Dear Friends,

“Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.”

Some 1600 years ago a man by the name of St. Jerome wrote these famous words.  What is often surprising to most people is that Jerome wrote these words in a reflection on Isaiah.  Now Isaiah is in the Old Testament and what Jerome was saying, is that to truly know the full identity of Jesus we have to be familiar with all that was written about Him centuries before, and we must be familiar with the many events recorded in the Old Testament, the events that prefigure what Jesus would do for us.  If we’re to understand Easter, really understand Easter, we need to know the Old Testament, because all of it prepares for Jesus.

Salvation history is a drama.  And God is the author.  Great authors often start their novels with characters and events, which at the time; seem obscure and insignificant but later turn out to be crucial for understanding the ending of the story.  The Bible is like that.  Now, we don’t have time to address all the figures and events that foreshadow Jesus and the great day of Easter.  But we must, absolutely must, know well at least one event.  That event is known as the Exodus, and it is found way back in the second book of the Bible.

The Jewish people, the Israelites, had been slaves for 430 years in Egypt.  And for that whole time they were oppressed by the cruelty of the kings of Egypt, the pharaohs, who took away their freedom and dignity and used them to build the cities and monuments of Egypt.  430 years!  That’s almost twice as long as the history of our country.  Imagine what our national psyche would be like if, from the date of our founding, we had lived as slaves to another people?  Despair would be rampant.  Hopelessness would be the norm.  Life would seem, and would be in many ways, meaningless.  But God rescued the Israelites from their slavery.  He did this by raising up a man named Moses, through whom He worked great signs and wonders.

The greatest of all the signs and wonders happened shortly after the Israelites left Egypt when Pharaoh, suddenly awakened to what he had lost, sent his army after them to bring them back.  That army finally caught up to them and trapped them at the shores of the Red Sea.  And suddenly the Israelites were stuck.  In front of them was a body of water.  And behind them was the most powerful army in the world.  So they did what I would do, what many would do.  They complained!  They cried out! They despaired!  They thought it was hopeless.  They thought that the God who had rescued them from slavery would be unable to save them.

But then Moses said to the people.  In the midst of all their fear, and confusion, and despair, Moses instructed the people to turn around and to look at the Egyptian army.  And as they did so, full of fear, he said to them, “Look well at this army, this enemy that you see today, for you will never see them again!”  And with that the waters of the Red Sea parted, and the Israelites walked through as if on dry land, and when the Egyptian army followed in after them, the waters returned to their normal place, destroying forever the slave masters and oppressors of the Israelites.

That event, that real event, is meant to help us understand what is happening today and why we are celebrating with such joy, not just today, but for the next 50 days (we had 40 days of fasting for lent, we now have 50 days of feasting and joy for Easter).  The waters of the Red Seas were a foreshadowing of the sacrament of baptism.  And just as the Egyptians were drowned in those waters of the Red Seas, so are the sins of those baptized drowned in the waters of the font.  Just as that water broke pharaoh’s stranglehold on the Israelites, so will the water of the font destroy the grip of the powers of hell.  And Jesus, the new Moses, the one whom Moses foreshadowed, speaks now to those about to enter the waters of baptism and says, “Your sins, those enemies and memories that chase and harass you and accuse you and tell you that you are stuck the way you are, you will never see again!”

What difference does Jesus’ death and resurrection really make for our lives?  It makes all the difference in the world!  The Exodus told the Israelites, and Jesus’ death and resurrection tells us, that God exists.  He cares.  He saves.  He rescues. He intervenes.  He gets involved.  He get his hands dirty, he gets His hands bloody.  And He does this because He loves.

Many of us, I know, feel trapped, hemmed in by present circumstances at work, in our marriage, at home, in our family, our personal life.  We can feel like the Israelites staring at the Red Sea in front of us and the Egyptian army behind us; or like Jesus’ mother Mary and John the Apostle standing at the foot of the cross on Good Friday.  All can look bleak.  There seems to be no way out. But just as all that was foretold in the Old Testament was fulfilled in Jesus, so all that he has promised us will also be fulfilled.  The enemies that chase and harass us and cause us so much fear and sadness in our lives, and the greatest of those enemies is death, one day we will never see them again.  It might be a while yet until that happens, but it will happen, as surely as the Israelites pass through the Red Sea as on dry land, as surely as Christ truly and bodily rose from the dead.

I have two stories about lives that were transformed by Christ’s resurrection.  The first is about a working class-man with almost no education.  He tried to make something better out of his humble, poor life, by going to work for a friend who was starting a new company.  He was hoping for a new lease on life, but it didn’t work out.  In fact, his friend was arrested and thrown in prison, wrongly condemned for a crime he didn’t commit.  In the end, he was brutally killed by a furious mob.  The working class man was not only discouraged by this failure, but he was actually afraid that the same thing might happen to him.  So he disowned his old friend and, dejected, went back to his former life.

