstatic love.  If for just one nanosecond God were to stop loving us, to stop beholding us, to stop looking upon us in his loving gaze we would cease to exist.  We’d be like that image in the mirror when we step away; gone.  But this isn’t going to happen because God created us to spend eternity with him and he isn’t about to stop beholding us in a gaze of ecstatic love. We on the other hand are sometimes like that image in the mirror distracted from God by our own exciting ideas, and our own interests, and our idols.

For this third week of Lent, we are given the Ten Commandments for our first reading.  These commandments are the foundation of Western Society and they’re intended to keep us pure of heart, to keep God at the very center of our heart and soul.  The first three commandments deal with right relationship with God while the next seven deal with right relationship with our families and neighbors.  However, the Bible places a great emphasis on the first three commandments because we won’t love our neighbor right until we love God right.  The first commandment states, “I am the Lord your God…you shall not have other gods besides me.”   These few words are the spiritual foundation of our life.  And you can tell a lot about a person by how he or she answers these questions, “Who or what do you worship?  What do you hold to be of highest value? Where is your treasure?”  Is it pleasure, health, reputation, wealth, power, ego, family, or business?  What do you hold to be of highest value?  St. Ambrose would say, “Where a person’s heart is, there is his treasure also.”

We heard next in the first reading that, “I, the Lord, your God, am a jealous God.”   Now this word jealous is not to be read as an emotion.  We can’t add or detract from God.  We can’t add anything to God; we can’t take anything from God. We can’t change him in any way, he’s already perfect, and we can’t make him emotionally jealous.  The worship of God benefits us, not God.  Let me repeat that, the worship of God benefits us not God.    God is jealous because he wants us to be fully alive and the way for us to be fully alive is to stop worshipping idols whatever they may be and to worship God alone.   We exist for Him.

And then we heard, “Remember to keep holy the Sabbath day.”  Keeping this day holy we demonstrate that God is the highest love in our life.  We set aside a day for God, He is the one we worship above all people and things, not in the abstract but through concrete set of actions. 

As we know, the Saints are experts at loving through concrete actions, Mass, prayer, and corporal and spiritual works of mercy.  From the life of St. Catherine of Siena, we have an example of her great intimacy with Jesus. St. Catherine was a third order Dominican and as a third order Dominican she made a promise to pray the Liturgy of the Hours every day.  In her great intimacy with Jesus St. Catherine would sometimes hold a dialogue with our Lord (some of these dialogues are written down for us to read); on one occasion she prayed the psalms of the Liturgy of the Hours with Jesus.  At the end of each Psalm the “Glory be” prayer is prayed, and St. Catherine prayed it like this: “Glory to the Father, and to thee, and to the Holy Spirit.”  Jesus was right there with her, and she addressed him as “thee.”  This might not sound too extraordinary to the modern ear, but to use the words “thee” and “thy” and “thou” shows a great intimacy and love.  Thee, thy, and thou are the informal words for you and yours.  Thee and thy and thou are used when speaking to someone very close to you, someone you love.  The words “you” and “yours” are used when addressing someone you’re not too close to, someone not a member of the family.  St. Catherine addressed Jesus as “thee” a personal and intimate word.  The same word we use with the “Our Father” and “Hail Mary.” 

Of all the World religions Christianity is unique; we address God with intimate and personal words.  Our transcendent Lord, who created the universe, loves us personally and individually and ecstatically.  In John’s gospel Jesus says to us, “I no longer call you slaves…I have called you friends.”  And we call him Thee.  To obey and adhere to the first three commandments protects and nurtures our personal relationship with our Lord.  Scripture tells us and all the saints throughout the centuries tell us that we only find happiness to the extent to where God is made first in our lives.  To help us make God first in our lives and to help us obey the first three commandments I encourage everyone to spend an hour a week in front of the Eucharist, that can be where the Eucharist is exposed for adoration or simply coming to sit in church when the Eucharist is reposed in the tabernacle.  This will make a difference in your life.  You might feel like nothing is happening, but God is slowly and carefully transforming you into the saint He knows you can become. 

Pope St. John Paul II was a great proponent of spending time in front of the Eucharist. He wanted every parish in the world to have some form of Eucharistic adoration.   In his own personal chapel he had a desk and that’s where he wrote a majority of his letters and encyclicals.  He once said, “The Church has received the Eucharist from Christ her Lord not as one gift—however precious—among so many others, but as the gift par excellence, for it is the gift of himself, of his person in his sacred humanity.”  And “It is pleasant to spend time with Him, to lie close to his breast like the beloved disciple and to feel the infinite love present in his heart.” 

Our Lord looks upon us always, let us spend more time looking upon Him.

Let us become great saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

We are still at the beginning of Lent, but today the Church talks to us about the Resurrection.  In the transfiguration of Jesus in today’s Gospel, Peter, James, and John get a glimpse of Christ’s eternal glory, the glory he fully claims after the resurrection.  And in our first reading too we get a hint of the resurrection.  Abraham and Isaac lived almost 2000 years before Christ yet this incident from their lives is a symbol of the resurrection.  When Isaac is freed from his bonds he’s given a new life, a symbol of Christ’s new life after rising from the bonds of death.  And even today’s psalm, when it speaks about walking with the Lord in the Land of the living and God “loosening the bonds” of his servant, this is also pointing our attention towards Christ’s resurrection. 

So even though Easter is more than a month away, we are being reminded of the resurrection as we enter more fully into the season of lent.  As we know lent is meant to be a time of repentance and penitence, a time of sacrifice and a time of reflection in which we acknowledge the weight of suffering in the world and in our lives, suffering that many times has its roots in sin.  This suffering is always part of the story of every human life, with or without Christ.  Suffering is always a part of the story with or without Christ, but with Christ, suffering is not the end of the story.  Crosses purify us, crosses purify us of selfishness, if we let them; crosses teach us to lean more and more on Christ so as to have a greater experience of his wisdom and joy, his resurrection.  In our Catholic faith, the cross and the resurrection are two sides of the same coin; we never allow ourselves to think of one without thinking of the other.  There is no Easter Resurrection without Good Friday. 

That is why a Christian never has to be afraid of suffering.  We are like the child who walks at night when all is pitch black, holding his father’s hand, we know that our Father can handle the darkness and lead us through it.  (Dad can do anything) The Christian can face suffering, embrace it, work through it, and transform it and help others do the same.  And we do it by holding onto that hand of the Father, leaning on Grace.  With Christ, the pains and sorrows of life become opportunities and springboards for becoming spiritually mature. 

Pope Benedict once said that we can try to limit suffering, or to fight against it, but we can’t eliminate it.  Now there are instances when we should avoid suffering and look for solutions but there will always be some suffering where solutions are not easily found.  Pope Benedict goes on to say, that when we try to avoid suffering by withdrawing from anything that might involve hurt, when we try to spare ourselves the effort and pain of pursuing truth, or love, or goodness, then we drift into a life of emptiness.  And in this state, there may be almost no pain, but the dark sensation of meaninglessness and abandonment is all the greater.  It’s not by sidestepping or running from suffering that we are healed, but rather we are healed by our capacity for accepting it, maturing through it and finding meaning through union with Christ who suffered with infinite love.  A balance between the cross and the resurrections is a balance between sorrow and joy.  They both work for our good.

I have a story.  It’s about St. Germaine, in her life there were moments of great joy, like the transfiguration or Easter Sunday and there were moments of suffering, moments of the Cross, like Good Friday.  But with both joy and suffering she became a saint.  The joy reminded her of the goodness of God and the suffering helped her to lean more and more on God.  Germaine was born in Toulouse France in 1579.  She was born with a crippled right arm that she could never use.  Her parents, whoever they were, abandoned her as soon as she was born, leaving her on the porch of a farmer and his wife.  This couple took her in, but they never grew to love her.  They neglected her, forcing her to live in the barn.  Food was left for her outside the door of the kitchen, usually just bread and water.  Sometimes they would even beat her. 

Now even with all these crosses there were joys in her life.  She taught the catechism to poor kids in the village.  She brought bread to the poor and she enjoyed the company and kindness of the people at church.  These were small joys for Germaine reminding her of God’s goodness.  But the one great joy in her life was that she was allowed to go to Mass on Sunday.  And by going to Mass every Sunday she grew to appreciate and love the Eucharist and with this increasing love she wanted to go to Mass every day.  But she couldn’t because she had to watch the sheep out in the field all day.  So, during the week when the church bells rang announcing the beginning of Mass she would turn toward the church and pray.  Praying with all the sheep around her, she would make a spiritual communion. 

One day our Lord spoke to Germaine’s heart and gave her an inspiration.  She took her cane and jammed it into the ground, telling her sheep not to leave; they didn’t, and off to Mass she ran, when she got back all her sheep were still there all gathered around her cane.  She did this every day, before going to Mass she jammed her cane into the ground and all the sheep gathered around it; she never lost a sheep.  Germaine died at the age of 22 and many miracles have been attributed to her intercession. 

Both the Cross of Good Friday and the joys of the Resurrection were a part of Germaine’s life.  They helped her grow in holiness.  The crosses of physical disability and family neglect helped her to lean more on God.  The joys of Godly friendship with the children she taught, the poor she helped, and the Eucharist reminded her of God’s goodness and that gave her hope.  Both the cross and the resurrection are necessary for our growth in holiness.  God allows us to experience both, in accordance with the timing that he deems best.  On the mountain tops, those resurrection moments of great joy he strengthens our hope, and with crosses he strengthens our love, as we learn to cling to him more and more. 

The crosses teach us to lean on Jesus and the true joys of life speak to us in a small way of the Heavenly joys to come. 

Let us become great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

To contemplate the face of Jesus, this is our calling, this is our destiny.  As we read in the Book of Revelation, “They shall see him face to face.”  We shall see our Lord face to face.

I have a story about St. Anthony of Padua.  Now the story I have about him happened when he was just 9 years old.  St Anthony belonged to a wealthy family, and they had the tradition of generously giving to the poor. 

One day a beggar knocked at their door.  And it was Anthony who opened the door.  And there standing in front of him was a very poor looking man.  Seeing the sad plight of the beggar Anthony dropped a small bag of gold coins into his hands.  But the beggar refused the money and gave it back.  So, Anthony went to the kitchen and came back with a platter filled with all sorts of fruit and bread.  But again, the beggar refused.  Anthony then went into his dad’s room and got some clothing and a nice warm coat for the beggar.  And again, the beggar refused the gifts.  Anthony was losing his patience and in frustration, staring into the face of the beggar he said, “What do you want me to give you?”  And the beggar looked straight into his eyes and said, “I want your sins!”  Simple as that, “I want your sins!” 

At once the beggar disappeared leaving Anthony all alone.  It was a mystical moment that he never forgot, he was deeply moved, realizing that it was Jesus who had appeared as the beggar.  Our Lord wanted his sins.  In this story Anthony stared into the face of Jesus, and all Jesus wanted was his sins.  To look into the face of divine innocence, to look into the face of Jesus, is to know that you’re accepted, and your sins are forgiven.  And the face of Divine innocence, the face of divine love is experienced by us as mercy. 

In the Bible the wish to see God’s face is expressed 100 times.  God has a face, and this means he is someone we can enter into a relationship with.  He talks to us, he listens to us, he sees us, he makes a covenant, and he loves.   The desire to know God truly, the desire to see God’s face, is innate in every human being, even in atheists, they just don’t know it.  As St. Augustine once wrote, “Our hearts are restless until they rest in you O Lord.”    And as we know God had shown his face, he is visible in Jesus Christ.

During the season of Lent, we spend time focusing and pondering the Passion of our Lord.  On that first Good Friday on a cross next to our crucified Lord was a man we have traditionally called the “good thief.”  Now the good thief had been looking for meaning his whole life, but always looking in all the wrong places.  And now on the very last day of his life he sees the face that clarifies everything, and it brings peace to his heart.  That face of Divine Innocence received the sinner on the cross next to him.  And the thief yielded to the love of God giving him all his failures, all of his sins, and all of his fears and in return the good thief was filled with God, hearing the most beautiful words ever spoken, “Today you will be with me in Paradise.” 

St. John Chrysostom once wrote, “The man to whom these words were spoken was a robber, one ignorant of the sublime truths of religion, knowing nothing of the prophecies, who had spent all his life in desert places, committing many murders, never hearing the Word of God, or being present at the reading of the Holy Scriptures.” 

“Was there ever a creature as miserable as this robber?  And suddenly, in the twinkling of an eye, he attains the greatest happiness.  He had committed hundreds of murders; his life had been spent in wickedness.  As many, as witness his death, accuse his crimes.  And yet now he is made blessed, because during a few seconds of time he had feared God, as God ought to be feared.” 

“Whence the change?  A sound of that Voice, which breaks the cedars and makes the mountains tremble, had found its way into the heart of the thief; and this heart of stone had been changed into a heart of flesh; the heart of a brute had become that of a man; and the heart of this infamous sinner had been transformed into that of a saint.  A ray of the Sun of Justice had fallen upon his countenance, and his whole body had become lightsome.  His hideous deformity had given place to superhuman beauty, even angelic grace; and his mouth, which had been full of blasphemies, now uttered words sweet as honey, pleasant as the lowly violet.  Such is this admirable metamorphosis of Calvary; a wolf became a lamb, a blasphemer turned into an evangelist, a vile criminal transformed into one of the greatest saints.”

“The mercy of God had done everything.  For what had this robber said or done?  Had he fasted, and wept, and afflicted his body, and done penance during a long time?  Nothing of all this.  But on the cross itself, immediately after the sentence of death, he received his pardon.  See with what speed he was transferred from the cross to heaven.  In the midst of torment, he found salvation.” 

He looked into the Face of Divine innocence, he saw no judgment, and he was received.   In his struggle the good thief looked into the face of Christ.  He looks into the face of the one who fills his heart with meaning and restores his dignity.  In our struggles do we seek the Face of Jesus?

 Do we look for the Face of Jesus?

In the Eucharist

In the Confessional

In our Spouse, or loved ones

In our fellow Parishioners, or in our neighbors?

Where do we look for the face of Jesus?

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Blessed Benedetta Porro was born in 1936.  When she was very young, she contracted polio which left her crippled.  She was very intelligent and at the age of 5 she began to keep a diary. When she was 7 she wrote this, “The universe is enchanting!  It is great to be alive.”  As a teenager, Benedetta began going deaf, but despite this, she entered medical school where she was the top student.  She took her oral exams by reading the lips of her professors.  She had a great desire to become a doctor, but she struggled with an illness that kept getting worse.  With the loss of her hearing, she also lost her sight, and the use of her legs.  After five years of medical training, just one year short of completing her degree, she was forced to end her studies. 

She was eventually diagnosed with Von Recklinghausen’s disease.  In a short period of time Benedetta could only move her left hand.  She was able to communicate when her family would sign the alphabet into her left palm.  Benedetta struggled mightily with spiritual darkness and the temptation to despair, but after a trip to Lourdes she reported an interior healing saying, “I am aware more than ever of the richness of my condition and I don’t desire anything but to continue in it.” 

As her world shrank she demonstrated an extraordinary courage and holiness and she was visited by many who sought her counsel and prayers.  Instead of becoming a medical doctor she became a kind of doctor to the soul to all who visited.  In a letter to a young man who suffered from the same disease she wrote: “Because I’m deaf and blind, things have become complicated for me. …Nevertheless, in my Calvary, I do not lack hope. I know that at the end of the road, Jesus is waiting for me. I have discovered that God exists, that He is love, faithfulness, joy, certitude, to the end of the ages. … My days are not easy. They are hard but also sweet because Jesus is with me, with my sufferings, and He gives me His sweetness in my loneliness and light in the darkness. He smiles at me and accepts my collaboration.”  Blessed Benedetta Porro died in 1964 at the age of 28. 

The point is often made that it’s hard to keep one’s trust in God while suffering.  Even Jesus on the Cross pronounced the words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”  Was that a lack of trust on his part?  No, no lack of trust, because Jesus’ words are in fact the opening words of Psalm 22, which expresses great distress at the beginning but ends on a magnificent note of hope:  they shall tell of the Lord to generations yet to come, declare his faithfulness to peoples yet unborn.

Jesus’ faith was tested to the limit, but he did not lose trust.  Sometimes a trial of suffering is a call to go to the extremes of trust.  And every trial, no matter what its causes and characteristics are, is a trial of faith of hope, and of love. 

Every trial is a trial of faith.  We ask ourselves “What is God doing in all of this?  Does he really love me?  Is he present in what I am living through?”  No matter the trial (sickness, unemployment, family issues, or something else) trust in God is put to the test.  We might doubt God’s love, we might accuse him of abandoning us, and we might rebel against him.  However, it is possible, and this is a beautiful and constructive thing; to see this time of trial as a call to have a more determined, mature, and adult faith. 

The questions we are faced with are these:  What is God doing?  Is He faithful?  Can He draw good out of what is happening?  These are questions of faith.  And we are invited to respond by deciding to have faith:  I believe!  I continue to trust God! Even though I can’t’ see, even though I don’t feel anything, even though appearances are against it, I decide to believe.  I will believe that God is faithful, that he will not let me fall, that he can draw something positive out of everything that is happening to me.  I believe.

Every trial is a trial of hope.  When we are having a difficult time, some of the questions that come up:  In this painful experience, what do I rely on?  What am I counting on?  In what or in whom do I place my hope?  The answer we’re invited to give is:  I’m counting on the Lord; I’m expecting help from Him.  That doesn’t mean I’m not going to apply all the human resources available, but at the deepest level I abandon myself into God’s hands, and it is in him that I hope. 

Our only real security and we have no other is that God’s mercy is unlimited.  God is infinitely good and faithful.  He is our rock.  All the rest; salary, health, education, qualifications, friends, our own strength, our virtues can leave us.  All these are valuable things, they are good and  we should welcome them, but never make them our security.  For God alone is absolute security.  He’ll never forsake us, it’s not in his nature to forsake.  It is in God that I hope. 

Every trial is a trial of love.  Maybe our relationship with God is in crisis or maybe it’s our relationship with family or neighbor.  Sometimes we might lose a taste for prayer.  What does that trial mean?  It’s a call to continue praying all the same, because we don’t pray just because we enjoy it or experience satisfaction, but first and foremost we pray to praise and thank God.  When we find great pleasure in it, that’s fine, but when prayer is difficult, we need to keep going just the same!  When we keep praying, even when we don’t want to, that purifies our love for God, which becomes freer, more genuine, and not just a selfish search for ourselves. 

Or maybe it’s in our relationship with family or neighbor.  You loved your husband when he was young, handsome, well-behaved, pleasant, and answered all your expectations.  But now you observe that he is sometimes bad-tempered, that he has a few wrinkles and is getting fat; do you continue to love him? Do you love him for yourself, or do you love him truly, with a love that consists of wanting his good, and not only seeking your own satisfaction?  We are constantly faced with this kind of trial in loving another person as he or she is, loving them freely and forgiving them. 

Loving those who are close to us is more difficult, but this is what the genuineness of our love for God will be judged on!  The surest way of loving God is to love the people around us, loving them in a considerate way, praying for them, and accepting them as they are. 

In every trial we ask ourselves:  What act of faith am I being invited to make?  What attitude of hope am I being called to live by?  And what conversion of love am I called to, so that my love is purer and truer. 

The leper of today’s gospel suffered but in trust he made a statement of faith, hope and love by kneeling down and saying to Jesus, “If you wish, you can make me clean.”  And he was made clean.  Benedetta Porro suffered but in trust she made a statement of faith, hope, and love by saying, “I do not lack hope.  I know that at the end of the road, Jesus is waiting for me.  He is love, faithfulness, and joy to the end of the ages.”  And now she is now among the blessed of heaven.  On the Cross Jesus suffered but in trust he made a statement of faith, hope, and love, by saying, “Into your hands Lord I commend my Spirit.”  And on the third day in great glory, He rose from the dead. 

When you suffer ask yourself three questions:  what is my act of faith, what is my attitude of hope, and what is my conversion of love? 

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley