Category: Pastor’s Corner

From a sermon of St Bernard of Clairvaux

Let us make haste to our brethren who are awaiting us

Why should our praise and glorification, or even the celebration of this feast day mean anything to the saints? What do they care about earthly honors when their heavenly Father honors them by fulfilling the faithful promise of the Son? What does our commendation mean to them? The saints have no need of honor from us; neither does our devotion add the slightest thing to what is theirs. Clearly, if we venerate their memory, it serves us, not them. But I tell you, when I think of them, I feel myself inflamed by a tremendous yearning.

Calling the saints to mind inspires, or rather arouses in us, above all else, a longing to enjoy their company, so desirable in itself. We long to share in the citizenship of heaven, to dwell with the spirits of the blessed, to join the assembly of patriarchs, the ranks of the prophets, the council of apostles, the great host of martyrs, the noble company of confessors and the choir of virgins. In short, we long to be united in happiness with all the saints. But our dispositions change. The Church of all the first followers of Christ awaits us, but we do nothing about it. The saints want us to be with them, and we are indifferent. The souls of the just await us, and we ignore them.

Come, brothers, let us at length spur ourselves on. We must rise again with Christ, we must seek the world which is above and set our mind on the things of heaven. Let us long for those who are longing for us, hasten to those who are waiting for us, and ask those who look for our coming to intercede for us. We should not only want to be with the saints, we should also hope to possess their happiness. While we desire to be in their company, we must also earnestly seek to share in their glory. Do not imagine that there is anything harmful in such an ambition as this; there is no danger in setting our hearts on such glory.

When we commemorate the saints we are inflamed with another yearning: that Christ our life may also appear to us as he appeared to them and that we may one day share in his glory. Until then we see him, not as he is, but as he became for our sake. He is our head, crowned, not with glory, but with the thorns of our sins. As members of that head, crowned with thorns, we should be ashamed to live in luxury; his purple robes are a mockery rather than an honor. When Christ comes again, his death shall no longer be proclaimed, and we shall know that we also have died, and that our life is hidden with him. The glorious head of the Church will appear and his glorified members will shine in splendor with him, when he forms this lowly body anew into such glory as belongs to himself, its head.

Therefore, we should aim at attaining this glory with a wholehearted and prudent desire. That we may rightly hope and strive for such blessedness, we must above all seek the prayers of the saints. Thus, what is beyond our own powers to obtain will be granted through their intercession.

From St Ambrose’s book on the death of his brother Satyrus

Let us die with Christ, to live with Christ

We see that death is gain, life is loss. Paul says: For me life is Christ, and death a gain. What does “Christ” mean but to die in the body, and receive the breath of life? Let us then die with Christ, to live with Christ. We should have a daily familiarity with death, a daily desire for death. By this kind of detachment our soul must learn to free itself from the desires of the body. It must soar above earthly lusts to a place where they cannot come near, to hold it fast. It must take on the likeness of death, to avoid the punishment of death. The law of our fallen nature is at war with the law of our reason and subjects the law of reason to the law of error. What is the remedy? Who will set me free from this body of death? The grace of God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord.

We have a doctor to heal us; let us use the remedy he prescribes. The remedy is the grace of Christ, the dead body our own. Let us then be exiles from our body, so as not to be exiles from Christ. Though we are still in the body, let us not give ourselves to the things of the body. We must not reject the natural rights of the body, but we must desire before all else the gifts of grace.

What more need be said? It was by the death of one man that the world was redeemed. Christ did not need to die if he did not want to, but he did not look on death as something to be despised, something to be avoided, and he could have found no better means to save us than by dying. Thus his death is life for all. We are sealed with the sign of his death; when we pray we preach his death; when we offer sacrifice we proclaim his death. His death is victory; his death is a sacred sign; each year his death is celebrated with solemnity by the whole world.

What more should we say about his death since we use this divine example to prove that it was death alone that won freedom from death, and death itself was its own redeemer? Death is then no cause for mourning, for it is the cause of mankind’s salvation. Death is not something to be avoided, for the Son of God did not think it beneath his dignity, nor did he seek to escape it.

Death was not part of nature; it became part of nature. God did not decree death from the beginning; he prescribed it as a remedy. Human life was condemned because of sin to unremitting labor and unbearable sorrow and so began to experience the burden of wretchedness. There had to be a limit to its evils; death had to restore what life had forfeited. Without the assistance of grace, immortality is more of a burden than a blessing.

The soul has to turn away from the aimless paths of this life, from the defilement of an earthly body; it must reach out to those assemblies in heaven (though it is given only to the saints to be admitted to them) to sing the praises of God. We learn from Scripture how God’s praise is sung to the music of the harp: Great and wonderful are your deeds, Lord God Almighty; just and true are your ways, King of the nations. Who will not revere and glorify your nature? You alone are holy; all nations will come and worship before you. The soul must also desire to witness your nuptials, Jesus, and to see your bride escorted from earthly to heavenly realities, as all rejoice and sing: All flesh will come before you. No longer will the bride be held in subjection to this passing world but will be made one with the spirit.

Above all else, holy David prayed that he might see and gaze on this: One thing I have asked of the Lord, this I shall pray for: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, and to see how gracious is the Lord.

Dear Friends,

There was a man named Camillus and he lived in 16^th century Italy.  He was a big man; they say probably 6 foot 6.  He was obstinate, aggressive, and had a violent temper.  His mom couldn’t control him; in fact she was scared of him.  And so she allowed him to do whatever he wanted.  At the age of 16 he left home and hired himself out as a soldier, he did this for a living; always working for the man who could pay him the most.  As a soldier his bad habits got even worse, he even added gambling to his list of vices.

But even among the soldiers Camillus was too great a disturbance.  His gambling aggravated his violent temper, which led to quarrels, which led to insubordination, which led to him being kicked out.  Kicked out of the army he began wandering from town to town, using gambling as a means of support.  He was soon destitute, living in rags.  It was at this time he began to reflect on his life, he began to remember what his Mom had taught him about the Faith.  He repented, went to confession, the first time in years.

Camillus with a new found freedom went to find his uncle, a Franciscan brother; and he asked to join the Franciscans.  The uncle received him warmly but wasn’t convinced of his conversion and he was turned away.  Camillus was not ready for religious life.  He went back to gambling and brawling.  Camillus was soon again reduced to rags and no money and he developed a wound on his leg that just wouldn’t heal.  He was in Rome at the time and went to St. Giacomo Hospital looking for help.  He had no money so they wouldn’t treat him but they did offer him a job.  Which he gladly took, again Camillus repented and for a time he was the best hospital orderly.  His leg was getting treated, he had a place to sleep and he had food to eat.  The director of the hospital grew to depend on him.  Things were looking up, until he became bored one day and wound up on the roof gambling and fighting.  Camillus fell from grace and again he was kicked out.  Soon he was reduced to begging for food, sitting outside of churches waiting for handouts.  An old Capuchin brother saw him one day and wondered why such a big young man was sitting there begging.  This old Capuchin offered Camillus a job at the Monastery where they were in the middle of a building project.  This old Capuchin saw that his chronic wound was cared for and that Camillus had plenty to eat.  Camillus again repented and this time he really began to reform his life.  There were more slip ups to follow but he always repented and he slowly grew in holiness.

He went on to be ordained and eventually founded the Order of Clerks Regular, Camillians for short.  They worked as health care providers in hospitals and on the battle fields.  Camillus made use of his war experience.  All Camillians wear a large red cross on their cassock; even today they still wear this Red Cross.  It represents charity and service.  It represents Camillus’ great love for God and neighbor.

To grow in our spiritual life is to grow in trust of our Lord.  Can we always and readily say “Jesus I trust you!”  It took St. Camillus many years to get to that level of trust.  To always be able to say, “Jesus I trust you!”  One spiritual writer put it this way; our spiritual life is like playing poker with the devil.  And we always have the winning hand.  The devil can never beat the hand we’ve been dealt.  And we can trust this.  In our hand we have been given first:  Jesus, who took all of our sins upon Himself, taking them up to the cross, crucifying them along with his body, and rising from the dead He conquered sin and death, opening heaven for each of us.  In our hand we have been given second:  the Communion of Saints, all of our friends around us and those in Heaven/Purgatory who help us with their constant prayers.  In our hand we have been given third:  the Church founded by Jesus with her Magisterium, her Scripture, and her Tradition all of which guide us on that narrow road to Heaven.  In our hand we have been given fourth:  the seven sacraments, the Eucharist especially, the sacraments are the very life of God Himself, given to us to wash, nourish, heal, and strengthen our souls.  And in our hand we have been given fifth:  the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, the perfect prayer to the Father, a time machine of sorts that allows us to join ourselves to Jesus as He offers Himself to the Father at Calvary.  We have the opportunity to give ourselves totally to the Father along with Jesus.

With these cards we always have the winning hand.  We can trust this.  The devil’s hand is always a loser.  The problem is; the devil is a liar, he’s the master of lies, he’s very good at it. He knows us well and he bluffs and we sometimes believe him.  We believe his lies and we fold.  We put down our winning hand without even showing it (or trying it).

He might tempt us to believe that we are worthless and it’s no use trying.  It’s a lie!

He might tempt us to believe it’s useless to continue going to confession, when we confess the same sins over and over.  It’s a lie!

He might tempt us to believe God has forgotten us and that we are on our own.  It’s a lie!

He might tempt us to believe that as long as we’re nice it doesn’t matter what we do, everyone goes to heaven anyway.   It’s a lie!

He might tempt us to believe that because we don’t “feel” anything happening at Mass that we should stop coming, or go elsewhere, God understands.  It’s a lie!

St. Camillus was canonized in the 18^th c. he went from being an aggressive fighter and gambler to singing the praises of God in Heaven forever, loving God with all his heart, soul, and mind.  He stopped believing the lies realizing what a treasure he held within his hands, Jesus, the Church, the Communion of Saints, the Mass, and most especially the Eucharist.  He was loved with an extraordinary and exuberant love, and with time he learned to trust that Divine love.  And with time and patience he grew to love our Lord with all his heart, his soul, and his mind.

We too are loved with an extraordinary and exuberant love and the same awaits each of us and that should fill us with great hope.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Not long ago I had the privilege of attending Mass at a Franciscan Monastery, the Saint Clare Monastery.  This monastery had a beautiful and relatively new chapel, and across from my pew was a stained glass window with the words, “He who is like God.”  It was a window with the image of St. Michael the Archangel and Michael means one who is like God.  But before seeing the Archangel all I saw were the words and I took it as a question, “Who is like God?”  Answer:  you and I are like God and we find this answer in the Bible.  In Genesis (1:27) it’s written, “So God created man in his image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.”  You and I are made in the image of God.

In today’s Gospel we hear about images, the first one being the image of Caesar on the Roman coin.  The Pharisees and the Herodians are trying to be clever.  They want to trap Jesus by trying to corner him into a catch-22.  These two groups the Pharisees and the Herodians are neither friends nor allies of each other. They despise each other.  The Pharisees are religious patriots, bitterly opposed to Roman rule, whereas the Herodians are content to work together with the Roman Gentile powers.  This present uneasy alliance is made solely for the purpose of bringing down the Messiah. They want to entrap him and get him out of the way.  They think their question, “Is it lawful to pay the census tax to Caesar or not?”   has only a “yes” or “no” answer.  If Jesus answers, “yes, pay the tax” the zealous Jews would run from him and they had come to regard him as the Messiah.  Jesus would no longer have a following.    If Jesus answers, “no, don’t pay the tax” the Jewish priests of the temple could have the Roman soldiers arrest him for trying to overthrow the government.  With either response the Pharisees and Herodians think they can discredit Jesus and be rid of him.  Jesus would cease to have any influence.

However, Jesus is wise to them and doesn’t answer their question with a simple “yes” or “no.”  He confounds them and frustrates them when he holds up the coin and asks, “Whose image is this and whose inscription?” They have to answer that Caesar’s image is on the coin.  Jesus then says something that has been quoted over a million times throughout the centuries, “Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God.”  Paying taxes, giving back to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, brings us roads, a school system, police and fire departments, a society of law and order and everything a good government should provide.  As Christians we have a duty to be good citizens and to fight for and promote a good government based on our faith.  We can’t be silent about our faith.  Our faith needs to influence every one of our decisions.

The second part of the quote is a little more difficult, Jesus was looking at the crowd, made up of men and women, when he said, “Repay to God what belongs to God.”  The coin has the image of Caesar so giving it back to Caesar is easy, but where do we find the image of God?  And this brings us back to the stained glass window I saw in the St. Clare Monastery with its question, “Who is like God?”  We are like God.  We’re made in His image and like the coin that goes back to Caesar; we’re to go back to God because we’re made for God. Jesus looks into the faces of the crowd standing before Him.  And its as if He’s saying to them, “ You are mine, I created you in my image and likeness, come to me, come to me all you who labor and are burdened, I will give you rest.”   We go back to God.   We give ourselves to Him, by spending our life getting to know Him, by loving Him, and by serving Him.  And at the end of our life we hope to finally join Him in Heaven.

Here on earth there are two dimensions of going to God.  First, there is the worship of God where we strive to give ourselves to Him totally with our whole heart, soul, and mind. At the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist at the offertory the priest says, “Pray, my brothers and sisters, that my sacrifice and yours may be acceptable to God, the almighty Father.”  The priest says it this way to remind us that the he stands in the person of Christ.  When the priest says “my sacrifice” he is saying it as Christ.  Everyone in the assembly also participates in that sacrifice since we are all part of the mystical body of Christ due to our Baptism.  So we bring our gifts our material and spiritual gifts.  We bring what we have and what we are, and we acknowledge that it all comes from God and it all belongs to God.  So we bring him our lives, our sorrows, our joys, our sufferings, everything we are and offer them in union with the sacrifice of Christ. We give ourselves to Him totally.

The second dimension of going to God is the giving of ourselves to God through the service to others.  A sacrifice of self for others.   Because others are also made in the image of God and we serve God by serving them.  All of us are expected to give ourselves to our neighbor, even the one who seems unlovable.  Maybe, all we can do is pray for them but whatever we do for our neighbor, good or bad, we are giving to God.

As images of God we have the opportunity to build God’s kingdom, because we can bring God’s kingdom into all the places we enter; the Church, the home, the workplace, the school, and even the voting booth.  Building God’s kingdom, giving ourselves to God, can’t be kept within the privacy our home, it has to be everywhere. Don’t make faith a private matter.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

From a sermon of St. Bernard of Clairvaux

We should meditate on the mysteries of salvation

The child to be born of you will be called holy, the Son of God, the fountain of wisdom, the Word of the Father on high. Through you, blessed Virgin, this Word will become flesh, so that even though, as he says: I am in the Father and the Father is in me, it is still true for him to say: “I came forth from God and am here.”

In the beginning was the Word. The spring was gushing forth, yet still within himself. Indeed, the Word was with God, truly dwelling in inaccessible light. And the Lord said from the beginning: I think thoughts of peace and not of affliction. Yet your thought was locked within you, and whatever you thought, we did not know; for who knew the mind of the Lord, or who was his counselor?

And so the idea of peace came down to do the work of peace: The Word was made flesh and even now dwells among us. It is by faith that he dwells in our hearts, in our memory, our intellect and penetrates even into our imagination. What concept could man have of God if he did not first fashion an image of him in his heart? By nature incomprehensible and inaccessible, he was invisible and unthinkable, but now he wished to be understood, to be seen and thought of.

But how, you ask, was this done? He lay in a manger and rested on a virgin’s breast, preached on a mountain, and spent the night in prayer. He hung on a cross, grew pale in death, and roamed free among the dead and ruled over those in hell. He rose again on the third day, and showed the apostles the wounds of the nails, the signs of victory; and finally in their presence he ascended to the sanctuary of heaven.

How can we not contemplate this story in truth, piety and holiness? Whatever of all this I consider, it is God I am considering; in all this he is my God. I have said it is wise to meditate on these truths, and I have thought it right to recall the abundant sweetness, given by the fruits of this priestly root; and Mary, drawing abundantly from heaven, has caused this sweetness to overflow for us.

Making wine is a long and arduous process.  Long before a bottle of wine ever gets opened, many seasons have passed and hundreds of steps have taken place.  The land has to be bought, the soil has to be made right, plowed and prepared before the seeds/vines can be planted.  We hear a little about the process in the first reading from Isaiah and again in the gospel.  The wine press has to be hewn, and a watchtower has to be built.  This doesn’t even speak of the need for proper weather conditions, the laborious work of the harvest, and the pressing of the grapes and seemingly never-ending wait during the fermentation process.   It takes years to achieve something truly amazing when it comes to wine.  The same can be said of the Christian, it can take years to achieve something truly amazing.

The soil of our hearts has to be right for the seed of God’s Word to take root and grow.  It’s only through our connectedness to God that we can withstand the difficulties of the seasons.  Sometimes we suffer.  Sometimes our prayer life is very dry.  Sometimes we are persecuted like Christ was by others.  We, like the grapes, undergo a great deal of duress but, with time, those are the grapes that produce the best juice and have the sweetest taste.  Through all these ups and downs and through all of these seasons, if we remain connected to Him who is true and if we remain connected to that which is “honorable, just, pure, lovely, and gracious” as we hear from St. Paul, then we will know peace and we will, in time, bear great fruit.  As St. Paul wrote it’s in “Making our requests known to God,” that we come to trust in His plan, His timing, and ultimately, His will for our lives.

In 1901 Yvonne Beauvais was born. She was French and she would eventually become Mother Yvonne Aimee of Jesus, at the Monastery of Malestroit in Brittany.   And as St. Paul wrote, she made her requests known to God, and with time she came to trust our Lord’s plan, and His timing, and His will.  Very early on in her life Yvonne entrusted herself to Our Lord.  Saying, “Jesus, I give myself to you completely, make me a saint, a great saint, a very great saint.”  Not shy in asking, she made her request known.  And our Lord did make her a saint, but that didn’t mean she didn’t suffer or experience ups and downs, and seasons of dryness.

When she was a young sister, she was attacked and tortured by three men she knew well.  It was a crime against her and what the Church represented.  She forgave.  During World War II she struggled to keep her sisters safe.  But she also helped the French resistance by hiding French soldiers within her monastery.  She made them dress like nuns.  If a German inspector were to look into her chapel he would see many sisters at prayer, never knowing that hiding beneath the bulky habits and heavy veils, half of those praying were men.  Again she forgave.

Mother Yvonne had a way with troubled souls, she was able to calm the most distressed of people.  She communicated joy and hope to those who despaired.  Early on in her life as a sister, Yvonne Aimee received the inspiration of a small prayer, “O Jesus, King of Love, I trust in your merciful goodness.”  She found it very helpful for those who suffered, to remind them that they are loved and not forgotten.   It became a popular prayer within France.  She had cards and medals made with the prayer on it.  Even Pope St. John XXIII gave them away.  She had a goal:  to draw souls to trust in the Heart of the King, to hope in His merciful goodness, and to abandon to Him all their worries, their fears, their cares and even their sins.

It can take years to achieve something truly amazing when it comes to wine.  The same can be said of the Christian, it can take years to achieve something truly amazing.  Mother Yvonne died in 1951 at the age of 49.  Now her full religious name was Mother Yvonne Aimee of Jesus.    As Christians each one of us can add that to our name – of Jesus.  It means He is our cornerstone.  And so we make our requests known to Jesus, we give to Him all our worries, we give to Him all our fears, we give to Him all our cares, and we give to Him all of our sins.

And in return, maybe even after many seasons, he makes us his saints, his very great saints, which means he gives us His Heaven.  “O Jesus, King of Love, I trust in your Mercy.”

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In our gospel we hear of a man who had a change of heart, he changes his mind, he had a conversion.  St. Augustine is my go to Saint when talking about a conversion of heart.  St. Augustine was born in Africa in the year 354. His young adulthood was a stormy period and it included fathering a child out of wedlock with the family’s maid.  In his twenties, Augustine moved to Milan, Italy, where he became a professor of rhetoric.  His personal life, however, continued to be stormy and wayward.  While in Milan, two things happened to him.  First, he became increasingly unhappy with his personal life and second, he became attracted to Christianity.  It was in this frame of mind that he sat down one day and began to think about his life.  And this made him cry, he wasn’t happy with the direction of his life, he began to cry out to God saying, “And you Lord! How long will you be angry with me?  Forever? Why not at this very hour put an end to my evil life?”

Augustine said later:  “I was crying out like this when, suddenly I heard the voice of a child say, “Take and read, Take and read!!”  “I stood up” he said, “because it seemed like a command from God for me to read the Bible.  I got a Bible and opened it up.”  “The first words my eyes fell upon were from the letter of Paul to the Romans.  He read: “Throw off the works of darkness and put on the armor of light: let us conduct ourselves properly as in the day, not in orgies, and drunkenness… not in rivalry and jealousy.  But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the desires of the flesh.”

When Augustine read this, he stopped.  There was no need to go on. He says:  “My heart was suddenly flooded with a light that erased all my doubts.  And my soul was filled with a deep peace.”  That episode triggered Augustine’s’ conversion to Christianity.

This change of heart that Augustine experienced is the same kind of change of heart that Jesus talks about in today’s Gospel.  The young man at first says no to his father but he later repents saying yes instead to the father’s will. It’s also the same kind of change of heart that Ezekiel talks about in today’s first reading.  This might make us ask ourselves a question:  What causes a person to undergo a change of heart?  What causes a person to undergo a conversion?

A political activist once outlined the steps for bringing about a political revolution in a country.  He said the first step was to create a psychology of discontent among the people of the country.  Unless people are discontented with their existing political situation, they will never seek to change it.  The same is true of us.  Unless we are discontented with our life, we will never seek to change it.

The case of St. Augustine illustrates this.  He was so discontented with his personal life that he sat down and cried.  And so the first step in the conversion process is dissatisfaction with one’s personal life or some aspect of it.   What has God’s grace brought to light in our life that causes dissatisfaction and a want of change for the better?   The second step is called the trigger step.  It’s some episode that lights a fire under us, or triggers us to do something about our personal life.  It’s a grace that we respond to.  In Augustine’s case this was the experience of opening the Bible and reading Paul’s letter to the Roman’s.    And then finally the third step in the conversion process is making the all-important first move in the direction of a new life.  It’s doing something practical and concrete about changing our present life, and at the same time always supported by God’s grace.

Again, we see this in the life of St. Augustine.  After reading Paul’s words to the Romans about throwing off the works of darkness, he took an immediate and concrete step toward changing his life.  He became a catechumen, he studied the Catholic faith.  And so the conversion process involves three steps.  First, involves being discontented with our personal life.  Second involves having something trigger us to do something to change our life, a grace of some sort.  Third, involves taking a concrete first step in the direction of a new life.

So what about us?  How content are we with our present life?  Is there a “No” to God’s will somewhere in my life that needs to become a “Yes?”  Am I dissatisfied with my present relationship with God?  Do I want a closer relationship with Jesus?  Do I want to be more loving toward others?  If the answer to these questions is yes, then today’s Scripture readings could be that trigger or that spark of grace that prompts you to do something.

And if it is, what first step might we take to do something about these things?  Maybe that step is simply to present ourselves more frequently at the Sacrament of Reconciliation.  Maybe it’s to begin tonight to spend a few more minutes in prayer before going to bed.  Maybe it’s to begin reading more scripture/spiritual books.  Maybe it’s a resolution to come to Mass every Sunday.  Maybe it’s to become more generous and patient with the people in my life.

God has a plan for each of us, a plan for our good.  And sometimes that plan is only made clear after a conversion of heart.  Let us continually strive to be open to God’s grace of changing our “no” to his will, no matter how small into a “yes.”

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

I begin with a very short and simple prayer from the 16^th century.  “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus be to me a Jesus.”  “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus be to me a Jesus.”  In other words, be my Savior, Jesus.  Be my savior.  This 8 word prayer was the favorite prayer of St. Ralph Sherwin.

St. Ralph was an Oxford University student and scholar, very smart and talented.  Ralph impressed everyone with his intellect, even the Queen (Queen Elizabeth I).  He had a bright and promising future within the English Government or maybe even within the Church of England.  But all of that changed a year after graduation.  He had a profound conversion experience, studying history, and reading the writings of the early Christians he discovered the beauty of the Catholic faith.  He wanted it for himself and so he became a Catholic and as a Catholic he felt drawn to the priesthood.  So in secret he journeyed to France where he could study to be a priest.  You just couldn’t do that in England at that time.  All the Catholic seminaries had been suppressed and destroyed.

Once he was ordained Ralph made his way back to England and he did this in secret.  He came ashore at night disguised as a workman.  Once in England he made his rounds ministering to those who still practiced the Catholic faith.  But after a year of many near misses he was caught and charged with treason.  He was sent to the tower of London.   In prison he was tortured on the rack.  And after one bout on the stretching device he was tossed outside into the snow.  There Queen Elizabeth I was waiting for him.  She admired his talent and intelligence.  So she made a deal with him, if he would recant his Catholic faith she’d make him a Bishop in the Church of England.  He’d have money, power, honor, and comfort.  He refused; that was his last chance.  At his trial he vigorously denied any attempt to raise a rebellion against the Queen.  He’s quoted as saying, “The plain reason of our standing here is religion, not treason!”  He was found guilty and sentenced to be hung and drawn and quartered.   The next day was set for his execution.

As he made his way to the gallows he kissed the bloodied hands of his executioner, forgiving him.  Right before dying the last words out of St. Ralph’s mouth was his favorite prayer.    “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus be to me a Jesus!”  These too are our words; they should be the words of everyone.

Recently Bishop Bradley gave us some sobering statistics.  He told us that 58% of Michigan’s residents have no religious affiliation.  They may go to church occasionally maybe at Christmas or Easter, but they don’t have a strong tie with any one religious faith.

From the Gospel we know that the harvest is abundant but that the laborers are few.  And in our second reading St. Paul in his letter to the Philippians speaks of this saying, “I long to depart this life to be with Christ for that is far better.  Yet that I remain in the flesh is more necessary for your benefit.”  St. Paul remained in the flesh to make the Gospel known, to make Jesus known and loved.  St. Ralph Sherwin remained in the flesh, for a time, for the benefit of others to make the Gospel known, to make Jesus known and loved.  We too remain in the flesh, we remain in the flesh for the benefit of others, to make Jesus known and loved.

“For it was to strengthen our hearts that He came to suffer and die, that he came to be spit upon and crowned with thorns, that he came to be accused of shameful things, that he came to be fastened to the wood of the cross.  All these things he did for us, and we did nothing.  He did them not for himself, but for us.”  “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus be to me a Jesus.”  Be my Savior Jesus!

I have a challenge for you this week, reach out to someone to make Our Lord better known and loved.  Invite them to Mass; maybe even teach them St. Ralph’s prayer.  Nothing pleases our Lord more than when this prayer is said with confidence and from the depths of the heart.  Jesus is our Savior; we can’t keep quiet about that.  Ask the Holy Spirit to know the right moment when you should say something to someone.

The Harvest is great but the laborers are few.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

From a discourse by Saint Andrew of Crete

The cross is Christ’s glory and triumph

We are celebrating the feast of the cross which drove away darkness and brought in the light. As we keep this feast, we are lifted up with the crucified Christ, leaving behind us earth and sin so that we may gain the things above. So great and outstanding a possession is the cross that he who wins it has won a treasure. Rightly could I call this treasure the fairest of all fair things and the costliest, in fact as well as in name, for on it and through it and for its sake the riches of salvation that had been lost were restored to us.

Had there been no cross, Christ could not have been crucified. Had there been no cross, life itself could not have been nailed to the tree. And if life had not been nailed to it, there would be no streams of immortality pouring from Christ’s side, blood and water for the world’s cleansing. The legal bond of our sin would not be cancelled, we should not have attained our freedom, we should not have enjoyed the fruit of the tree of life and the gates of paradise would not stand open. Had there been no cross, death would not have been trodden underfoot, nor hell despoiled.

Therefore, the cross is something wonderfully great and honorable. It is great because through the cross the many noble acts of Christ found their consummation – very many indeed, for both his miracles and his sufferings were fully rewarded with victory. The cross is honorable because it is both the sign of God’s suffering and the trophy of his victory. It stands for his suffering because on it he freely suffered unto death. But it is also his trophy because it was the means by which the devil was wounded and death conquered; the barred gates of hell were smashed, and the cross became the one common salvation of the whole world.

The cross is called Christ’s glory; it is saluted as his triumph. We recognize it as the cup he longed to drink and the climax of the sufferings he endured for our sake. As to the cross being Christ’s glory, listen to his words: Now is the Son of Man glorified, and in him God is glorified, and God will glorify him at once. And again: Father, glorify me with the glory I had with you before the world came to be. And once more: “Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven: “I have glorified it and will glorify it again.” Here he speaks of the glory that would accrue to him through the cross. And if you would understand that the cross is Christ’s triumph, hear what he himself also said: When I am lifted up, then I will draw all men to myself. Now you can see that the cross is Christ’s glory and triumph.

The cross is Christ’s glory and triumph

We are celebrating the feast of the cross which drove away darkness and brought in the light. As we keep this feast, we are lifted up with the crucified Christ, leaving behind us earth and sin so that we may gain the things above. So great and outstanding a possession is the cross that he who wins it has won a treasure. Rightly could I call this treasure the fairest of all fair things and the costliest, in fact as well as in name, for on it and through it and for its sake the riches of salvation that had been lost were restored to us.

Had there been no cross, Christ could not have been crucified. Had there been no cross, life itself could not have been nailed to the tree. And if life had not been nailed to it, there would be no streams of immortality pouring from Christ’s side, blood and water for the world’s cleansing. The legal bond of our sin would not be cancelled, we should not have attained our freedom, we should not have enjoyed the fruit of the tree of life and the gates of paradise would not stand open. Had there been no cross, death would not have been trodden underfoot, nor hell despoiled.

Therefore, the cross is something wonderfully great and honorable. It is great because through the cross the many noble acts of Christ found their consummation – very many indeed, for both his miracles and his sufferings were fully rewarded with victory. The cross is honorable because it is both the sign of God’s suffering and the trophy of his victory. It stands for his suffering because on it he freely suffered unto death. But it is also his trophy because it was the means by which the devil was wounded and death conquered; the barred gates of hell were smashed, and the cross became the one common salvation of the whole world.

The cross is called Christ’s glory; it is saluted as his triumph. We recognize it as the cup he longed to drink and the climax of the sufferings he endured for our sake. As to the cross being Christ’s glory, listen to his words: Now is the Son of Man glorified, and in him God is glorified, and God will glorify him at once. And again: Father, glorify me with the glory I had with you before the world came to be. And once more: “Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven: “I have glorified it and will glorify it again.” Here he speaks of the glory that would accrue to him through the cross. And if you would understand that the cross is Christ’s triumph, hear what he himself also said: When I am lifted up, then I will draw all men to myself. Now you can see that the cross is Christ’s glory and triumph.

The cross is Christ’s glory and triumph

We are celebrating the feast of the cross which drove away darkness and brought in the light. As we keep this feast, we are lifted up with the crucified Christ, leaving behind us earth and sin so that we may gain the things above. So great and outstanding a possession is the cross that he who wins it has won a treasure. Rightly could I call this treasure the fairest of all fair things and the costliest, in fact as well as in name, for on it and through it and for its sake the riches of salvation that had been lost were restored to us.

Had there been no cross, Christ could not have been crucified. Had there been no cross, life itself could not have been nailed to the tree. And if life had not been nailed to it, there would be no streams of immortality pouring from Christ’s side, blood and water for the world’s cleansing. The legal bond of our sin would not be cancelled, we should not have attained our freedom, we should not have enjoyed the fruit of the tree of life and the gates of paradise would not stand open. Had there been no cross, death would not have been trodden underfoot, nor hell despoiled.

Therefore, the cross is something wonderfully great and honorable. It is great because through the cross the many noble acts of Christ found their consummation – very many indeed, for both his miracles and his sufferings were fully rewarded with victory. The cross is honorable because it is both the sign of God’s suffering and the trophy of his victory. It stands for his suffering because on it he freely suffered unto death. But it is also his trophy because it was the means by which the devil was wounded and death conquered; the barred gates of hell were smashed, and the cross became the one common salvation of the whole world.

The cross is called Christ’s glory; it is saluted as his triumph. We recognize it as the cup he longed to drink and the climax of the sufferings he endured for our sake. As to the cross being Christ’s glory, listen to his words: Now is the Son of Man glorified, and in him God is glorified, and God will glorify him at once. And again: Father, glorify me with the glory I had with you before the world came to be. And once more: “Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven: “I have glorified it and will glorify it again.” Here he speaks of the glory that would accrue to him through the cross. And if you would understand that the cross is Christ’s triumph, hear what he himself also said: When I am lifted up, then I will draw all men to myself. Now you can see that the cross is Christ’s glory and triumph.

Dear Friends,

Because Jesus Christ is the way and the truth and the life that makes all of us, all Christians, truth tellers we live in the truth and we speak the truth.  And because sin is an untruthful behavior we correct it in a spirit of brotherly love, as hard as that sometimes is, pointing out to our brother or sister his or her sins or misdeeds.  Of course this is always done discreetly and in the context of love; but if we can’t do it in love then we keep quiet.

Now thankfully, most of us have an example of loving correction from our own families. When I was growing up, my mom and dad would naturally offer me correction as needed, and sometimes I would complain. Mom or Dad’s response? “Better you hear it from me than someone who doesn’t love you.” That should describe our motivations for correcting someone—because we love them, because we love them we want to show them a weakness before someone can exploit it. Someone who doesn’t love them. Correction in charity is an act of protection, and of shelter. It is a bandage on a wound that keeps infection from seeping in. If that is not why we are correcting someone, then we have no place in offering correction.

There is a story about St. Francis and how he once corrected a whole town’s behavior.  Francis always worked for peace and he once negotiated a treaty between the people of Gubbio, a town about thirty miles north of Assisi, and a wolf that terrorized them.  According to the story, the townspeople of Gubbio were gripped by fear of a huge wolf that had devoured many animals and people.  This wolf was so terrifying that they only ventured outside the city walls if they were armed and protected with shields and helmets, as if going off to war.  But their weaponry was useless:  Even with weapons they were unable to escape the sharp teeth and raging hunger of the wolf, a smart wolf.

The people of Gubbio warned Francis that the wolf would kill him if he went out unarmed to meet it.  But Francis went out the city gates armed only with the Sign of the Cross.  People watched perched on the city walls as the wolf rushed toward Francis, jaws gaping, drool flying, exposing all his teeth.  But the wolf stopped short as Francis made the sign of the cross.  On Francis’ command the wolf closed its jaws, bowed, and lay at his feet.  Then Francis began to lecture the wolf by saying, “Brother Wolf, you have done great harm in this region, and you have committed horrible crimes by destroying God’s creatures without any mercy.  You deserve to be put to death just like the worst robber and murderer.  Everyone is right in crying out against you and complaining, and this whole town is your enemy.  But, Brother Wolf, I want to make peace between you and them, so that they’ll not be harmed by you anymore, and after they have forgiven you all your past crimes, neither man nor dog will pursue you anymore.”

A deal was on the table, and Francis sweetened it by seeing through the wolf’s terrifying and intimidating appearance to the suffering that lay beneath it.  “I promise you,” he said that I will have the people of this town give you food every day as long as you live, so that you’ll never again suffer from hunger, for I know that whatever evil you have been doing was done because of the urge of hunger.   Francis then added, “But, Brother Wolf, since I’m obtaining such a favor for you, I want you to promise me that you will never hurt any animal or man, as long as you live.  Will you promise me that?”

Francis took steps to alleviate the animal’s pain from hunger.  In return, the wolf would avoid acts of violence.  The wolf responded by lifting its paw to Francis in supplication.  After the wolf’s change of heart, it meekly follows the saint inside the city gates.  There Francis preached a sermon in which he calls on the people of Gubbio to repent:  “Dear people, come back to the Lord, and do fitting penance, and God will free you from the wolf in this world and from the devouring fire of hell in the next world.”  It may seem strange to us that Francis called on the people of Gubbio to repent; after all they had been the victims of terror.  But the citizens of Gubbio had sinned; they sinned by failing to love their enemy.  They knew that the wolf was ferocious because of its hunger.  And yet, to their own detriment, they did nothing to ease the wolf’s hunger.  Instead, they resorted to combat, which lead only to more deaths.

The wolf lived out its days going door to door in Gubbio for its food.  “He hurt no one and no one hurt him.”  According to one source, “The people fed the wolf courteously.  And it’s a striking fact that not even a single dog ever barked at this wolf.”  When the wolf died of old age, the people were saddened; they had grown to love their former enemy.

This story of St. Francis and the wolf of Gubbio is more than just an amusing anecdote or the subject of postcards sold in Assisi.  It’s an allegory we can use to look at our own lives.  We can ask ourselves a few questions:  Are there any wolves in our own lives?   Are we a wolf in someone’s life?  Is there anyone we’re at war with who’s in need of forgiveness, is there anyone in need of gentle correction, is there anyone in need of love?

It is this bond of love which St. Paul reminds us, is the source of all our obligations to other people. Paul tells the Romans to “owe nothing to one another except to love one another; for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law” (Rom. 13:8). When Jesus talks about correction, He does not speak of correcting someone we have no bond with—He says “if your brother sins against you” (Mt. 18:15). If we go about correcting someone mindful of the bond of love, with the mindset that that person is our brother (or sister), that can go a long way towards purifying our intentions. But if our intentions are not loving, then the result of the correction is even worse—the person will still be in sin, but now we will have hurt our own souls as well by acting out of something besides love.

As with any work of mercy—spiritual or corporeal—success will always be mixed. Jesus Himself says in today’s Gospel that there will be times when even the whole Church giving correction will not succeed. But if we can act with love from start to finish, and keep that love alive even when all correction fails, then there is still hope for the future. If the person corrected experiences our love throughout the experience, and knows that we still love them in the end, they might want to come around eventually. If the bonds of love still exist, then there can still be a relationship, there can still be some measure of personal influence on the other. And in the end, we can at least say to God “I have loved and cared about all of Your people, even when that care was not appreciated.”

“You shall love your neighbor as yourself.  Love does no evil to the neighbor.”

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

We read today’s gospel in continuity with last week’s gospel.  Last week we heard that Jesus will build his Church on the rock foundation of Peter’s confession; Peter said to Jesus, “You are the Christ the Son of the living God.”  And this Church founded by Christ will be a militant Church, invading the sinful world with the power of God’s grace; the gates of Hell will not prevail.  And today Jesus lays out the cost of doing this; He must go to Jerusalem, suffer, be killed, but then be raised on the third day.  He will go to Jerusalem as a bearer of Divine Love; He goes to the capital with a hard and true message.

But as we heard Peter won’t have any of this; he treats Jesus like a little kid in need of instruction.  You know you’re in a bad place spiritually when you begin to tell Jesus what to do.  In a world injured by Original Sin, Divine Love is met with resistance.  The world will try to block it.  But our Lord is always willing to lay down his life in the divine struggle and if we are to be a bearer of that same love then we too will suffer.  Christian life cannot be lived without the Cross; Christian life cannot be lived without suffering love.

St. Jane de Chantal founder of the Visitation Order of Sisters lived in 17^th century France.  Before founding her order, however, she was a wife and mother.  And in her life like all the saints she lived with suffering love.  Jane married a man named Baron Christopher de Chantal.  He was a soldier and courtier in the service King Henry IV.  And even though Jane and Christopher came to love each other dearly, the marriage began with a few problems.  From the outside looking in everything looked fine.  They were rich, they had lots of land and a castle but Christopher had some rough edges and he was a spender with large debts and he was a bit of a ladies man.  Soon after they were married, Christopher conceived a child with his mistress.

Now Jane loved her husband and her response to this affair can tell us a lot about suffering love.  She could have given Christopher the cold shoulder, she could have taken a lover of her own, she had no lack of suitors, she was very beautiful.  She could have given voice to a great anger, venting to everyone she knew.  But she chose a different path, she chose the way of the cross and strengthened by her prayer life and daily Mass, she chose to forgive.  She leaned into that Cross and forgave her husband, even going one step further and taking the illegitimate daughter into their home raising the little girl with her own children.  Instead of making life miserable for her husband, Jane won his heart.  Her forgiveness and kindness, in fact, laid the foundation for a home so happy that Christopher took an early retirement from active service.  He wanted to be with Jane.  He’s recorded as saying worldly splendors paled beside the virtues of his beloved wife.

Soon after retiring Christopher went hunting with a neighbor.  And this neighbor accidently shot Christopher.  It was nine agonizing days before he died.  Now Christopher quickly forgave the neighbor and asked that Jane do the same.  But Jane had a hard time in forgiving this neighbor, she had finally gotten her husband back, their marriage was back on track.  And she just couldn’t do it.  It took her four years before she was able to forgive.  Her spiritual director told her not to seek out this neighbor but if you happen to see him by chance, “I want your heart to be gentle, gracious, and compassionate, even though I know without any doubt that your heart will be distressed, and that your blood will boil.”    After four years Jane was able to forgive the neighbor.  Jane leaned into the Cross and forgave with gentleness, graciousness, and compassion even going so far to be the Godmother of this neighbor’s newborn baby.

Christian life cannot be lived without the Cross; Christian life cannot be lived without suffering love.  Everyone reading this is meant to be a bearer of Divine Love into the world.  That is our mission, to be bearers of Divine Love.  And this always involves suffering because it involves self-denial and self-denial hurts.  It would have been so much easier for Jane to give into anger, revenge, and self-pity.   But instead she leaned into her Crosses and learned charity, forgiveness, magnanimity, gentleness, graciousness, compassion, and much more.  When the cross comes our way we can ask our Lord, “What are you teaching me Lord?  What virtue must I grow in?  Where do I need healing?  What am I to learn from this cross?”  “Is it patience, forgiveness, mercy, fortitude, faith, trust, or is it love?”  Sometimes a cross is such a terrible burden, we ask ourselves, “How can God allow this?”  In those moments pray for help and then reach out for help reach out to a Simon or a Veronica.  Our Lord had help on the Way of the Cross.  Simon of Cyrene carried his cross for a time and Veronica wiped his brow offering some comfort.  Those around us may not even be aware of how much we are hurting and in need of help.  Ask for help, we don’t have to do this alone.  And we too need to be aware of those around us.  Is there someone close by who needs me to be a Simon or a Veronica?

The Cross does not last forever; the Cross is our bridge to Heaven.  At the end of our days when we have laid down our cross our Heavenly Father will meet us and call out to us in the words of the Song of Songs:

“Come then, my love,

My lovely one, come.

For see, winter is past,

The rains are over and gone. 

The flowers appear on the earth,

The season of glad songs has come…

Come then, my love,

My lovely one, come.

Show me your face,

Let me hear your voice;

For your voice is sweet and your face is beautiful (Song of Songs 2:10-4)

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley