Category: Pastor’s Corner

Dear Friends,

St. Francis de Sales, was born in 1567.  His feast day was this past Friday the 24th.  Very early on in life Francis de Sales vowed to become a priest.  But this was very much against what his parents wanted for him.  Francis was tall, handsome, intelligent and wise.  So his parents had great ambitions for him.  They wanted him to pursue a political or military career or maybe even become a lawyer.  So at the age of 14 they sent him to the university to study law.  Francis still hoped to become a priest somehow, but he followed his parent’s wishes and studied law.  He did well with his studies, but his spiritual life was in a shambles.  He was always filled with worry and anxiety.  He worried about the state of his soul; he was convinced that he was going to hell.  He did not trust in God’s love or mercy.  He lived in darkness.

So every day, for two years, to rid himself of this darkness, he’d visit various churches to pray.  One day he visited the Church of Saint-Etienne-des-Gres and on the wall he saw a plaque with the Memorare inscribed on it.  Francis knelt before the altar of Our Lady of Good Deliverance and recited the prayer.  It had an immediate calming effect.  The darkness was gone, his depression and anxiety turned in to a state of grace-filled optimism.  He consecrated himself to the BVM and took a vow of chastity in appreciation for his deliverance.  This experience taught him to deal tenderly with all the spiritual difficulties and temptations of those he would someday help.

Francis became a lawyer at the age of 24.  He hated it. But two years later with the consent of his Dad he was finally able to become a priest.  And for his first assignment he was sent to Geneva.  This was a difficult assignment because most Genevans had left the Church to become Calvinists.  At most there were probably only twenty Catholics left in his parish.  And he found that his parish was not a very safe place.  The Calvinists were very hostile to Catholics especially priests.  He couldn’t even live in his own parish.  He had to live outside the parish boundaries and walk in everyday to care for his flock.  Sometimes he was attacked by would be assassins and once he was even chased by wolves causing him to spend the night in a tree.  But through all of this adversity and there was a lot, he trusted God. He had learned to trust.  He didn’t let that old worry and anxiety get the best of him like it had when he was younger.  The Lord’s light kept the darkness away.  With time, prayer, and perseverance Francis was able to bring many of the Calvinists back to the faith, 72,000 returned to the faith.  “Whoever preaches with love is preaching effectively and nothing is so strong as gentleness” he would say.

St. Francis de Sales was a man of prayer, a man of the scriptures, and he learned to trust God.  The spiritual life at its most basic is all about growing in trust.

Today we heard twice of the lands of Zebulun and Naphtali, first in the reading from Isaiah and then again in the Gospel.  These were the lands occupied by the tribes of Zebulun and Naphtali, named for two of Jacob’s sons, two of the twelve tribes.  Centuries before, these two lands had been overrun by Assyrian forces.  All the rich and educated Israelites were taken away and forced to be servants to the rich and powerful Assyrians.  The poorer Israelites were left behind to farm the land and to give the produce to the Assyrians.  They suffered greatly.  They were oppressed and they lived in darkness.  But the prophet Isaiah promised them that a great light would dispel this darkness and gloom.  And in the Gospel we heard that Jesus has entered the historic lands of Zebulun and Naphtali.  The light has come to the land of darkness and gloom.

Now sometimes we live in the land of Zebulun and Naphtali.  Sometimes we live in a place of darkness, hardship, anxiety, and oppression.  Maybe it’s a physical illness, or psychological suffering, or worry about children, or worry about a job, or getting a job.  Maybe it’s a deep injustice we’ve experienced.  Or an old grudge we just can’t seem to let go.  Maybe it’s the loss of a loved one, or fear of the unknown, profound failure of some sort, or maybe its persistent sin.  St. Francis de Sales for two years lived in darkness; he lived in his own Zebulun and Naphtali.  What is your Zebulun and Naphtali, what is your place of gloom?

That place of gloom is the very place our Lord wants to bring his light.  What might God be working in your life where you feel most vulnerable, most alone, most lost?  Where might he be leading you?  In the land of Zebulun and Naphtali a light has dawned, with God’s grace let us be open to this light and to this love and let us look for it.  Let us make an effort to meet Christ, the light of all lights, to be present to him in Scripture, to turn around to meet him in prayer, to visit him in Eucharistic adoration, to visit him in the sacrament of reconciliation, to devoutly receive him in Holy Communion.

I’ve had my moments of worry and anxiety; I’ve had my Zebuluns and Naphtalis.  I’ve had moments where I was tempted to not trust.  Many years ago a spiritual director gave me a prayer about trust.  It was written by St. Francis de Sales who, by the grace of God, learned trust at a very early age.  I’ve prayed it many times especially when I slip into worry and anxiety, and it seems so dark. When that happens I dig it out and it reminds me of God’s goodness and light.  Because after sin its worry and anxiety that are the next biggest things that turn us away from God.  It goes like this:

Do not look forward to the changes and chances of this life with fear.  Rather, look to them with full confidence that, as they arise, God to whom you belong will in his love enable you to profit by them.  He has guided you thus far in life.  Do you but hold fast to His dear hand, and He will lead you safely through all trials.  Whenever you cannot stand, He will carry you lovingly in his arms.  Do not look forward to what may happen tomorrow.  The same Eternal Father who takes care of you today will take care of you tomorrow, and every day of your life.  Either He will shield you from suffering or He will give you unfailing strength to bear it.  Be at peace then, and put aside all useless thoughts, all vain dreads and all anxious imaginations. 

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

St. John the Baptist’s favorite title for Jesus is “the Lamb of God.”   It also became one of St. John the Evangelist’s favorite titles. He uses it here in his Gospel, and then he used it again, twenty-nine times, in the Book of Revelation.  This title Lamb of God brings together three images that would have been very familiar to the Jews of those times.  By calling Jesus the “Lamb of God,” St John is telling us that those ancient images are fulfilled in Jesus.

The first image:  In the Old Covenant, God required the Jews to sacrifice a lamb twice a day to expiate the sins of the people (cf. Exodus 29:39).  So the lamb symbolized the price to be paid for sin.

The second image:  The primary holy day of the Jews was (and remains) the Passover.  In the Passover ceremony each family sacrifices and eats a lamb to recall their liberation from Egypt in the days of Moses.  On that night, God allowed the death of all the firstborn children and animals of the Egyptians, but spared those of the Hebrews.  In order to indicate which households the angel of death was to skip over (pass over), God commanded the Hebrews to kill a lamb and mark their doorposts with its blood.  Thus the Passover lamb signified God’s merciful and saving love.

The third image:  Finally, a lamb going silently and docilely to be slaughtered is one of the images used to describe the coming Messiah.  He was going to take Israel’s sins upon himself and wipe them away through his suffering obedience.  And so, by calling Jesus the “Lamb of God,” St. John reminds us that all of these Old Testament symbols had been pointing towards Jesus – the true Savior.  As the Lamb our Lord paid the price for sin.  As the Lamb our Lord is the personification of merciful and saving love.  And as the Lamb our Lord went to the cross silently and docilely.

Sometimes it is good for us to remember the basics of our faith.  God created us.  He created us to live in communion with Him; in Him alone we find perfect happiness. This is our fundamental purpose in life, communion with Him – it’s the reason that nothing else in the world satisfies our deepest desires.  Not money, because money runs out.  Not pleasure, because pleasure wears off.  Not power, because power corrupts.  Our hearts were made for more than all those things.  They were made to love and be loved with an eternal love, and that can only come from God.  But as we know, Adam and Eve walked out on God, and the human race became lost and fell under the power of the devil.  We couldn’t save ourselves, so Jesus came to rescue us.  As a true man and true God, he was able to end mankind’s rebellion against God and reestablish our communion with God. We belong to God; we belong to God because He created us.  But we also belong to God because He bought us back; he bought us back through his death on the cross.

I have a story that symbolizes how God bought us back.  It was the 1800s and a young miner who had recently struck it rich in the gold rush was on his way back East.  As he stopped in New Orleans to rest, he noticed a crowd of people gathering for some kind of event.

He approached the crowd and quickly learned they were there for a slave auction.  He heard a gavel bang on wood and a man shouted, “Sold!” just as a middle-aged black man was taken away.  Next, a beautiful young black girl was pushed onto the platform and made to walk around so everyone could see her.  The miner heard vile jokes and comments that spoke of evil intentions from those around him.  The bidding began.  Within a minute, because of her beauty, the bids surpassed what most slave owners would pay for a black girl.  Finally, one man bid a price that was beyond the reach of the other.  The girl looked down.

The auctioneer called out, “Going once! Going twice!”  Just before the final call, the miner yelled out a price that was exactly twice the previous bid, an amount that exceeded the worth of any man.  The crowd laughed.  The miner opened up the bag of gold he had brought for the trip.  The auctioneer shook his head in disbelief as he waved the girl over to him.  The girl walked down the steps of the platform until she was eye-to-eye with the miner.  She spat straight in his face and said through clenched teeth, “I hate you!”

The miner, without a word, wiped his face, paid the auctioneer, took the girl by the hand, and walked away from the still-laughing crowd.

Stretching out his hand, he said to the girl, “Here are your freedom papers.”  The girl looked at the papers, then looked at him, and looked at the papers once again.  “You just bought me…and now, you’re setting me free?”

“That’s why I bought you.  I bought you to set you free.”

The beautiful young girl fell to her knees in front of the miner, tears streaming down her face.

“You bought me to set me free!  You bought me to set me free!”  She said over and over.  The miner said nothing.  Clutching his muddy boots, the girl looked up at the miner and said, “All I want to do is to serve you, because you bought me and set me free!”  She said it again, “All I want to do is to serve you, because you bought me and set me free!” 

That’s what God did for us – we are twice his. First we are His because he created us and second we are His because He bought us back, He bought us back when we were lost to the devil and in slavery to sin and death, but instead of paying with gold, he paid with his blood – the blood of the Lamb of God.  Our Lord gave His life for us, shedding every last drop of blood for us.  Our Lord rescued us, gave us a future, gave us hope, and gave us our lives.  On Good Friday we were slaves but three days later on Easter morning we were set free.  May we always live in gratitude, never forgetting the price paid.

May we be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

St. Isaac Jogues was a French Jesuit who lived in the first half of the 17^th century.  He was a missionary priest to the Native Americans living in what is now upstate New York and Canada.  Isaac ministered mainly to the Algonquin and Huron tribes. He learned their language and their customs, enculturating Catholicism into their way of life.  His missionary work and that of all the Jesuits, however, was not well received by the Iroquois tribe, sworn enemy of both the Algonquins and Hurons. Any captured Native American Christians were quickly killed by the Iroquois.

After a number of years of missionary work Isaac was eventually captured by the Iroquois, who knew he was a priest by the way he dressed.  He was a black robe as all priests were called, because of the telltale black cassock he wore.  Isaac was not treated well, many of the Christians captured with him were quickly martyred.  Isaac on the other hand was kept for sport and torture.  He was beaten with clubs, burnt with hot irons, had all his fingernails and hair plucked out, beard included, fingers were gnawed off.  Index fingers and thumbs of both hands were removed.  The Iroquois knew that without these fingers a priest wouldn’t be able to celebrate Mass.   Isaac was a prisoner for several months; sometimes he’d be severely beaten, and then left alone to heal.  Other times he’d be confined without any harsh treatment.  He never knew what was going to happen.

Eventually the tribe that kept him prisoner met up with a Dutch trader who helped Isaac escape to New Amsterdam (New York City).  They say Isaac was the first Catholic priest to set foot on Manhattan Island.  Isaac eventually made his way back to France where he recuperated.  Once healed, however, he sought permission to return to North America.  Permission was given, the pope even gave permission for him to celebrate Mass even with the missing fingers.  So off he went, back to Canada.  He was soon captured again this time, however, he was quickly martyred.  He died in Auriesville which is about 40 miles north of Albany, New York.  Isaac Jogues is a saint because he took missionary work seriously he took seriously the words of our Lord in Matthew’s gospel.  At the end of that gospel Jesus says, “Go, therefore, and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”  Isaac Jogues gave his life in order to bring the gift of baptism to the New World.

Even as a prisoner Isaac Jogues continued to evangelize and baptize, although in secret.  So when someone was ready for baptism it was done very creatively.  During his forced marches if they crossed a river, he’d quickly baptize as they made their way through the water.  With the candidate walking next to him he’d quickly pour water over him three times, hoping no one would see.  Or if confined he’d use a cup of water that he had been given for drinking.  Or sometimes he’d have to wring water out of a rag for baptism.

Isaac knew the great gift that baptism is, to become a child of God, to be unconditionally loved by God, and to be able to call him Father, this is the greatest gift we can ever receive.  And hands down the most important day of every person’s life is the day of his or her baptism.  We are more changed by baptism than by any other experience in our life.  Baptism is not just a simple rite of passage, it’s not just a chance to get the family together and have a party.  By baptism we are grafted onto Christ.  All sin is forgiven, both original and personal.  We are enabled to participate in the very life and love of God.  Sanctifying grace is infused into our souls and we become temples of the Holy Spirit more beautiful to God than any Cathedral.

Of all that baptism confers upon us, perhaps the most remarkable thing is that it makes us “adoptive sons and daughters of God.”  The only reason why we can pray the Lord’s Prayer, addressing God on such familiar terms as “Our Father,” is because of our baptism.  Through Christ’s death and resurrection, we are made by adoption what Christ is by nature:  children of the heavenly Father.  In John’s gospel we hear Jesus say that he is ascending to “My father and your father” (John 20:17), a statement that would have been impossible for anyone to make before Jesus came along.  If we really reflect on what it means to be the beloved children of the creator of the universe, we can’t help but to be in awe.  Spend some time this week thinking about this, thinking about what it means to be the beloved child of the Creator of the universe.

At the end of today’s Gospel we hear that after John baptized Jesus, the heavens opened up, and Jesus “Saw the Spirit of God descending like a dove and coming upon him.  And a voice came from the heavens, saying, “This is my beloved son, with whom I am well pleased.”  All that Jesus would do and accomplish after this beginning of his public ministry, in particular in his death and resurrection, would make it possible for these very same words to be spoken by God the Father to us.  If we are baptized, then God truly looks at us saying, “You are my beloved child.”

Not long ago Pope Francis spoke of baptism saying that this sacrament is an act that profoundly touches our existence.  “With baptism we become immersed in that inexhaustible source of life who is Jesus; and thanks to His life and love we can live a new life, no longer at the mercy of evil, of sin, and death, but in the communion with God and with our brothers.”  The pope then asked everyone present to search for the date of their Baptism, to know the date of their birth into the life of Christ and his Church.  This is not just a date in the past, he said, but a gift that will always affect us.  “We must awaken the memory of our Baptism and all that it means!”  So many missionaries throughout the centuries were willing to die to make this gift available.

We know the date when we were born into time, we should also know the date when the eternal entered into our soul and we began our journey towards Heaven.  Do we know the date of our baptism; do we know the most important date of our life?

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In 1982 the world of journalism was stunned when it learned that, one of their own, the famous British journalist, Malcolm Muggeridge, had been received into the Catholic Church.  Muggeridge was the son of agnostic parents, and they raised him in the religion of socialistic progress, from his father he had inherited the conviction that man was capable of building paradise here on earth all by himself, and there was no need for God or for grace.  Despite a brief interest in Christianity during his university days at Cambridge by the time he graduated Muggeridge was a convicted agnostic socialist, once writing, “I’m a socialist, because I believe that with the right conditions man can be good, and only the government of collectivism can create such good conditions.”

In 1927, Muggeridge married Kitty Dobbs, she was also a convinced socialist and religious agnostic.  They were proud to establish a marriage that was free of all religious constraints, and with their non-traditional and ultra-liberal attitudes towards sexuality there were many infidelities that caused much suffering for themselves and their children.  In the 1930s Muggeridge was sent to the Soviet Union as a correspondent for the Manchester Guardian newspaper.  He was convinced that in the USSR he’d find a land free of all exploitation and injustice.  He wasn’t there long before learning the truth, and witnessing firsthand the barbarism of that governmental system.  Muggeridge left Russia no longer convinced that socialism was the answer to all humanity’s problems.

Muggeridge made his way back to Great Britain and began to consider the idea of Christianity, the Catholic Church in particular.  But it would be forty years before he and his wife would enter the Church.  There were many experiences that helped to bring this well-known agnostic home to the Church but the deciding factor was his meeting with Mother Teresa (M.T.).  In M.T. he saw a woman whose life had been completely transformed by Jesus Christ, and it was impossible for Muggeridge not to be attracted to her witness of faith, hope, and love.  M.T. in all of her simplicity radiated Jesus to such a degree that Muggeridge felt compelled to embrace the Christian faith.  During the last 8 years of his life he became a devout Catholic, he was one of the Church’s staunchest defenders.  He died in 1990 at the age of 87.

God used Mother Teresa to bring Malcolm Muggeridge home to the Catholic Church.  On this feast of the Epiphany we are reminded of our own call to discipleship and evangelization, which M.T. lived and did so well.  The same missionary fire that burned in her heart should burn in ours as well.  Because of our baptism we are charged with bringing Christ to those who have never heard of him, or to bring him to those, who once knew him, but have grown cold in their faith and no longer see His relevance to their lives.

Today’s gospel describes a story we know very well.  The Magi from the east follow the star to do homage to the newborn king.  St. Matthew tells us that after the wise men have paid their homage they “Departed for their country by another way.”  The Magi after encountering Christ do not walk away the same, they are different.  When we encounter Christ as the magi did our lives too should be different.  And when we are transformed by our encounter with Christ, other people, hopefully, will be transformed by their encounter with us.  They will notice something different about us.  They will be attracted to this faith called Christianity, Catholicism in particular.  Have we let ourselves be radically transformed?  Do we pray for this radical transformation?

M.T. had been profoundly changed by the same Jesus the Magi paid homage to.  She was changed by Jesus every morning in her Eucharistic holy hour, she was changed by Jesus every day at Mass, she was changed by Jesus when she meditated upon His life in the Gospels, and she was changed by Jesus who she found in the poorest of the poor.  It was because she had allowed herself to be transformed that Malcolm Muggeridge was able to write of her in his book, Something Beautiful for God,

“Mother Teresa is, in herself, a living conversion; it is impossible to be with her, to listen to her, to observe what she is doing and how she is doing it, without being in some degree converted. Her total devotion to Christ, her conviction that everyone must be treated, helped, and loved as if he were Christ himself; her simple life lived according to the Gospel and her joy in receiving the sacraments–none of this can be ignored.  There is no book I have read, no speech I have heard … there is no human relationship, or transcendental experience that has brought me closer to Christ, or made me more aware of what the Incarnation means, and what is demanded of us.”

On this feast of the Epiphany as we celebrate the encounter of the Magi with the Christ child, we ask ourselves whether our own encounter with Christ leads us back by a different road, making us instruments of evangelization which M.T. and thousands and thousands and thousands of saints have carried out so well.  Once, when preaching on the feast of the Epiphany, St. Augustine said, “Even we, recognizing Christ our King and Priest who died for us, have honored him as if we had offered him gold, incense, and myrrh.  But what remains, is for us to bear witness to him by taking a different road from that on which we came.”  If we truly bear witness to Christ by taking a different road then we can firmly hope that God will use us the way he used Mother Teresa to bring others to the faith.

That what happened to Malcolm Muggeridge will happen to many others through the Holy Spirit working through us, enabling us to say confidently with the Psalmist today, “Lord, every nation on earth will adore you.”

Merry Christmas,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

Dear Friends,

In a small Michigan town there was a police department that built a rifle range where the policemen could practice their shooting skills.  By a strange coincidence, two starlings decided to build a nest in a pile of brush and sticks that were used to stop the bullets as they whizzed through or past the targets.  Their little nest was almost directly in the line of fire.  In that dangerous spot, the birds built their nest, hatched their eggs, and raised their young.  Bullets splintered twigs all around them, and threw up dirt and dust over their tiny nest.  But the birds stayed anyway.  Only when the chicks were fully grown did the family of starlings leave their dangerous home.  One of the policemen was curious about how the starlings managed to remain safe despite all the bullets whizzing around them.  He wondered why a bullet never killed any of the birds.  So one day he went over to the nest, and as he inspected it a coin fell from it.  He picked up the coin and smiled after reading the familiar words:  “In God We Trust.”

“In God We Trust.”  This simple motto was the motto of the Holy Family.  It was the principle by which they lived their lives and survived the dangers, and trials, and threats of their time.  We know little about the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.  What we do know comes mostly from the Gospel passages we hear at this time of year.

This year we hear the story of the Holy Family’s flight into Egypt.  The Gospel reminds us that the Holy Family didn’t live in isolation.  They didn’t live in a cocoon sheltered from the struggles and sorrows of everyday life.  They lived in the real world that was at times very cold and dark.  They struggled, just like us.  St. Matthew tells us that an angel appeared in a dream to Joseph, and commanded him to take his family to safety in Egypt.  He wanted Joseph and his family to escape the plans of King Herod.  Herod was trying to destroy the Child Jesus because he feared Jesus would become a political rival.  So at his command all male children 2 years and younger living in the vicinity of Bethlehem was killed (slaughter of the innocents).  King Herod was violently insecure about his position as king.  He murdered any suspected rival even killing his wife and three of his sons.  Nobody was going to take his kingship away from him.  Not even this baby named Jesus.  King Herod responded to his fears with anger, and destruction, and violence.

As we know threats to the family are not a thing of the past.  There are still many threats to family life in the 21^st century.  They include a contraceptive mentality, which separates life and love; individualism, which isolates couples from each other; governmental attempts to redefine marriage and family; abortion, no-fault divorce, materialism, and poor moral examples in movies and TV which promote false ideas of marriage and love.

How do we deal with these modern threats, these modern King Herods?  We could follow the example of St. Joseph.  King Herod responded to fear with anger, destruction, and violence.  St. Joseph on the other hand when tempted to fear responds instead with trust. He didn’t do what the society of that time thought was best.  Instead he trusted that God would lead him on the better path.   Joseph placed himself and his little family under the guiding hand of God, following God’s direction and law.  He accepted the child who came, not from himself, but from God, he treated the child Jesus not as a possession at his disposal, but as a responsibility entrusted to him by God.  His whole life, like that of all fathers was focused on the mission of raising and caring for his foster child Jesus.  It wasn’t about him anymore; rather, his new purpose was now service to his child.   Guiding, guarding, teaching, and serving as the model of a God-fearing man.

Joseph lets himself be led by God, in God he trusted.  But as we read in scripture God only gives Joseph guidance one step at a time, Joseph hears in a dream, take Mary into your home Joseph and he does.  Later in another dream he hears, take your family to Egypt Joseph and he does.  And finally while in Egypt he hears in a dream; go back to the land of Israel Joseph and he does.  At each of these commands no further instruction is given.  As he takes each of these steps Joseph doesn’t know how it will all turn out, but yet he trusts, taking each step, knowing God is right there with him.

To let God lead our hearts the way Joseph did means regularly spending time listening to Him in prayer.  It means learning and knowing our Catholic faith and what it asks of us.  It means letting go our own willfulness, consenting to God’s guidance trusting that He is always leading us on good paths even if they are difficult paths.  When we live this way we have no need of fear, we’ve placed our lives into God’s hands.

May the Holy Family inspire our families to grow closer to God our Father.

Merry Christmas,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

Dear Friends,

On this final Sunday of Advent we are presented with two men, Ahaz of the Old Testament and Joseph of the New Testament.  One trusted the other did not.

Our first reading from Isaiah is one of the most descriptive prophesies foretelling of the future Messiah.  Ahaz is a descendent of King David and he is the king of Judah; he’s a young and inexperienced king.  And he’s expecting his country to be attacked from the combined forces of Israel and Syria.  Ahaz is not in a good spot and he’s wondering whether to trust in God or to depend upon the neighboring army of Assyria, who he’s asked to help him in defense of his country.  God tells Ahaz to ask for a sign, but Ahaz refuses.  He’d rather decide his own fate and that of his kingdom rather than trusting in God.  He says, “I will not ask!  I will not tempt the Lord!”

Now Ahaz might appear to be holy and pious when he says, “I will not tempt God,”  but actually what he’s saying is that he doesn’t want anyone telling him what to do; he wasn’t going to allow this prophet of God to determine his plans.

God was inviting him to ask for anything no matter how big or how grand, but Ahaz was afraid to trust God, and so he refused.  Isaiah, frustrated responds, “Is it not enough for you to weary people, must you also weary my God!”

Sometimes I think we react a lot like Ahaz.  We’d rather put our trust in ourselves and in those around us who we can see rather than to trust in God, whom we can’t see.  Maybe God seems too out of reach for us, and in our weakness or fear, we just push Him aside and put our trust in our self or in others.

We are sometimes tempted like Ahaz to trust in our own ability to solve problems and to find happiness.  We do this rather than being vulnerable by trusting in God. We do this because God might lead us down a path that is unfamiliar and uncomfortable.  We are not ready to reject the so-called happiness that the world offers.  Fr. Cantalamessa, the papal preacher, points out that the problem with this age (those who don’t follow Christ, and often even many who do), is that they’ve turned upside-down the manner of finding happiness.  Instead of making God their happiness, they’ve made happiness their “god.”  When you make God your happiness, God gives you happiness.  You find both God and happiness.  But when you make happiness your “god,” that is, when you seek happiness (in money, power, pleasure, honor) rather than God, you lose both – you lose both happiness and God.

There is a story of a young man who had avoided going to Church because he knew that if he started taking his faith seriously, he’d have to change his life.  It took him years to realize that his immoral lifestyle did not bring him happiness.  When he finally took the step to return to the Lord, everything changes.  Others told him that he wasn’t the same guy.  He agreed, “That’s right,” he said, “I’m happy now.”  Perhaps there are times that we think that embracing God in our lives would cost too much.  And, consequently we end up avoiding happiness.  There is a temptation in all of us to act like Ahaz.

Even after Ahaz rejects God, God tells him – I will give you a sign; the virgin will conceive and bear a son.  She will name him Emmanuel: Emmanuel meaning God is with us.  God is telling Ahaz, just as he’s telling us:  do not be afraid, trust me; I am with you.

In our Gospel from Matthew we have our second Advent man, Joseph.  And Joseph like Ahaz is also a descendant of David and he is told by an angel, “Do not be afraid to take Mary, your wife, into your home.”  What might he be afraid of?  There was the fear of what others might think.  Perhaps Joseph was fearful and worried about what this Mary was really like.  He knew he wasn’t the father of the child she carried.  Perhaps he was fearful of the religious authorities.  What if he was caught protecting Mary and she was viewed as violating the Law of Moses. Her pregnancy could be viewed as an offense punishable by stoning.  Or maybe he was afraid that he couldn’t love this child as a father.

But the angel told him- do not be afraid.  Trust God, for this child is special and so is his mother. It is the work of the Holy Spirit.  Do not be afraid, trust in God.  And so, unlike Ahaz, Joseph puts his complete trust in God.  God would figure out how to deal with the gossip, god would figure out how to deal with the Law of Moses, and God would figure out how to deal with his concerns about the child.

So: Jesus is Emmanuel, God with us.  In His earthly life, Jesus truly showed Himself to be God-with-us. As He healed the sick, and raised the dead, He visibly brought about salvation.

But what about now? Is He still today “Emmanuel, God with us” in so great a way?  Yes! Just as He is announced as “Emmanuel” at the beginning of St. Matthew’s Gospel (Mt 1:23), so His final words at the end of Matthew are: “I am with you always, even to the end of the age” (Mt 28:20). By the power of the Holy Spirit, Jesus comes to live even more intimately in you than He did during the whole of His time on earth. And He wants each of you to know Him just as intimately.

In the Eucharist, He comes to you now in a way even more intimate than the way He was present, in the flesh, on earth. He comes to you now, not only from the outside, as He did when He walked the earth; He comes to you now also on the inside, as you take Him in, and “God-with-us” becomes “God-in-you.” And that is something we can trust.

Merry Christmas,

Fr. Christopher Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today the color of my chasuble has changed.  I don’t wear violet, today I wear rose, not pink. This rose color is a visual symbol that Christmas is getting closer. Just as the dark night sky begins to glow with a pale, rose-colored light as the sun starts to rise, so too the color of my vestments goes from dark to light.  The true light of the world is coming.

In our hearts too the color should be changing. For the first weeks of Advent, we’ve meditated on our need for God; we’ve meditated on our sinfulness, and on our helplessness in achieving salvation on our own.  Today we switch gears. Without forgetting our need for a Savior, we focus our attention more on that Savior himself.

Christ came on the first Christmas into a stable in order to lift up this fallen world.  And he wants to come again into our hearts this Christmas and every day for the same reason, to raise our fallen hearts.  When Jesus came to earth, he met the blind, and gave them sight; he met the poor, and gave them hope; and he met the lame, giving them strength.

He’s begun the very same work in us, and he’s eager to continue it. We are sometimes blinded by ignorance and selfishness, and so he offers us light in the teachings of his Church. We are sometimes poor in virtue, and so he fills us with the gifts of the Holy Spirit. We are sometimes lame and unable to pray as we should, or to bear witness as we should, or to love as we should, and so he heals and strengthens us in the sacrament of reconciliation and nourishes us with His very self in the Eucharist.

Today is Gaudete Sunday, and this word Gaudete means rejoice.  And we rejoice because we know that Jesus came to open a path from earth into heaven. Even in the midst of pain and sorrow the joy of the Christian is the joy of a hope guaranteed by God himself.  The joy of hope is a true joy, and Christ is its source.

This past Monday was the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception.  And for many years it’s been a tradition for families to set up their nativities right after this Solemnity.  We do it to relive with Mary those days full of trepidation that preceded the birth of Christ.  Now St. Francis set up the first live nativity in the year 1223.  In that year at Christmas St. Francis found himself in the small town of Grecchio.  This was a small Italian town built on the side of a mountain.  And St. Francis wanted Midnight Mass to be celebrated in a place large enough so that all of the people in town could attend.  Their Franciscan chapel was much too small.  So St. Francis went looking for a larger place to celebrate Mass.  And he found the spot.  He found a cave like niche in the side of the mountain near the town square.  “Perfect” he thought, so in this niche within the rock of the mountain he placed an altar.  And then he was inspired, this cave like niche reminded him of the very first Christmas where our Lord was born in similar circumstance.  He said to his brothers, “I want to make a memorial of that Child who was born in Bethlehem and in some sort behold with our eyes the hardships of His infant state, lying on hay in a manger with the ox and donkey standing by.”  And that’s what they did.  He found a manger for a crib and filled it with hay.  He then found both a donkey and an ox and tied them up next to the crib.  There were probably even a few sheep running around.  And that’s where the people of Grecchio celebrated Midnight Mass in the year 1223.  They celebrated Mass in a stable with a manger in their midst and with the townspeople crowding in and around animals.  At that Christmas in a very profound way the townspeople of Grecchio mediated on the hardships and humility of our infant Lord born into a stable.  They also meditated on his infinite love for us to be born in such a way just for us.  This custom of making a Christmas crib was probably not unknown before this time, but this use of it by St. Francis is said to have begun its subsequent popularity.  So we can thank St. Francis for this custom of setting up the Christmas crib.  I can tell you I have five of them set up in the rectory.

I’d like to end with a poem that was sent to me last week.  It’s about a woman named Bilfina.

Bilfina, the Housewife, scrubbing her pane

Saw three old sages ride down the lane,

Saw three gray travelers pass her door—

Gaspar, Balthazar and Melchior.

“Where journey you, sirs?” she asked of them.

Balthazar answered, “To Bethlehem,

For we have news of a marvelous thing,

Born in a stable is Christ the King.”

“Give Him my welcome!” she said

Then Gaspar smiled,

“Come with us, mistress, to greet the child.”

“Oh, happily, happily would I fare,

Were my dusting through and I’d polished the stair.”

Old Melchior leaned on his saddle horn,

“Then send but a gift to the small Newborn.’

“Oh, gladly, gladly, I’d send him one,

Were the hearthstone swept

and my weaving done.

As soon as I’ve baked my bread,

I’ll fetch him a pillow for his head,

And a coverlet too,” Bilfina said.

“When the rooms are aired and the linen dry,

I’ll look at the Babe,”

But the three rode by.

She worked for a day, and a night and a day,

Then gifts in her hands, took up her way.

But she never found where the Christ child lay.

And she still wanders at Christmastide,

Houseless whose house was all her pride.

Whose heart was tardy, whose gifts were late;

Wanders and knocks at every gate.

Crying, “Good people, the bells begin!

Put off your toiling and let love in.”

In these remaining days of Advent, don’t let busyness get in the way of meditating upon Christ in the crib, don’t hide Jesus until the 25^th, keep him out in plain sight.  Using the image of Christ in the crib to lift your heart and mind to the heights of heaven.  Put off toiling and let love and joy in.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today’s first reading from Isaiah is a reminder of the Jesse Tree, a symbol sometimes used in Advent. The real Jesse tree is the genealogical family tree of Jesus.   Now during Advent families will sometimes decorate a tree with ornaments depicting Jesus’ ancestors.  An ornament each day is place on the tree until the 25^th of December and on that day a Jesus ornament is placed at the very top.

In the history of art the usual depiction of the Jesse Tree shows Jesse, the father of King David, asleep with a tree growing from his side (reminding us of Adam and the rib that was taken from his side).  Various people from scripture particularly those listed in the genealogies of Matthew and Luke are then shown in the branches leading from the base of the tree until finally we find Jesus, Mary, and Joseph at the top.   At St. Catherine’s in Portage you can see a Jesse painted on the wall behind the statues of the Holy Family.  The tree’s roots are made up of the Tribes of Israel.  The Star of David is at the center of the tree.  And Jesus the King is at the top.

Our reading from Isaiah today is one of the most beautiful passages in scripture.  It describes a leader sent from God, a leader who will bring peace to the world.  To the people of Judah listening this was an intensely important message of hope.  At the time of this prophesy the kingdom of Judah had had a succession of kings where every king was worse than the one before him.  At the time of this prophecy, King Ahaz is on the throne.  He inherited the kingdom from his father King Jotham.  He inherited a kingdom that was surrounded by powerful enemies and at the same time he inherited a kingdom that was weakened by internal division.  Ahaz’s people could not work together, they didn’t trust each other.

Eventually Ahaz found himself under siege by both the Kingdom of Israel to the north and the kingdom of Syria to the south.  Isaiah’s message to King Ahaz was very simple.  Isaiah told Ahaz, “If you remain faithful to God and keep your people faithful, then Judah will triumph.”  But King Ahaz didn’t trust God.  Instead, to save his throne, he entered into an alliance with Assyria.  The country of Assyria was feared by everyone in the Middle East, Israel and Syria included.  But this alliance came with a cost.

With this alliance Ahaz had to give up the worship of Yahweh, and in place of this right worship he had to worship the false gods of Assyria.  And to worship these pagan gods Ahaz had to practice child sacrifice.  Because he did not trust God, Ahaz sacrificed his own son to the idols of Assyria.  With this act the royal line of Judah couldn’t have moved any further away from Yahweh.  With the kingdom losing its soul Isaiah turned his attention to the people to offer them hope.  The stump of Jesse, meaning the royal line, was being cut down, however, he assured the people, and that the line of Jesse would not end.  As we heard, “On that day, a shoot shall sprout from the stump of Jesse, and from his roots a bud shall blossom.  And the spirit of the Lord shall rest upon him.”

Now in the Gospel we hear from John the Baptist and his message, by contrast, is hard and relentless.  “Repent for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!”  “Every tree that does not bear fruit will be cut down.”   However his message too offers hope; because like Isaiah he too speaks of this tender shoot from the stump of Jesse, the messiah is coming, get ready, and his message of repentance affected hearts.  The people flocked to him repenting of sin and changing their ways.  What of us?  Is there anything in our lives that needs reforming?  Is there anything we want to change?  Now is the time, during this season of hope, now is the time.  with each passing week our Advent wreath gets brighter and brighter with the light of Christ.  Our Lord is coming and we are closer to that moment right now, than we were yesterday.    We’re closer to Christmas and we’re closer to the end of time, is there anything we want to change in our lives?

We are part of the Tree of Jesse.  Through baptism into Christ we have become part of the royal House of David, this is our inheritance.  King Ahaz lost his inheritance because of his self-interest.  He was more focused on preserving his throne than in preserving his faith and the faith of his country.  Has our self-interest caused us to choose ourselves over the Kingdom of God?

Jesus, the tender shoot of Jesse is our hope and our promise.  Let us prepare for his coming.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

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

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

Pier Giorgio, a Third Order Dominican, received communion every day, confession every week, and many nights he would spend in adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, with his skis lying next to him.  They say he loved to sing, but he sounded awful, so he would have to sit in the back so as not to distract too many people.  He has been described as athletic, handsome, and bounding with charisma, he also had a reputation as a practical joker.  His pranks included short-sheeting priest’s beds. In 1925 Frassati died after contracting polio from a man he was helping.  He was only 24.  As the funeral procession left the Turin Church his family was surprised to see the numbers of poor people lining the street to honor their son.  The poor were just as surprised to see that their benefactor came from such a rich and powerful family.  In the early 20^th century Frassati’s story became well known and it inspired Catholics across the world including a young Polish student Karol Woytjla, future pope.  In 1990 Pope St. John Paul II beatified Frassati calling him a man of the beatitudes.  Pier Giorgio’s body is incorrupt and he’s a patron of the youth.

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

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

This is our mountain; you could call it Mount St. Jerome.  Pier Giorgio used to encourage his friends as they climbed with this phrase because they always lagged behind, he said to them, “Higher and higher there, you can hear the voice of Christ!”  Come to St. Jerome; come to the mountain week after week and you will hear the voice of Christ!

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

Let us become great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Today, the solemnity of Christ the King is the last Sunday of the Church’s year.  This solemnity is a relatively new one; it was only instituted in 1925 by Pope Pius XI.  It was begun during a time in which certain secular rulers were launching dictatorships which were expressions of hate and destruction.  Through this solemnity Pope Pius XI wanted to reassert the ultimate and universal kingship of Jesus Christ and his law of love and truth.

Next Sunday begins Advent, and with it comes the beginning of a new year for the Church.  All this year we have been reading from the Gospel of St. Luke and at the very beginning of his Gospel, we find a great promise.  A messenger from God tells a very young woman from the village of Nazareth that she is going to conceive a child, a son, whom she is to call Jesus.  And the promise goes like this:  “He will be great, and will be called the Son of the Most High; and the Lord God will give to him the throne of his father David, and he will reign over the house of Jacob forever; and of his kingdom there will be no end.” Her child is going to be a king.  And not just any king, but the great promised Prince of Peace, the Redeemer–King for whom people had been hoping and longing for centuries, the One who would bring to the whole world peace and salvation.  But now at the end of the year at the end of Luke’s Gospel we hear what sounds like a mockery.   Our Savior has been crucified.  His throne is now a Cross his crown is made of thorns and for royal company he has two criminals, one to his right and one to his left.  (I don’t have a good segue for this next part)

A while back I was at Borgess Hospital visiting with an older woman by the name of Eugenia who was just waking up from anesthesia and she began to tell me a story that she had heard many times while she was a little girl growing up in Poland.  This story is about the child Jesus and his parents Mary and Joseph as they made their way to Egypt escaping Herod’s massacre.  At a certain point in their trip the Holy family stopped at an oasis for a much needed rest.  Traveling in the desert can make one quite dusty and the baby Jesus was in need of a bath and it just so happened that another young family was close by and they were preparing a bath for their own young son.  So the Blessed Virgin Mary approached that young mom and asked if she might use some of that bath water for her baby Jesus.  The young woman said, “yes, you can use all the water we have, bathe your baby first and then afterwards I’ll bathe mine.”    That young mother who said this and was very generous in giving the Holy Family first use of the water because her own baby was afflicted with a terrible skin disease and she didn’t want any other baby to contract the disease.  So Mary bathed Jesus in the offered bath water and afterwards the young mom bathed her own suffering son.  And after that bath her son was miraculously cured of his disease, no more suffering.   The woman telling me this story from her hospital bed then went on to say, “You know, Fr., pointing her finger at me that baby, cured of his disease and his suffering, would grow up to become the good thief crucified at the right hand of Christ.”  After the woman in the hospital finished telling me the story I thanked her and told her I’d repeat her story someday.

This childhood account of Jesus is not part of scripture so we have no way of knowing if it’s true.  It did however; bring comfort to a woman who was suffering in a hospital bed and was not so sure of what would happen next.  She was comforted by a King who even as a baby was present to someone’s suffering.  She was comforted by a king who suffered with her, always there in the midst of her own suffering.  And we see this too with the good thief.  Jesus suffered right along with this man.

In those few short hours that the good thief endured on the cross next to our dying Savior he made great progress in the spiritual life.  He made great progress in faith, hope, and charity.  The cross took everything away from him.  All he had left was his mind, his voice, and his heart and these he gave totally to our Lord.  He turned his heart to Jesus in faith and hope by asking for a place in paradise.  And in charity he proclaims the innocence and holiness of Jesus, and even tries to convert the other crucified thief.  Our King is a king whose throne is a cross and with the crosses we bear he is always there with us.  St. Augustine once said that the Cross is, “A great spectacle:  a great jest for the ungodly, but a great mystery to the godly; it’s a great mark of disgrace to the wicked, but a great evidence of faith to the godly; ungodliness, as it looks on, laughs at a king bearing the wood of His punishment instead of His scepter:  while the godly behold a king bearing the cross on which He was to be nailed.  He is scorned in the eyes of the ungodly for that very thing in which the hearts of the saints would thereafter glory.”  We glory in the Cross of our King because it’s our ladder to heaven.

The next time we come into a difficulty, or we suffer, or circumstances seem to be beyond our control let us remember the good thief.  Let us remember his faith, hope, and charity. And let us make his words our prayer, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.”

No power in this world can remove or destroy what our king gives; and that’s eternal life.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley