Category: Pastor’s Corner

Dear Friends,
Dietrich Bonhoeffer was born in Breslau, Germany on February 4th in 1906. He was a vocal opponent of the Nazi party. Dietrich Bonhoef-fer began a promising career as a theologian and Lutheran pastor at the University of Berlin in 1931. The political events occurring in Ger-many in the early 1930s, however, soon brought about many profound changes in his life. Bonhoeffer’s opposition to the Nazi party led to his decision to abandon his academic career when Hitler came to power in 1933. He had a bright career ahead of him. He was an intellec-tual in the Lutheran Church but he was beginning to see the face of Jesus in the people being killed by the Nazis and he had to do something.
Hitler’s subsequent policies led to divisions in the German Lutheran Church, and Bonhoeffer became an active member of the Confessing Church that was formed in opposition to Hitler’s totalitarian government. This Church commissioned Bonhoeffer to direct one of the under-ground seminaries that were established for the training of young pastors. The seminary was eventually closed by the Nazis in 1937.
The late 1930s brought further changes for Bonhoeffer. As the German war operation expanded, he was drawn more and more into active opposition against Hitler’s government. Convinced of the righteousness of the course, he eventually became involved in a conspiracy to overthrow Hitler. He was arrested by the Gestapo on April 5, 1943, and spent the next two years in prison. Another attempt to overthrow Hitler in 1945 led to the execution of a number of political prisoners only weeks before the end of the war. Bonhoeffer, only thirty-nine years old at the time, was among them. He was executed by hanging just twenty three days before the Nazi surrender.
A camp doctor who witnessed the execution wrote: “I saw pastor Bonhoeffer…kneeling on the floor praying fervently to God. I was most deeply moved by the way this man prayed, so devout and so certain that God heard his prayer. At the place of execution, he again said a short prayer and then climbed the few steps to the gallows, brave and composed. Now one of the last things that Bonhoeffer was heard to have said was, “This is the end…for me the beginning of life.” “This is the end…for me the beginning of life.”
Bonhoeffer was stating a truth. Our true citizenship awaits us in heaven. We are made for Heaven and life here on earth is but an infinitesi-mal part of our life compared to the eternity that waits. So why do we spend so much of our time, 99% of our time probably, focused on the mundane things of this world? St. Paul in the second reading states that Jesus is the one who descended. As we know that descent began with the Annunciation which we celebrated not long ago. Our Lord descended and became human to make visible the invisible love of God. He descended to become a model of holiness. He descended to make us partakers of the divine nature to deify us to elevate our own human nature into God’s own life. Our nature needed to be healed, it was fallen and needed to be raised, and it was dead and needed to rise. We had lost the possession of the good, we had lost heaven, and it was necessary for heaven to be given back to us. And from the moment of our Lord’s incarnation we see him setting things right, restoring humanity to the dignity that we had lost, and even elevating us beyond our original state. God became man so that we might be able to live with God forever in Heaven.
Now St. Paul goes on to say in the second reading that the one who descended is also the one who ascended. Christ brings the human to the divine. What is earthly is intimately wedded to what is heavenly. The king who first came down from heaven, who died, and who rose to life again, has returned triumphantly to heaven, carrying with him his sacred humanity, to take his seat at the right hand of the Father. When Christ ascended into heaven, he took humanity with him. And where he has gone, we hope to follow, for he had gone to prepare a place for us.
Now before ascending Jesus gave us some instructions. He told us to go into the world and to proclaim the Gospel to every creature. And to proclaim the Gospel means keeping the focus on Heaven. There is a paradox that comes with hoping and straining towards Heaven. And it’s this, the more we focus on the Heavenly life to come the more dedicated we become to this world. The more we look towards heaven the more concerned we become with the sufferings and sorrows of other. We have only to look at people such as Pope St. John Paul II, St. Theresa of Calcutta, and St. Damien of Molokai to name just a few to see that this is true. They kept their eyes fixed on Heaven and in do-ing so they made a huge difference here on earth. The ways of Heaven through their actions invaded the ways of Earth. And every time we perform those works of mercy, the ways of Heaven invade the ways of earth. God uses us to bring Heaven to earth.
Pope Benedict once wrote that to focus on Heaven is to focus on Jesus Christ. Because Heaven is a person and it’s Jesus himself what we call Heaven. Keep your eyes on Jesus as Sister Mary so many times told me, as she punched me in the arm. I guess it was the punch in the arm made the message stick.
My prayer for us today is that we always keep our eyes on Jesus and in doing so we proclaim the Gospel with our every word and action. So that through us the ways of Heaven invade the ways the earth. So that when people look at us they know that we are truly citizens of Heaven. And on our death bed may we say: “This is the end…for me the beginning of life.”
Peace and all good,
Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,
As a seminarian I regularly visited a couple of nursing homes, I visited Saint Patrick’s Manor and I
visited the Lutheran Netherland home. It was at this second place, the Lutheran Netherland Home, that I visited a woman by the name of Firminia, and she was neither Dutch nor Lutheran. She was a Portuguese Catholic and she was 105 years old. Firminia was born in Portugal where there wasn’t much opportunity, so after marrying she and her husband immigrated to the USA. They landed in Boston and began to live the American dream. This was back in the 1920s.
Firminia and her husband quickly added four children to their family. Their son Johnnie came of age at the time of World War II. And Johnnie, like many of the young men of his generation, felt it was his patriotic duty to enlist into the army. And he did. His mom did not want him to go, however. She had already left Europe. And she had left for good. She didn’t want her son going there. Once overseas Johnnie experienced the terrors of war and in battle, he was lost very quickly. He was killed by enemy fire within a very short time of setting foot on the continent of Europe.
As you can imagine Firminia was heartsick for her dead son. He was gone, taken from her at such a young age. Firminia would never see him marry and never see him have children of his own. There wouldn’t be any grandchildren from her son Johnnie. And then about a month or so after his death a letter from an insurance company arrived in Firminia’s mailbox. It contained a check; and the letter accompanying the check stated that she was the recipient of her son’s insurance policy. Before going overseas to Europe, on an impulse Johnnie had taken out an insurance policy in case he should die. On this insurance policy he named his mother, Firminia, as the beneficiary. She was surprised. She hadn’t expected this and it brought about another wave of sorrow and she started crying. She didn’t know that more checks were to follow. Every month year after year Firminia received a check from this insurance com-pany. She received these checks every month for 64 years. Until she died she received a monthly check and whenever a check would come, if someone was present she would say, “My son Johnnie still takes care of me. Even though he’s been gone all these years he still takes care of me, I still feel his presence.” Her sorrow had been replaced by joy.
Jesus promised not to leave us alone. “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate to be with you always.” He promised to send us the advocate, to send us the Spirit of Truth. “He will remain with you, and will be in you. I will not leave you orphans.” He promised to continue to take care of us and to be present with and within us. Leading us to truth, strengthening us and giving us the courage to say yes to God’s will. From the catechism we have this; Jesus came to us to give us the Spirit, and by the Spirit we come to share God’s life. This is the Catholic understanding of grace: it is a sharing in divine life. “As fire transforms into itself everything it touches, so the Holy Spirit transforms into the divine life whatever is subjected to his power.”
At the seminary before every class one of my teachers, Fr. Moriarty, would begin each class with the short prayer, “Come Holy Spirit!” Whether he said it for himself or for us, I’m not sure. But it’s a good prayer to always have on our lips and in our minds. It’s a good prayer to begin each day. Praying it in those difficult moments when we are in need of heavenly aid, when we are in need of the right words and the right actions in our home, our place of work, or school.
Saint Hilary a fourth century bishop and Doctor of the Church once wrote this about the Holy Spirit (It’s so good); “We receive the Spirit of truth, he wrote, so that we can know the things of God. He then used the example of our eyes, ours ears, and our nose in order to explain the Holy Spirit and the Spirit’s relationship to our soul. The eye does not work without light, the ear does not work without sound, and the nose does not work without a scent to smell. Our organs of sense need light, and sound, and odor in order to work properly. And it’s the same with the human soul. Unless the soul absorbs the gift of the Spirit through faith, the mind won’t have the ability to know God it would lack the grace necessary for that knowledge.
This unique gift which is in Christ is offered in its fullness to everyone. It is everywhere available, but it’s given to each person in proportion to his or her readiness to receive it. The more we desire the more we receive.
Firminia received a monthly gift from her son. This gift supported her and gave her comfort and security. How much more and in a more real way does the gift of the Holy Spirit support us giving us wisdom, understanding, counsel, fortitude, knowledge, piety, and fear of the Lord. Never neglect the gift of the Holy Spirit, let these words always be on our lips, “Come Holy Spirit Come!”
Pax et Bonum,
Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

It’s been just over thirteen years now since the death of Pope Saint John Paul II. He died on the vigil of Divine Mercy Sunday. For twenty-seven years he guided the Church and historians say that he was instrumental in the downfall of communism. With vigor and zeal he brought the Gospel message to all the populated continents of the world. But to understand this great pope we have to understand the world in which he grew up. Poland is a nation that’s suffered greatly through the centuries. Not once, but twice, it was obliterated from the map of Europe. No sooner was the world recovering from the horror of the First World War, when it was then plunged into the horror of the Second World War. Poland was home to many concentration camps and communism tried to instill itself into its very core.

This is the world into which St. John Paul was born and raised. Communists might try to overpower the nation, but it would never take Poland’s
faith. This faith carried the people through a most terrible of times. In 1905 it was into this same world that St. Faustina was born. The
experiences of our Holy Father were most surely the same experiences of this simple, Polish nun.

Born in Lodz, Poland Faustina or Helena as she was known then first felt the call to religious life at the age of seven while praying before the
Blessed Sacrament. At the age of nineteen she moved to Warsaw to join a religious community. She did no research she just got on a train
and went to Warsaw. She had no money. She visited different convents trying to see who would take her. She was rejected many times, but
eventually the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy decided to give her a chance, provided she could pay for her own habit.

At this convent Helena did the cooking, the cleaning, and the gardening. After a year she was formally accepted and she took the name Maria
Faustina of the Blessed Sacrament. The name Faustina means fortunate or blessed one. In February of 1931 she had her first vision of Jesus.
He appeared to her as the King of Divine Mercy, wearing a white garment with rays of white and red light emanating from his wounded heart.
Our Lord told her that she was to have an image painted according to this pattern with the inscription: “Jesus I trust in you.” She was also to
make known to the world that God’s mercy is unfathomable and unlimited and that the first Sunday after Easter is to be the Feast of Mercy.
Divine Mercy Sunday.

A nun for just over ten years Saint Faustina died in 1938 at the age of thirty-three. She was to be the first saint canonized in the 21st century
and at the Mass of Canonization St. Pope John Paul stated that: “By Divine Providence, the life of this humble daughter of Poland was
completely linked with the history of the twentieth century. In fact, it was between the First and Second World Wars, that Christ entrusted
His message to her. Those who remember, who were witnesses and participants in the events of those years, and the horrible
sufferings they caused for millions of people, know well how necessary was this message of mercy.”

As we look at the world around us, we are living through some of the same realities that have gone on before us: war, terrorism, tragedies, and
famine. The feeling of insecurity within us and around us is still very real. And, yet this also is a time of mercy. Mercy is a part of our faith
and the rays of God’s mercy are what give us hope. And the role of St. Faustina was simply to draw attention, in a very spectacular way, to the
truth that God is the God of Mercy, and, that Jesus Christ is our merciful Savior.

In today’s Gospel, Jesus appears to the disciple in the room where they were hiding in fear for their lives, and he greets them with the words,
“Peace be with you.” Not only are they filled with fear, but they are also filled with shame and guilt, for they recognize their sin in the presence
of the Risen Lord. They had abandoned him but Jesus doesn’t take the opportunity to scold or condemn them. Instead he greets them
with peace. This is the mercy of the Risen Jesus. At the very moment that the Apostles are supremely conscious of their weakness, when they
are filled with shame and guilt, this is the very same moment that Jesus chooses to communicate, his power, to communicate his mercy, and to
communicate his love. This is exactly what happens in the Sacrament of Reconciliation; we come to the Lord with our sins; he shows us his
mercy, and he gives us his peace.

Today, we celebrate Divine Mercy Sunday. And to put it simply divine mercy is God’s love for us in the face of our weakness; God’s love as
it comes in to contact with our sins, obliterating them; Divine Mercy is God’s love as it reaches down and touches our needs. And such a great
gift requires three responses on our part. The first is gratitude, we thank him always. The second is trust, we trust God in everything. And
third, if we have received mercy, then we must show mercy. If we have been forgiven then we must forgive. There is no other way.
We are living in a world that so desperately needs the mercy of God. The face of suffering that St. John Paul and St. Faustina witnessed is still
seen today. But we are a people of hope. The same faith that sustained countless numbers of our fellow human beings throughout history is
the same faith that brings us together today. The wounds borne by Christ risen and glorified are visible signs of suffering and death. And
these visible signs of suffering and death have been transformed into channels through which the grace of God flows out to lift the world from
darkness to light. And this is the message of divine mercy.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

While in the seminary I and a few friends went to a Ukrainian Rite Catholic Mass. Ukrainian Rite Catholics are in communion with the Pope so we are free to attend Mass at their churches. All the prayers and hymns were in Ukrainian. There was lots of incense, bells were rung many times and the priest celebrated Mass with his back to us. After Mass we were invited to the basement for coffee and donuts. The Priest and the tiny community couldn’t have been more friendly or welcoming. What I remember most about that Mass was communion time. The altar bread they used for consecration was cut into tiny little cubes. And when we went up to receive communion the priest gave us communion on a tiny spoon. After placing the body of Christ into the precious blood we received the Eucharist on that tiny spoon by tilting our heads back and opening our mouths wide. And the priest placed the Eucharist into our mouth. Walking back to the pew I couldn’t help but think about how baby birds open their mouths in the very same way when they are being fed. And so back at my pew I meditated on that. And maybe that’s weird, or maybe not. After all, our Lord is sometimes represented by the symbol of a Pelican. We have one on our tabernacle. The pelican is always shown surrounded by its babies. Ancient men and women once thought that in times of famine when food was scarce pelicans would pick at their breasts until they bled. The blood was then used to feed the hungry babies. So we can see how the pelican came to represent Christ who feeds us with his blood, who fills us with his precious blood.

Now what made me think of baby birds as I was walking back to my pew in that Ukrainian church was a pair of barn swallows that would build their nest every summer on the lamp next to our front door. They were very messy and my mom always threatened to knock the nest down, babies and all. But I always promised to clean up after them. And I eventually did. As a youngster I was very fascinated by this little family of birds I’d watch them unseen from the window for long stretches of time. And one thing I noticed about those baby birds was the size of their mouths. They were huge, and when they were opened up wide, compared to the rest of the body the mouth was greatly out of proportion. And to look into those mouths was to see a whole lot of emptiness just waiting to be filled.

Now our goal during these forty days of lent is to open ourselves up wide, and to empty ourselves of any sinful disorder so that we can be filled by our Lord, we want to create a whole lot of emptiness so that we can be filled by our Lord’s grace. Now we are at the beginning of this forty day period and last week someone asked, “Why forty days in Lent?” When we look at the number forty we see it repeated often in scripture. It rained for forty days and forty nights. Moses was up on Mount Sinai receiving the Ten Commandments for forty days. The Israelites wandered around the desert for forty years. All of these forties are a necessary and not so comfortable prelude
preparing for something new to take place.

It’s very interesting that it takes forty weeks for a baby to develop. It takes forty weeks before new life can emerge from the womb. In Noah’s case it’s the rebirth of a sinful world that had been cleansed by the raging flood waters. In Moses’ case it was the birth of the people of the covenant. For the nomadic Israelites it was the start of a new and settled existence in the Promised Land. And for Jesus his forty days in the desert prepared him for his public ministry of proclaiming the Gospel of New life with our Father in Heaven. A new life reconciled from sin.

Jesus went into the waste of the desert to make it once again a garden of paradise. Our first parents, Adam and Eve, once lived in that garden but their sin took that garden from them and turned it into the desert, a desert with hatred, division, violence, and a lack of love. But Jesus came and went into that desert to make it a garden again. From the very beginning God intended a garden for all of us he intended for us a life in the good, a life in the right, and a life lived in justice. He intended a rich garden for every one of us. A remnant of that Garden, the good that God created, was saved on the Ark but our Lord now is the definitive Ark. In his person creation is remade in his image. The wild beast and the angel the bodily and the spiritual are joined together anew.

St. Athanasius once wrote that, “God became man so that men might be made God.” God had divinized us by uniting us with Christ in baptism. Just as Jesus took on our human flesh, so it is God’s plan that we humans would take on Jesus’ divine likeness. This doesn’t mean we become little gods, it means that God’s Holy Spirit can transform us can transform us so much that we begin to think and act, to live and to love just as Jesus did. When Jesus took on human nature, he not only lowered himself to become like us; he also raised us up to become like him.

So during these forty days we sit with Jesus in prayer, we go to him in the Sacraments and we fast from whatever distracts us we fast from whatever makes our soul a desert. We fast from judging, gossiping, anger, bitterness we fast from whatever distracts us from God so that we create a whole lot of emptiness and longing within our soul, opening ourselves up wide to be filled with God’s garden of grace and power. To be filled with God’s own life.

Pax et Bonum,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In Scotland in the 1600s Catholics were persecuted, both priests and laity had to flee the country or go
into hiding to avoid imprisonment or even death. One day a Bishop wanted to explore his diocese to see who was left of
his flock, and to see how they were faring. And so there he was walking from village to village in the mountains, dressed
like a poor farmer to escape capture. It was winter, and as the sun went down he became lost among the snow covered
hills. Almost exhausted with wandering, he finally saw a dim light in the distance, and made his way towards it. It was a
poor cottage on the edge of the woods; he knocked on the door. The family welcomed him, warmed him at their fire, and
prepared him some food. They were extremely kind and hospitable, and as he ate their delicious food, they conversed politely
and pleasantly. He didn’t see any crucifix or image of Mary in the house, so he concluded they weren’t Catholic. He
didn’t bring up the topic of religion.

As the Bishop sat there he noticed that the family seemed sad underneath their good-natured hospitality. And so he asked
about this, and the mother explained that in the back room, on a bed of straw her father lay dying, but he refused to admit it,
and so he was not preparing himself well for death. The visitor offered to speak with him, and he was led to the back room.
Sure enough, the old man lay there, feeble and clearly dying. The bishop offered words of sympathy, but the old man
seemed to regain strength and said, “No sir, I am not yet going to die. That is impossible.” The disguised bishop asked
why he was so sure, and after hemming and hawing, the old man asked quietly if the visitor was Catholic.

Assured that he was, the dying man gave this explanation. “I also am a Catholic. From the day of my first Communion
until now I have never failed even for a single day to pray to Our Blessed Lady for the grace of not dying without first having
a priest at my bedside to hear my confession and give me the Last Sacraments.” “Now sir, do you think that my heavenly
Mother will not hear me? Impossible! So I am not going to die till some priest comes to visit me.” Tears rolled down
the bishop’s face as he realized that he was God’s faithful answer to this man’s humble and confident prayer. This dying
man in the presence of God’s representative was an example of humility and confidence. He spent his whole life in humble
confidence before God.

Our leper today in the Gospel is also an example of humility and confidence; in fact, he’s very confident. He rushes to Jesus
without even shouting out that he’s unclean. To the first century Jew this would be seen as an act of aggression. Any
leper of that time was to avoid society and if someone inadvertently approached a leper, the leper was to warn him by
shouting, “unclean, unclean!” Yet this leper sees something in Jesus, he sees something extraordinary, he sees the person
where divinity and humanity meet. And so in confident humility he kneels before Jesus asking to be made clean. He says,
“if you wish, you can make me clean.” He appeals to the will of Jesus just like any Israelite would appeal to the will of
God. The leper is confident that this is God standing in front of him.

Now like the old man and the leper we too want to grow in confident humility before God. And there are three things that
we can practice in order to grow in humility and confidence. First, thank God at the end of every day. Focus on the gifts
he’s given throughout the day, and throughout your life. Thank Him for opportunities, for friendships, and for graces. Doing
this we put everything into proper perspective, gratitude reminds us of God’s unbounded goodness, and of our childlike
dependence on Him. Second, be the first to say sorry. Conflicts between two people are almost always the fault of both
people involved, at least a little bit. When we take the first step to make peace, we are following in the footsteps of Christ
himself. And third, go to the sacrament of confession. This is the best exercise because it was invented by God himself.
Confession is the perfect imitation of the leper’s encounter with Jesus. Everything the leper did, we do, every time we go
to confession. We kneel there asking to be made clean.

As sinners we are meant to approach Jesus with confidence. Jesus doesn’t step back when we approach in our sinfulness,
he’s moved with pity and he stretches out his hand to heal us. The Church is the mystical body of Christ it’s the extension
of Christ’s incarnation into our space and time and through the sacraments our Lord’s hand still reaches out to heal us. Let
us always humbly and repeatedly approach Him without fear.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

Every fall the Kalamazoo Diocese holds a priestly convocation. This is a meeting of all the priests of our diocese
and the Bishop. The meeting is usually held in Cadillac or at a retreat center. These meetings are used to help us learn where speakers
are invited in to teach. These meetings also help the priests and Bishop to better know one another and to build fraternity. And there’s
always good food.

I went to my first convocation soon after my ordination. I had a great time, mostly. As is the custom in this Diocese the newly ordained
is usually the main celebrant for one of the daily Masses during the week. No pressure there, you’re preaching to the Bishop and
fifty other seasoned priests. I had a month and a half of experience under my belt, no problem. On my day to preside, it was the feast
of St. Pio and in my homily I talked about St. Pio and how he was a good role model. No one could disagree with that. The homily
went fine there were a few smiles and a few laughs at the appropriate times. And there were no grimaces or scowls, so far so good.

When I got to the prayers of the faithful, however, I realized that I’d forgotten them in my room. I was in a panic for a second, but
that’s ok, I said a quick prayer to the Holy Spirit and made up the prayers on the spot. They were fine they didn’t sound too weird. The
Mass was going beautifully, the Bishop was smiling.

Now there’s a saying I learned in seminary, “The only perfect liturgy is in Heaven.” And there’s a good reason for this saying. Because
after finishing the Consecration, not mispronouncing a single word, something awful happened, something I never would have
imagined. In all the scenarios of what could go wrong I never imagined this. The altar collapsed. I don’t know why it fell but it did.
And the precious blood spilled everywhere. This was after the consecration it was no longer wine. Fortunately there were a couple of
priests with very quick reflexes in the front row. They along with me grabbed the chalices before they rolled off the altar. Fortunately
no Precious Blood spilled to the floor. All was contained to the altar linens and my chasuble.

This incident, awful as it was, made all the more poignant the message, “His blood was poured out for our offenses.” I saw it pour out;
I saw it spill, right before my eyes. In great art we sometimes see Angels depicted with chalices catching our Crucified Lord’s blood.
That thought sometimes goes through my mind as I elevate the chalice filled with his blood. “I’ve captured your blood Lord, it didn’t
fall wasted to the ground.” This blood was shed for our benefit; his heart was pierced for our benefit. In John’s gospel we read, “One
soldier thrust his lance into his side, and immediately blood and water flowed out.” This lance was thrust right into the heart of Jesus.
In our beautiful crucifix we see that wound at his side. That water that flowed out represents baptism and that blood that flowed out
represents the Eucharist, sacraments that strengthen and heal. It’s from the Cross that the healings flow.

In today’s Gospel we read that Jesus heals Peter’s mother-in-law. “He approached, grasped her hand, and helped her up.” He approached,
God is always after us, he’s always approaching us. Never think for a moment that he’s not reaching out for you. God always
initiates and it’s always a loving action that he initiates. From that heart that was pierced flows the love of God.

We next read that Jesus grasped her hand and helped her up. Jesus is still doing that, when we approach the Eucharist he in a very real
way is grasping us. Are we reaching out to grasp his hand as the mother-in-law did? Are we reaching out to be healed? Every time we
come to Mass every time before we walk down these aisles we say something important. We say, “Lord I am not worthy that you
should enter under my roof, but only say the word and my soul shall be healed.” Are we asking to be healed as we come down the aisle
to receive the Eucharist, are we asking to be healed of traumatic memories, are we asking to be healed of strained relationships, are we
asking to be healed of anxieties, and ailments? Are we asking to be healed of whatever is troubling our soul?

Every Mass allows us to take part in the onetime bloody sacrifice of Christ on Calvary. The Mass allows this participation, as if in a
time machine, in an unbloody manner we are there on Calvary for His passion when his Heart was pierced out of love for us. All the
good works in the world are not equal to the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass because they are the works of men and women; but the Mass is
the Work of God. It is the sacrifice of God for us. When we look at a crucifix we see the true intention of God, it’s not about himself,
it’s not about God, it’s about you and me.

As you come down the aisle for Communion asked Jesus to heal you in whatever way you need healing. His heart was wounded so that
we might gain entrance into his heart, His heart was wounded so that we might receive his healing blood, and His heart was wounded to
give us his all. Ask for healing at this Mass and every Mass.

Peace and all good,

Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

As we read in today’s Gospel the people in the synagogue were astonished. They were astonished because Jesus speaks to them as one having authority. He doesn’t repeat the words of an Old Testament prophet and he doesn’t refer to an older respected teacher. This poor carpenter out of Nazareth claims his own authority. Sometimes this word authority is translated as the word power. He speaks as one having power. And the original word from which we translate into either authority or power is dynamis. Our Lord speaks with dynamis. This is where the word dynamite comes from. So maybe we could even say our Lord speaks with the power of dynamite, it’s no wonder the people sitting in that synagogue were astonished. His words shook them out of their complacency.

Now as we read there was a man possessed by an unclean spirit but with just five words our Lord exorcises the unclean spirit and the man is freed. “Quiet! Come out of him!” His words have the power to exorcise. There’s an exorcist in Rome by the name of Fr. Amorth and he’s successfully conducted hundreds of exorcisms. But even with this experience of success he will always tell people, “One well done confession is more powerful than ten exorcisms!” An exorcism is a sacramental while confession is a sacrament, a sacrament where our Lord’s voice speaks to us. You may hear the sound of a priest saying the words of absolution buts it’s our Lord, with the power of dynamite, who’s speaking to us.

Once in a letter to a missionary priest, St. Therese of Lisieux wrote about the sacrament of confession. And she used the example of two small guilty boys. Have you noticed that in these examples of guilt it’s always the boys that are bad? So in this story the father comes home to find that his two sons have been disobedient. They’ve caused some sort of ruckus in the home. They’ve been fighting, they’ve been destructive, they’ve done something, and both sons in their heart of hearts know that they probably deserve punishment. We’ve all been there. Now the first son, as soon as he sees his father, runs in the opposite direction trying to get as far away as possible from his father. This first son is filled with fear and trembling.

Now the second son is much more crafty, but crafty in the right way. This second son throws himself into his father’s arms telling him that he is sorry to have hurt him, that he loves him, and that he will prove it by being good from now on. And for punishment he only asks for a kiss. Of course the son’s love has to be genuine, with a real desire to behave better. And the father is wise because he knows that his little son will fall into the same faults again and again and again, but he’s ready to forgive him every time, if his son catches him by the heart, he forgives. We too should catch our heavenly Father by the heart, and we do that just by entering the door to the confessional. We capture our Father’s heart, drawing down his forgiveness and grace.

Confession when it’s done well, properly and with the right attitude of repentance is a privileged means for helping us to rediscover God’s real face, his infinite love, his forgiveness, his generosity, and his unbelievable patience towards us. Entering the door into the confessional we capture our Father’s heart. We capture it by telling him that I have truly sinned, telling him my heart was hard, telling him I was proud and I despised my neighbor, telling him I sought my own pleasure at other people’s expense, and above all telling him I had forgotten all about Him, the one I should love most of all. When we do this we capture our Father’s heart and he forgives; with a new outpouring of his love. It gives him great pleasure to forgive us. Each confession is a little Pentecost, an outpouring of the Holy Spirit, a kiss of the Divine.

Now some critics of St. Therese would say that her great trust in God’s forgiveness was because she had hardly committed any sins. But she responded saying even if I had committed every sin possible I would still have that same trust. All that multitude of sins would only be like a drop of water falling into a blazing furnace. I trust in God not in myself.

Our Lord still speaks to us with the power of dynamite. We hear him in Scripture, we hear him during the consecration, and we hear him in all the sacraments. In the sacrament of confession it may sound like me but it’s His voice saying to you those sweet powerful words, “I absolve you from your sins.”

Peace and all good,
Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

From a letter to the Corinthians by Saint Clement I, Pope

Who can express the binding power of divine love?

Let the man truly possessed by the love of Christ keep his commandments. Who can express the binding power of divine love? Who can find words for the splendor of its beauty? Beyond all description are the heights to which it lifts us. Love unites us to God; it cancels innumerable sins, has no limits to its endurance, bears everything patiently. Love is neither servile nor arrogant. It does
not provoke schisms or form cliques, but always acts in harmony with others. By it all God’s chosen ones have been sanctified; without it, it is impossible to please him. Out of love the Lord took us to himself; because he love us and it was God’s will, our Lord Jesus Christ gave his life’s blood for us — he gave his body for our body, his soul for our soul.

See then, beloved, what a great and wonderful thing love is, and how inexpressible its perfection. Who are worthy to possess it unless God makes them so? To him therefore we must turn, begging of his mercy that there may be found in us a love free from human partiality and beyond reproach. Every generation from Adam’s time to ours has passed away, but those who by God’s grace
were made perfect in love have a dwelling now among the saints, and when at last the kingdom of Christ appears, they will be revealed. Take shelter in your rooms for a little while, says Scripture, until my wrath subsides. Then I will remember the good days, and will raise you from your graves.

Happy are we, beloved, if love enables us to live in harmony and in the observance of God’s commandments, for then it will also gain for us the remission of our sins. Scripture pronounces happy those whose transgressions are pardoned, whose sins are forgiven. Happy the man, it says, to whom the Lord imputes no fault, on whose lips there is no  guile. This is the blessing given those whom God has chosen through Jesus Christ our Lord. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Dear Friends,

In our first reading we heard that Samuel was sleeping in the temple and today I have a story about a man who also slept while the Lord called to him, in fact spiritually speaking he slept most of his life. His name was Andreas Wouters he was a Dutchman living in 16th century Holland during the Protestant Reformation. Andreas was a priest, but he wasn’t a very good priest. He caused a great deal of scandal. He was a drunkard and a prolific womanizer, fathering many children. Not a good role model. Needless to say the Bishop suspended him from actively serving as a priest. He lived in disgrace.

At that time, June of 1572, Andreas was living in a sea side town by the name of Gorkum. And during that month a band of Dutch pirates captured the town. They had no love for the Catholic Church and so they rounded up all the priests, they captured 18. The pirates had plans of torturing and killing them. The pirates ignored Andreas and given his history he should have run as far away as possible. But he didn’t, he woke up, he woke up to the call of the Holy Spirit. He went to his brother priests where they were being held and he volunteered to join them. The pirates were amazed; they took him in and put him with the other priests.

The 19 priests were tortured and subjected to every type of humiliation and mockery, especially Andreas who was constantly reminded of what a disgrace he was. At the very end all the priests were given a choice, they could save themselves if they would renounce their belief in Papal Supremacy and the Eucharistic Real Presence. All of them refused. So on July 9, 1572 all 19 priests were hanged. Andreas was saved for last and as the noose was being fastened around his neck, his captors kept mocking him. They mocked him to the very end. His last words before entering into eternity were, “Fornicator I always was, but heretic I never was!” The martyrs of Gorkum were canonized by Pope Pius IX in 1865. St. Andreas Wouters woke up and gave great witness and glory to God.

Now as we heard in the 1st reading Samuel was asleep in the Temple, and to read this in the spiritual sense this is a sign of trouble. To be asleep in the presence of the Lord is never a good thing. Think of the 3 disciples who slept in the garden while our Lord prayed. He asked them, “Could you not stay awake for even one hour?”

Now at the time of our first reading Eli was the chief priest of the Temple in Shilo, this was before the time of the Temple in Jerusalem, it hadn’t been built yet. In this Shilo Temple the Ark of the Covenant was housed. Eli was not the best of priests, he was lazy, unfocused, and a bad supervisor of his sons Phineas and Hoffney who were also bad priests. Eli was indifferent to what his corrupt sons were doing. His sons abused the priesthood taking advantage of the people in their care. And it’s in this atmosphere that Samuel sleeps. And so the Lord called to Samuel 4 times and at that last call Samuel finally says “Speak Lord for your servant is listening.” His eyes were wide open; he’s awake to the ways of the Lord. Meaning he was ready to do the will of God. And he did, serving as a prophet to the people of Israel.

So what about us? Where are we asleep to the Lord’s presence, a presence that calls to us. Where do we not recognize his presence? Because he is there! Is it a temptation that we just can’t seem to overcome, an addiction, a place of shame, or maybe it’s a relationship we just can’t seem to mend, a loss, any suffering we don’t bring to him, or maybe we just don’t think God is there for us. Spiritual theologians will sometimes say that these are our places of poverty. And it’s in these places exactly that our Lord calls to us, because he knows we can’t do it on our own. He meets us in our poverty. And so we pray to be open to hearing our Lord in these places. But it sometimes requires patience on our part and making time for quiet prayer every day. God overcame the barriers of Samuel and St. Andreas. He can overcome ours. The saints, the martyrs, Samuel and St. Andreas came to know that God is always with them.

Let us pray to have that same awareness, to be awake to this reality. Our Lord meets us in the poverty of the crib, the poverty of the cross, the poverty of the altar, and our own poverty. And in all these places he brings the riches of His healing and consoling Grace, let us be humble enough to receive.

Peace and all good,
Fr. Christopher J. Ankley

Dear Friends,

In Rome, in St. Peter’s Square, there stands an ancient Egyptian obelisk, a single block of granite in the shape of the Washington monument, it’s almost 100 feet high and it weighs 330 tons. It’s the oldest obelisk in Rome, dating back to 1850 BC. At that time it had been erected as a monument to the Pharaoh, and it stood for over two thousand years of Egyptian history. That obelisk was standing when Abraham was called; it was standing when Joseph the son of Jacob was viceroy of Egypt, and it was standing when Moses led his people out of Egypt.

At the time of Jesus’ birth and not long after the Magi came to worship him, the Roman Emperor Caligula brought the obelisk to Rome as a sign of Rome’s superiority over the conquered Egypt. And there in Rome it stood for four more centuries, it stood as a symbol of the Roman Empire, the largest empire in human history. A golden urn with Julius Caesar’s ashes was once placed on top of it. It stood in the arena where St. Peter himself was martyred, along with countless other early Christians. Then the barbarians invaded Rome, and Rome decayed, in the Middle Ages the obelisk fell. Weeds and vines grew all around it. It was half-buried near the old St. Peter’s Basilica.

But then with time, the Church converted the barbarians, and a new Christian culture emerged and flourished, and St. Peter’s Basilica was rebuilt and expanded, Pope Sixtus V had the obelisk re-erected in the center of the square, where it now stands. It’s no longer a reminder of the long-gone empires of Egypt or Rome. The obelisk is now topped with a bronze cross, containing within it a small fragment of the True Cross. It’s now a symbol of the universal and eternal Kingdom of Christ to which men and women of all times and all places are called.

In today’s Gospel we hear the call of the Magi, they represent the Gentile nations, and they too are called to this everlasting kingdom. The Magi were basically the scientists of the ancient world. They rationally and logically studied philosophy, medicine, and the natural world, including the stars. They were the scholars and professors of their time. But instead of working in universities, they worked for kings. A king would finance his own group of magi, using them as consultants and translators, and to also enhance his kingdom’s reputation. It was only the best of kingdoms that had the smartest magi. These magi to the East, very learned men, had no doubt heard of the Hebrew prophesies of a star signaling the birth of a King. And tempted to know the God of Israel they looked to the sky for signs of a divine “King of the Jews.”

Now much has been written about the star the Magi followed. And there is verifiable proof of major stellar events taking place at that time in those years around the birth of Christ. Halley’s Comet appeared during this time period, there was also an alignment of the planets Jupiter and Saturn and this would have produced a very bright star; there was also a stellar explosion, an exploding star, called a nova which also occurred during that time period. One shortcoming of these naturalistic explanations is that the star in Matthew’s Gospel leads the magi and then comes to rest over a house, something an ordinary star doesn’t do. This suggests that whatever the nature of the star might have been, God intervened in an extraordinary way to lead the magi to the messiah. One interesting proposal, one that the early Church Fathers write about, is that the star guiding the Magi was an angel. In the Jewish tradition stars were associated with angels and the guiding star in Matthew’s Gospel recalls the angel God sent to guide the people in the desert on their way to the Promised Land. So while some natural starry phenomenon might have initially led the Magi in search of a king, God later provided an Angel to finish leading the Magi to Jesus. Whatever the case, a star led the Magi to Jesus; a star led them to our Lord, led them to the eternal kingdom and to true worship.

Now in a way all of us here today are meant to imitate that Star of Bethlehem. Each one of us as a Christian should make it a goal to be like the star that guided the Magi.  That means being a steady witness to Christ, a gentle, but clear and attractive invitation to this Eternal Kingdom of God.

That obelisk in St. Peter’s square is a sign of God’s Kingdom but we too are signs. Like that star that guided the Magi to Jesus we guide our families, our friends, our neighbors, our co-workers we guide them by our example, our words, and our actions. But as you know we are not perfect, we sin, we make mistakes. In the moments after receiving Holy Communion, after thanking Him, ask our Lord how you can be a better guiding light or inspiration to those around you, and then listen, and then pray for that grace. More people than we realize, people who live right beside us, are searching, and if we let our lives shine in Christ, we can help them. God will use us to help them as the star helped the Magi to find True Joy.

Peace and all good,
Fr. Christopher Ankley