The second story is about a talented woman with a poor reputation who had squandered her abundant gifts.  She never got respect, and never did anything to deserve it.  A slave to her own sin, she cried herself to sleep night after night.  She simply couldn’t imagine a better life than the one she was living.  Then she met someone who gave her hope, the same man from the first story, who was starting a new business.  She also went to work for him, trying to get a new lease on life.  But then he was murdered, and her hope was extinguished.

And what happened next?  Well, they found out that Jesus rose from the dead, and that made all the difference, for the woman’s name is St. Mary Magdalene, and the man is St. Peter.  Putting our faith in Christ, our stories become just like theirs.

This truth, that Jesus’ resurrection has destroyed death forever is what takes the sting out of our tears.  This truth that the devil has been stripped of his power just as Pharaoh was stripped of his power is what enables us to live with hope.  The basic message of Easter is perhaps simply this:  what God does best is to turn trash into gold, darkness into light, and death into life.  His power is literally beyond anything we can ever, ever imagine.  And His love, His love, is even greater than his power.   Happy Easter!

Pax et Bonum,

Rev. Christopher J. Ankley

 

Dear Friends,

Today is Palm Sunday and these palms we hold are the ancient world’s symbol of triumph. People would wave them at the King or his general as he entered the capital city after a successful campaign. Christians see them as a symbol of our Lord’s triumph and definitive victory over sin, and death, and hopelessness. That’s why we place them on our crucifixes. Today is also known as Passion Sunday where Catholics throughout the world once again turn their hearts and minds to the suffering and death of Jesus. Whenever we enter a Catholic church we see the different images of the passion. In the fourteen Stations of the Cross we see the passion played out. And right now I want to focus on station number six, Veron-ica wipes the face of Jesus.

Now in the movie, “The Passion of the Christ” by Mel Gibson the actress who imitated the actions of St. Veronica had con-version experience, right there in the midst of filming the scene. Sabrina Impacciatore is an Italian actress and although she had grown up Catholic, she had long ago stopped practicing her faith. At the time when they began filming, she was at a spiritual low point in her life. She later explained that she really wanted to believe in Jesus, but she just couldn’t do it.

Her scene in the movie is quite memorable. Jesus is carrying his cross to Calvary and he falls again for the third time. The crowds surge in around him, abusing him as he lies on the ground. Without much success the soldiers try to control the crowds. And gliding through the middle of all this confusion is Veronica. She looks at Jesus with love and devotion. She kneels down beside him and says, “Lord, permit me.” She takes a white cloth and wipes his face which is covered with blood, dirt, and sweat. She then offers him a drink. It’s a brief moment of intimacy in the middle of violent suffering. Sa-brina said it was a very hard scene to film. The churning crowd kept bumping into her and disrupting the moment of inti-macy. And so they had to film it over and over again. Twenty times they had to film it before getting it right.

And that was providential. Because after twenty times of kneeling before the suffering Christ, looking into his eyes, and calling him Lord, the actress felt something start to melt inside her. She wasn’t seeing the actor pretending to be our Lord; she was seeing our Lord himself. Later, she explained that while she looked into his eyes, she found that she was able to believe. “For a moment,” she said, “I believed!” That experience lit the flame of hope in her darkened heart.

Sabrina finally understood the words Jesus spoke from the Cross when he said, “Father, forgive them, they know not what they do.” The brutality of the scene made a big impression on her. She found herself thinking, “Jesus is someone I can trust, he went through this for me.” Even when we reject him, scourge him, crown him with thorns, betray him, and finally crucify him, our Lord still continues to love us. The Passion is God saying to us, I will keep loving you.
The name Veronica comes from the two words vera and icon and these two words mean true image. This true image re-fers to the image of Jesus’ face that was left on the cloth that was used to wipe his face. This relic is kept at the Vatican and scientists can’t explain it. Vera icon, the true image, eventually became Veronica, the name given to the anonymous woman who loved Jesus. As Christians, all of us are supposed to be a Veronica, a true icon, a true image of Jesus. Be-cause it’s only in him, only when we live in his image, living as a true icon of our Lord, that we can truly be happy.

When we pray the Stations of the Cross, right before station number six we sing of Veronica. We sing, “Brave but trem-bling came the woman, none but she would flaunt the Roman, moved by love beyond her fear.” So as we enter into Holy Week, like Sabrina that actress, like St. Veronica herself, let us look into the eyes of our Lord, giving ourselves to him in all things. Praying for the grace to not be afraid to love. To pray for the grace to not be afraid to bring Him all of our sins, to bring to him our hurts, our doubts, our troubles, our hardness of hearts, our everything. Trusting Him in everything. In doing this our Lord will transform us, making us into a true image of Himself.

Let us be great Saints,

Rev. Christopher J. Ankley

 

Dear Friends,

There’s a saying that every Saint has a past and that every sinner has a future.  In all three readings today we look forward.  We look to fresh beginnings and we look to not getting trapped in the past.  All three readings today tell us that we have a God who makes all things new, he doesn’t want us trapped in the exile of sin, and in this we find hope.

A few weeks ago we celebrated St. Patrick’s Day and in St. Patrick we see a saint with a past, he spent the first fifteen years of his life ignoring God and for him we know God made all things new. When we think of St. Patrick we usually think of a man dressed in green Bishop’s clothing holding some sort of a shamrock.   But St. Patrick is so much more than just a man dressed in green covered in shamrocks.  As Bishop of Ireland he was pretty much responsible for the conversion of the whole island.   Even though he lived in the 4th and 5th centuries we do have some of his letters.  We have his autobiography “The Confessions” and we have a letter he wrote to a man who had kidnapped some of his newly baptized flock; we also have his great prayer the Lorica.

St. Patrick was born in Cumberland England in the late fourth century, probably around the year 389.  And even though his grandfather was a priest and his father was a deacon Patrick spent the first fifteen years of his life ignoring God.  Not really believing all that his religious family taught him.  He rebelled.  When he was fifteen, however, Patrick’s life changed forever, he was kidnapped by Irish pirates.  He was sold into slavery and he spent the next five to six years shepherding sheep on a lonely Irish mountain.  It was during this time that Patrick experienced a conversion.  Patrick would later write that his slavery was the door into his recognition of God.  Slavery was his door to finding God, finding God to be the friend of his soul.  In Irish he called God his Anam Cara, his soul friend, Anam meaning soul and Cara meaning friend.

After six years of slavery Patrick escaped, probably first to France and then later back home to England.  He was twenty-two.  His captivity had meant spiritual conversion and recognition of his calling to the priesthood.  He went first to France to study for the priesthood; he was ordained and spent the next 15 or so years in France.    Patrick was not the most learned of priests, he would later be criticized for his lack of theological knowledge.  He was, however, still consecrated a Bishop at the age of 43.  At that time he was beginning to realize that his growing desire was to preach the Gospel to the Irish.

In a dream he said it seemed that, “All the children of Ireland from their mothers’ wombs were stretching out their hands to me.”  He understood the vision to be a call to do mission work in pagan Ireland.  Despite opposition from those who felt his education had been defective, he was sent to carry out the task.  They weren’t expecting much from him.  However, early on through his preaching Patrick made numerous converts.

In his preaching Patrick was emphatic in encouraging widows and widowers to remain chaste and encouraging young women to consecrate their virginity to Christ.  He ordained many priests, divided the country into dioceses, held Church councils, founded several monasteries and continually urged his people to greater holiness in Christ.   He baptized and confirmed thousands and thousands and thousands of people.  In his thirty years of evangelizing much of the Island was converted.  And later, missionaries from Ireland would go on to convert the continent of Europe.

Yet in spite of all this success Patrick met great opposition and criticism from other Church officials.  They didn’t like the way he conducted his missions, they still thought him a bit dumb, and even though he lived a life beyond reproach, they criticized him for the sinful behavior of his younger years, something that had been forgiven decades ago.  He was condemned by the religious people of his day, in much the same way the woman caught in adultery was condemned by the religious of her day.

But Patrick resisted, in the midst of the accusers he clung to Christ, in the same way the woman of today’s gospel learns to cling to Christ, the new friend of her soul.   In both these cases it was religious people who wanted to trap Patrick and the woman in their past sins.  Religion is to be used as a power of liberation, of looking forward of being freed of a sinful past.  Our solidarity in sin ought to awaken in us a greater compassion for others, it shouldn’t prompt us to attack but instead should prompt us to solidarity.

As St. Augustine once said the misery of the woman caught in adultery meets the mercy of Christ.  And when Jesus tells her to go and do not sin anymore he’s emphasizing the future, he’s emphasizing that because she is to become a future saint.  And he’s telling her to follow God’s upward calling in himself, the call to be holy. He makes everything new.  Now we might be imprisoned by past sins, we might cringe about something in our past that causes shame, maybe we can’t let go of resentment, maybe there’s some roadblock to reconciliation, or maybe we’re convinced that God won’t forgive.  In all these cases we are misery, but mercy is always right in front of us.  Jesus is always with us.  As St. Patrick once prayed:  Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise, Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me.  Salvation is of the Lord.  Salvation is of the Lord.  Salvation is of the Christ.  May your salvation O Lord, be ever with us.

Saints always have a past and sinners always have a future.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

 

Dear Friends,

Earlier this week in thinking about today’s Gospel, thinking about a Father and his sons, I thought about my own father and an incident that I haven’t thought about in a very long time.  It involves my Dad, my brother Matt, and me.  One day, in early spring, I was about seven I think, dad came home pulling into the driveway with his white Chevy truck.  Matt and I went out to meet him and with our exceptional eyesight we spied two candy bars sitting on the dashboard.  Of course we asked, “Are those for us,” knowing that they probably were.  Dad said, “Yes” but then he told us not to touch them, leave them; they’re for later, for after dinner.  He then pulled the truck into the barn, candy bars still on the dashboard, doors unlocked.  He then took the tractor and went out to the field behind the house to plow.    Matt and I just watched Dad plowing the field just going back and forth, back and forth.

Temptation was too great; you probably know what happened next, we went to the barn, easily opened the unlocked truck and grabbed the candy.  Now I think most kids would have eaten them right there, but before eating them Matt and I did something a little more obnoxious.  We went to the back yard and started waving to Dad as he plowed the field.  We were jumping up and down, waving our hands, clutching those candy bars, saying, “Ha Ha we got the candy bars, you couldn’t stop us.”  The effects of original sin were alive and well in our young hearts.  Though washed free of Original sin in baptism the attraction to sin remained. I’m sure Dad saw us jumping up and down waving to him and maybe he thought, “How nice my boys are waving to me.”  He couldn’t hear us and I’m sure he couldn’t see the candy bars in our hands.  He knew later of course.

Now there were consequences to our actions, I don’t remember what they were, but I do remember being very sorry.  But Dad never held a grudge and he quickly forgot about the whole incident.  I’m sure we all have our own “candy bar story” of some sort, when we took something, that we just couldn’t live without, taking something and trying to hold on to it, not wanting to let it go, when it would have been, eventually, freely given to us.

In our parable today, maybe one of the greatest parables, the younger son wants something of a much greater value.  He wants it bad.  He wants his inheritance, saying to his father, “Give to me what is mine, give me my inheritance, I can’t wait, I want it now.”  In a sense he’s saying to his father, “I wish you were dead already, hurry up and die, so I can have what’s mine.”  Its all about me, what I want, what I need, me me me.

Now in this parable we get a look at the spiritual life, everything about the spiritual life is in this parable.  To begin with; everything we have is from the Father, our being, our breath, our life, our everything.  God is like a father who gives and gives and gives.  His whole being is for giving.  We’re the children of a hyper generous father.  And when we receive that divine life as a gift we’re meant to give it away.  What we receive we give away, and to live this way is to live in the Loop of Grace. Giving away what we’ve received.  Now the youngest son wants none of this, telling the father, give me what I’m due and get out of my life.  He wants the gifts without the relationship.   And the father respects his freedom.  If you want to go, I’ll let you go, says the father.   So the son leaves taking with him all the father’s gifts.  And in the parable it says that the son sets off to a distant country, and in the original Greek this could also mean he set off to the great empty space, he totally cuts himself off from the father.     In his father’s house the son had everything he needed, he had a fullness of life.  But cut off from that divine life, out in the great empty space, the son’s life soon enters a famine, living in the space of his ego, thinking only of himself; all that the son has received is squandered and lost.   Without a connection to the father he suffers from lifelessness and dryness, he suffers everything we imagine a famine of the soul to be.

Eventually coming to his senses the son goes home, his contrition isn’t perfect, but it’s enough and when the father catches sight of him the father’s heart is filled with compassion (I had a confessor once tell me that the moment we enter the door of a confessional our Father’s heart in the very same way is filled with compassion for us).  Now all this time the father’s been looking and waiting for his son.  God hates our sin not because he’s the heavenly policeman but because sin makes us less alive, so if we enter the great empty space of sin he’s always watching and waiting for us to return.   Now the father in the parable catching sight of his son runs to meet him, embraces him, and kisses him.  For the listeners of Jesus’ time this would have been very odd.  Not the kissing or the embracing but the running.  The patriarch does not run to meet people let alone running to meet a son who’s squandered his property.  But out of love the father humiliates himself to welcome back his son.  He then dresses his son up reminding him of his nobility as a son of the father, and restores him to his original dignity as a beloved son.

Rembrandt painted the homecoming of the prodigal son.  And it’s a very dark painting; the only light in the painting seems to come from the Father.  Light radiates from the Father’s heart as he embraces his son.  We have a Father in heaven who is crazy in love with us, a Father who’s always inviting us into his own life. And even when we enter the great emptiness of sin, he still pursues us and waits for us.   Because his mercy endures forever and his love for us is ever unwearied.

Let us be great Saints,

Rev. Christopher J. Ankley

 

 

 

From a letter of Saint Leo the Great, pope

The mystery of man’s reconciliation with God

Lowliness is assured by majesty, weakness by power, mortality by eternity. To pay the debt of our sinful state, a nature that was incapable of suffering was joined to one that could suffer. Thus, in keeping with the healing that we needed, one and the same mediator between God and men, the man Jesus Christ, was able to die in one nature, and unable to die in the other.

He who is true God was therefore born in the complete and perfect nature of a true man, whole in his own nature, whole in ours. By our nature we mean what the Creator had fashioned in us from the beginning, and took to himself in order to restore it.

For in the Savior there was no trace of what the deceiver introduced and man, being misled, allowed to enter. It does not follow that because he submitted to sharing in our human weakness he therefore shared in our sins.

He took the nature of a servant without stain of sin, enlarging our humanity without diminishing his divinity. He emptied himself; though invisible he made himself visible, though Creator and Lord of all things he chose to be one of us mortal men. Yet this was the condescension of compassion, not the loss of omnipotence. So he who in the nature of God had created man, became in the nature of a servant, man himself.

Thus the Son of God enters this lowly world. He comes down from the throne of heaven, yet does not separate himself from the Father’s glory. He is born in a new condition, by a new birth.

He was born in a new condition, for, invisible in his own nature, he became visible in ours. Beyond our grasp, he chose to come within our grasp. Existing before time began, he began to exist at a moment in time. Lord of the universe, he hid his infinite glory and took the nature of a servant. Incapable of suffering as God, he did not refuse to be a man, capable of suffering. Immortal, he chose to be subject to the laws of death.

He who is true God is also true man. There is no falsehood in this unity as long as the lowliness of man and the pre-eminence of God coexist in mutual relationship.

As God does not change by his condescension, so man is not swallowed up by being exalted. Each nature exercises its own activity, in communion with the other. The Word does what is proper to the Word, the flesh fulfils what is proper to the flesh.

One nature is resplendent with miracles, the other falls victim to injuries. As the Word does not lose equality with the Father’s glory, so the flesh does not leave behind the nature of our race.

One and the same person – this must be said over and over again – is truly the Son of God and truly the son of man. He is God in virtue of the fact that in the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He is man in virtue of the fact that the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us.

 

 

Dear Friends,

St. Boniface was an Englishman born in the 8th century.  But he spent most of his life as a missionary to Germany.  He devoted his life to reforming the young German Catholic Church and to converting the pagans living in the countryside.  Now many times in art St. Boniface is shown swinging an axe, pretty cool.  Because very early on in his life of missionary work he undertook the task of chopping down an enormous oak tree.   This tree was considered sacred to the people worshipping Thor.  St. Boniface advertised the fact that he was going to chop the tree down.  People came from miles around just to watch the spectacle.  They didn’t try to stop him because they thought he’d be struck dead for attacking this sacred tree.

He wasn’t struck dead.  And after hours and hours of chopping, the tree finally fell.  He used the wood to build a chapel.  This was the beginning of that area’s conversion to Christianity.  St. Boniface was a great missionary and as a result the Pope invited him to Rome.  He didn’t stay long, however, because the Pope made him a bishop and then sent him right back to Germany.  This time, he was sent to reform the Catholics that were already there and to continue his evangelization of the non-Christians.

As a reformer St. Boniface got very little respect, especially from those who needed reform.  There were some very hard-headed priests in Germany, priests who were not doing what they were supposed to be doing.  They were poorly educated, superstitious, and morally lax.  Even the secular leaders were unappreciative of his reform efforts.  They preferred working with the slacker priests.  In a moment of exhaustion, disappointment, discouragement, or maybe even frustration St. Boniface wrote the following:

“In her voyage across the ocean of this world, the Church is like a great ship being pounded by the waves of life’s different stresses.  Our duty is not to abandon the ship but to keep her on course…I am terrified,” he goes onto say, “When I think of all this I would gladly give up the task of guiding the Church which I have accepted, if I could find such an action warranted by the example the early Christian Fathers or by holy Scripture.  But I can’t.  So let us stand fast in what is right and prepare our souls for trial.  And let us wait upon God’s strengthening aid.”

All of us at one point or another have, like St. Boniface, felt exhausted, disappointed, discouraged, or frustrated.   A trial of some sort.  Somedays the cross just seems too heavy.  For those of us who’ve felt this way, the Gospel today is for us. It’s proclaimed here today to give us courage in the face of whatever beats us down.  It’s proclaimed here today to help us “stand firm” in the Lord.  It’s proclaimed here today to give us a glimpse of the ending, of the glorious outcome, not only for Jesus but for each one of us, if we stay close to Him.  It’s proclaimed here today to help us when our crosses, our struggles, and our challenges threaten to overwhelm us.

In the Bible our Gospel today is sandwiched between two predictions.  The Transfiguration of Jesus, when the apostles catch a glimpse of our Lord’s glory and majesty shining through His human nature, happens immediately after Jesus’ first prediction of His betrayal, suffering, and death, and immediately before His second prediction of His betrayal, suffering, and death.

The first prediction happens right after Jesus asks the Apostles what the crowds are saying about Him.  “Who do the people say that I am?” He asks.  Peter steps up and says, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”  But then Jesus goes on to tell them that He, the Son of the living God, will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and suffer much, and be put to death, and, on the third day, rise from the dead.   At this Peter grabs Him and says, “Never, Lord!”  And then Jesus grabs Peter and says, “Get behind Me, Satan.  You are not thinking as God does but as man does.”  And if this wasn’t shock enough for the Apostles, Jesus goes on to tell them that if anyone would come after Him and be His disciple it will mean sharing in His suffering, it will mean taking up his or her own cross, it will mean dying to self.  And only after this will that follower share in Jesus’ glory.

The cross, for the first century Palestinian was more than just an image for suffering.  It was disgrace and torture.   His listeners then, and today, can easily become discouraged at the prospect of a Cross.  And so in the face of all of this, while on the mountaintop during the Transfiguration, it’s almost as if Jesus was saying to the Apostles, “What you are seeing right now is real!  Hold on to it!”  And, in our case, He’s saying to us, “What you are hearing proclaimed in your midst is real! Hold onto it! However, he goes on to add, “Before it all finally comes to pass there will be hardships.  But remember this day on the mountain when those hardships come.”  Now we too have other mountain top experiences.  Those moments of profound happiness, those moments of great joy, those moments of intense closeness to God. Where there is true happiness and joy, God is present.  They are times filled with light and presentiments of Heaven.  God gives us these moments to give us strength for the difficult times of the cross.  Remember them.

St. Boniface used the image of a ship to represent the Church.  all of you, when you come to church and sit in a pew, are sitting in what church architects call the nave.  Nave comes from the Latin word navis which means ship.  It’s where we get the word navy from.  As St. Boniface said the Church, the great ship, is being pounded by the waves.  The Church as an institution and each individual within is pounded by the waves of the cross.  But Jesus calls us to hold on!  He calls us never to be ashamed of the cross.  It has redeemed this world.  He tells us not to fear to suffer for the sake of justice.  He tells us not to lose confidence in the reward that He has promised.  He reminds us all today that the way to rest is through toil.  The way to life is through death. And if we are steadfast in our faith in Him and in our Love for Him and one another, we will win the victory He has won.  

Let us never jump ship, because this ship will take us to Heaven. 

Let us become great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Our first reading this morning comes from the Book of Deuteronomy.  Deuteronomy is the fifth book of the Old Testament.  It rehashes in a summary form the forty years that Israel spent in the desert after they had been freed from Egypt but before they entered into the Promised Land.  Before wandering in the desert for forty years Israel had been in Egypt for 430 years.  And in six short verses our first reading sums up what had happened in those years.

At the beginning the Jewish people enjoyed a place of privilege in Egypt, but for most of those 430 years they lived as slaves.  They were maltreated and oppressed.

But then Deuteronomy reminds us that God brought the Israelites out of slavery.  “With His strong right hand and outstretched arm, with terrifying power, with signs and wonders God freed the people.”  One day they had no life, no future, no hope, and the next day God rescued them and gave them a future, gave them hope, and gave them their lives.  And this wasn’t just a story that they read about; they lived it!  They saw the Red Sea split!  They ate the manna in the desert!   They experienced God rescuing them in a way that seemed impossible to dream of.  One day they were slaves and the next day they were free.

But then something happened.  And what happened can be summed up in two words, “They forgot!”  They forgot what had happened.  They forgot where they had been.  They forgot what God had done for them out of His great love.  They forgot His faithfulness.  They forgot His mercy.  They forgot that they owed everything to Him.  They forgot that all they had was a gift from Him.

And that brings us to the basket that we hear about in the first line.  “The priest shall receive the basket from you and shall set it in front of the altar of the Lord, your God.”  Moses tells the people that after they enter into the Promised Land, after the crops they plant bear fruit, they are to put the first fruits that grow in a basket and bring the basket and place it in front of the altar.  And the ultimate point of this gesture is to remember.  To call to mind that they have food, that they have land, that they have freedom, and that they are alive because God has chosen them as His very own.  We have our own basket too where our first fruits are offered, although these days it’s in the form of currency that we offer.

So what does all of this have to do with Lent?  The point of Lent in many ways is simply to remember.  The praying, the fasting, the Stations of the Cross, and Adoration of the Eucharist help us to remember, because like the Israelites we too can all too often forget all that God has done for us.   For many of us the temptation is to, either forget what God has done or to take it for granted.  Just as the Israelites forgot about their dramatic rescue from tyranny and oppression we can often let the cares and distractions of the day take our minds off of all that Jesus has done.

And so the Church offers us these 40 days to remember, to remember the details of the single most important event in the history of the world.  The Church calls us to remember, to think about, to pray with, and to stare at our Lord’s Passion, to take it all in – the agony in the garden, the scourging by the soldiers, the crowning with thorns, the ridicule and mockery that He endured, the carrying of the cross, the shedding of His blood, and finally His death on the cross, the price he paid – all so that you and I could be rescued not from some earthly tyrant like a Pharaoh, but from the devil, not from slavery to an earthly master, but from slavery to sin and death, and not so we could enter into an earthly Promised Land but heaven itself.  And all of this simply because he loves you.   St. Louis de Montfort once said that God brings into play more power and wisdom in leading a single soul to salvation than he used in creating the whole universe.  That’s Divine love.  I want to share a story I often told, I really like it.  It’s an analogy to help us remember that we were bought at great cost.  Our Lord gave his life for us, shedding every last drop of blood for us.

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!”

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 saving Passion of our Lord.

Let us be great Saints,

Rev. Christopher J. Ankley

 

 

From the Explanation on Ecclesiastes by St Gregory of Agrigentum
Come to the Lord and receive enlightenment

Light is sweet, says Ecclesiastes, at the sight of the sun the eyes are glad. Take away light, and the world is without beauty. Take away light and life itself is without life. Moses, a man who saw God, says God saw the light and said it was good. So it is right for us to contemplate the great, the true, the eternal light that enlightens every man that comes into the world – that is, Christ the savior and redeemer of the world, who was made man and lived the human condition to its very end. Of him the prophet David says in the Psalms,

Sing to the Lord and celebrate his name!

Make a road for him who rides upon the clouds –

“The Lord” is his name.

Rejoice in his sight!

He called the light sweet and foretold that it would be good to see with his own eyes the Sun of glory, he who as God-in-man said I am the light of the world. Anyone who follows me will not be walking in the dark: he will have the light of life. And again: This is the judgement, that light has come into the world. In this way he used the light of the sun, which we perceive with our eyes, as a prefiguration of the coming of the Sun of justice. That Sun was sweet indeed for those who were found worthy to be taught by him and to see him with their own eyes just like any other man. He was not just any man, he was also the true God, and this is why he made the blind see, the lame walk and the deaf hear, this is why he cleansed people afflicted with leprosy and by his sole command called the dead back to life.

Moreover, even now, in the present, it is a most sweet activity to look on him with the eyes of the spirit, to contemplate his divine beauty and ponder it in our hearts. Thus through communion and togetherness we are enlightened and adorned, our spirits filled with sweetness and we ourselves wrapped in holiness as in a cloak. We attain understanding and finally we are filled with exultation in God which will last all the days of this our present life. As the wise preacher Ecclesiastes said, However great the number of years that a man may live, let him enjoy them all. Obviously the Sun of justice makes all who gaze on him rejoice. As the prophet David says:

The righteous are glad and exult in God’s sight;

they rejoice in their gladness.

and

Rejoice in the Lord, you just: it is good for the upright to praise him.

A treatise on charity by St. Maximus the Confessor

Without love everything is in vain

Charity is a right attitude of mind which prefers nothing to the knowledge of God.  If a man possesses any strong attachment to the things of this earth, he cannot possess true charity.  For anyone who really loves God prefers to know and experience God rather than his creatures.  The whole set and longing of his mind is ever directed towards him.

For God is far superior to all his creation, since everything which exists has been made by God and for him.  And so, in deserting God, who is beyond compare, for the inferior works of creation, a man shows that he values God, the author of creation, less than creation itself.

The Lord himself reminds us:  Whoever loves me will keep my commandments.  And this is my commandment:  that you love one another.  So the man who does not love his neighbor does not obey God’s command.  But one who does not obey his command cannot love God.  A man is blessed if he can love all men equally.  Moreover, if he truly loves God, he must love his neighbor absolutely.  Such a man cannot hoard his wealth.  Rather, like God himself, he generously gives from his own resources to each man according to his needs.

Since he imitates God’s generosity, the only distinction he draws is the person’s need.  He does not distinguish between a good man and a bad one, just a man and one who is unjust.  Yet his own goodness of will makes him prefer the man who strives after virtue to the one who is depraved.

A charitable mind is not displayed simply in giving money, it is manifested still more by personal service as well as by the communication of God’s word to others:  In fact, if a man’s service towards his brothers is genuine and if he really renounces worldly concerns, he is freed from selfish desires.  For he now shares in God’s own knowledge and love.  Since he does possess God’s love, he does not experience weariness as he follows the Lord his God.  Rather, following the prophet Jeremiah, he withstands every type of reproach and hardship without even harboring an evil thought towards any man.

For Jeremiah warns us:  Do not say:  “We are the Lord’s temple.”  Neither should you say:  “Faith alone in our Lord Jesus Christ can save me.”  By itself faith accomplishes nothing.  For even the devils believe and shudder.

No, faith must be joined to an active love of God which is expressed in good works.  The charitable man is distinguished by sincere and long-suffering service to his fellow man:  it also means using things aright.

 

 

Dear Friends,

As many of you know I went to seminary in Boston.  I studied at what is now called St. John XXIII National Seminary.  Now Boston is home to some very beautiful churches.  In particular there’s one church I remember.  The name escapes me but what I do remember about it is its expertly restored stained glass windows.  They were stunning.  On one side of the nave there were seven windows with each one depicting a sacrament.  And at the bottom of each window there was a quote from scripture.  There was, however, a problem with one of the windows. The window illustrating the sacrament of penance always caused a bit of a scandal during the hot summer months.  Because during the summer the windows are opened making it impossible to see the whole scripture quote.  During the summer the sacrament of penance window reads, “Go and sin more.”  The word “No” is on the part of the window that’s folded down and out of sight.  It’s an unfortunate accident of art.

That phrase, “Go and sin more” is the message of the world.  The message of the world tells us to place all our trust in money, possessions, power, and pleasure.  The message that we read in the Gospel and our first reading of today, of course, is the exact opposite.  That message tells us to trust in God.  This is going to be a letter filled with questions and the first one is this; whom will you trust; God or the World?  I hope everyone reading this letter will choose to trust in God, but as we know the world can be a very tempting place and Jesus gives us the beatitudes to contemplate our life in the world.

In the beatitudes Jesus tells us, “Blessed are you who are poor.”  They are blessed who do not root their lives in money and material things.  So we ask ourselves.  How central is wealth to us?  Do we spend too much time thinking about making money?  Do we compare our wealth to that of others? Are we never satisfied with the amount of money we have?  How tenaciously do we hold onto money?  Do we tithe or give until it hurts just a little?

In the beatitudes Jesus tell us, “Blessed are you who are now hungry and blessed are you who are now weeping.”  They are blessed who do not root their lives in sensual pleasures.  Pleasures are a good but we don’t root our life in the constant pursuit of them.  So we ask ourselves.  How much of our budget is given to pleasure?  How do we react when life becomes painful?  Do we go to God?  Do we shrink away from doing things we know we should, but don’t, because they’re painful?

In the beatitudes Jesus tell us, “Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude and insult you, and denounce your name as evil on the account of the Son of Man.”  They are blessed who don’t put their faith in the approval of others.  How concerned are we about what others think of us?  Do we crave the honor, the glory and the attention of others?  Are we bothered when we are passed over for an honor?  Are we bothered when someone gets more attention?  Are we more concerned about what others think rather than what God thinks?

This has been a letter of twenty questions and I end with just two more, but I also give the answer.  What does life look like when we put our faith and trust in something other than God?  Jeremiah tells us it looks like a barren bush in the desert.  It is dried up.  It has no vitality and enjoys no change of the season.  That bush, a stunted tree, is rooted in power, money, possessions, and pleasure.  It bears no fruit.  And the last question, what does life look like when we put our faith and trust in God?  Jeremiah tells us it looks like a tree planted beside the waters where there is no fear of drought.  A tree rooted in God has roots that go down deep to where the water is plentiful.  Drought and heat will always come into our lives, we can’t escape it, but when we live the beatitudes, when we are rooted in the Lord we are still fruitful even in the midst of trials.

Let us be great Saints,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley