From the Pastor - 18th Sunday in Ordinary Time

July 30, 2021

Often, we live our lives striving for temporary happiness. But today, Jesus reminds us to “not work for food that perishes, but for the food that endures for eternal life.” 

Our Eucharistic meal is the Spiritual Food that we consume — Jesus Himself, Body, Blood, Soul, and Divinity. It will satisfy us as Jesus says, “I am the bread of life; whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.”
 
We all have the need to be satisfied. It is in our humanity. And in that incompleteness, we grab at what surrounds us to satisfy our hearts. It could be the next job promotion, the comforts in our homes, the next trip we plan to take. The list goes on. We might think to ourselves, ‘then I will be happier.’ Or maybe we don’t even realize how we are relying on those things or events in our lives.
 
And while many of those things are good and bring us joy, they are only a small glimpse of the deeper, lasting happiness that the Lord offers us. They are gifts that should remind us of our Good and Gracious Creator. Instead of placing undue importance on those things or people, place it on Jesus, as He says, “Whoever comes to me will never hunger, and whoever believes in me will never thirst.” He is the One who fills our hearts. 

As you go about your day-to-day lives this week, try to recognize the times you are “working for food that perishes” by seeking things of the world to satisfy your heart. In those moments, recall that everything we have is a gift from God. Instead of misusing that gift, offer a prayer of thanksgiving for all He has given to you.© Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2021.

 

Pastoral Pondering – Because I was not raised Catholic, the only liturgical expression at Mass that I knew was the revised Mass of Pope St. Paul VI which was later revised by Pope St. John Paul II. It was not until I began studying liturgy and Church history that I encountered the Mass of Pope St. Pius V which was promulgated following the Council of Trent. I certainly did not know how to offer the Mass but could follow some of those elements which had not been removed or revised by the reformers of the Second Vatican Council.

 

When in 2007 Pope Benedict issued his motu proprio, Summorum Pontificum in 2007, it was recognized as a continuation of some provisions for the older liturgy that Pope St. John Paul II had made a number of years earlier. Pope Benedict, as some indicated, “freed the old Mass.” Here in the Diocese, we offered training for those priests who were willing to learn it, and provided for its celebration in a number of places on the Diocese for those who were devoted to it. Although, my Latin is decent, I must admit that learning the extraordinary form, as Pope Benedict called it, was a challenge.

 

In my experience over the years, with some limited exceptions, I have found those who love this expression of the liturgy to be very sincere, devout and far from divisive. Nonetheless, I am aware of some who, for various reasons, expressed attitudes contrary to the teaching of the Church and certainly to the mind of Pope Benedict. Hence, while not unexpected in some form, when Pope Francis issued his motu proprio, Traditionis custodes, the rather sweeping nature of the Pope’s letter and the severity of its tone was not only surprising but disturbing.

 

One of the things that the Holy Father underscored was the responsibility of the local bishop to be the moderator of the liturgy in his own diocese. Each bishop then has the responsibility of interpreting the document in light of canonical practice and the ultimate goal of Church law, the salvation of souls. Thus far, there have been varying responses across the episcopal landscape, with the majority of bishops realizing the benefits that the extraordinary form has had for many over the years and discerning how best to implement the disciplinary laws laid out by Pope Francis. As with all of his official documents, this motu proprio has to be read in light of the overarching themes of this Pope’s papacy, specifically, accompaniment, mercy and synodality, which we might also call collegiality.

 

More importantly is how we, priests and people alike, respond. As brothers and sisters in Christ, our first response must be prayer. Prayer for the Holy Father and for the Bishops, that they be guided by the Holy Spirit in fulfilling their pastoral responsibility. Likewise, we should have genuine concern and compassion for those who feel aggrieved and strive to move forward serenely trusting that Bishop Jugis, in fulfilling his role of leading the flock and providing for the salus animarum might be the guiding force and the ultimate goal of all of our efforts.

From the Pastor

From the Pastor - 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

By John Putnam • October 9, 2026
This reflection pertains to the regular readings for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time. We have been given so many gifts and blessings by our Heavenly Father. Yet, in our fallen state it is all too easy to take them for granted. Our readings today teach us that we must live with an intentional awareness of our many blessings and use them gratefully to glorify God. In our Gospel passage from Matthew, Jesus uses the image of a vineyard to teach the importance of using our blessings well. He tells the story of a landowner who plants a vineyard and leases it to tenants before he goes on a journey. Instead of tending the vineyard, the tenants mistreat the servants in the vineyard and even the son of the landowner, whom they kill. When the landowner realizes what the tenants have done, he puts them to death and leases his vineyard to tenants who “will give him the produce at the proper times.” By Baptism, we have received the gift of salvation and membership in the Kingdom of God — we are now “tenants” called to work in the “vineyard” and produce fruit for its owner, our Heavenly Father. Jesus makes it clear that if we squander the gift of salvation, we will lose it. It is a sobering truth. So, let us use our intellect to think on these gifts throughout the day and resolve to use all our gifts for God’s glory. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026 Pastoral Pondering Why St. Francis still matters to the Church On October 4 the Church honors St. Francis of Assisi, one of the most beloved and most demanding saints in our history. He is not merely a garden statue or a gentle friend of animals. Francis is a living reminder of what the Gospel looks like when it is taken at its word. Born Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone around 1181 in Assisi, he was the son of a wealthy cloth merchant. After a brief taste of knighthood and a season of pleasure, he heard Christ speak from the crucifix of San Damiano: “Francis, go and rebuild my house, which, as you see, is falling into ruin.” He took those words first as a command to repair a crumbling chapel. The Lord meant something larger: the renewal of the Church herself. What Francis restored in the Church Poverty as freedom. Francis stripped himself of inheritance, status, and even the clothes on his back. He called Lady Poverty his bride. That was not a romantic gesture. It was a protest against a Church and a society grown comfortable. Every generation of Catholics needs that protest. When we confuse the Gospel with respectability, Francis stands at the door of the Church and asks whether we still believe that Christ is enough. The crucified Christ at the center. In 1224, two years before his death, Francis received the stigmata on Mount La Verna—the wounds of Christ marked in his own flesh. The Church has always taught that holiness is configuration to Jesus crucified and risen. Francis made that teaching visible. He did not invent devotion to the Passion; he embodied it so completely that the Church could not look away. A family of religious life. From one poor man came the Friars Minor, the Poor Clares with St. Clare, and the Secular Franciscans for men and women living in the world. That threefold family still serves the Church on every continent: preaching, serving the poor, praying, and keeping the memory of the Gospel simple. When we speak of “Franciscan” today—whether a friar, a sister, or a parishioner in the Secular Order—we are naming a way of belonging to Christ that the Church has never outgrown. Creation as gift, not possession. The Canticle of the Creatures—“Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Mother Earth”—is not nature poetry. It is theology. Francis saw every creature as a brother or sister because all things come from the same Father. Pope Francis took that insight into Laudato Si’. Care for our common home is not an optional hobby for Catholics. It is part of the same conversion that led Francis to kiss the leper and to call the wolf of Gubbio his brother. Peace that costs something. In 1219 Francis crossed battle lines during the Fifth Crusade and stood before Sultan al-Kamil. He did not win a treaty. He witnessed to a Lord who is Peace. The Church still needs disciples willing to speak of Christ without hatred and without watering Him down. Francis did both. Why this matters here St. Francis matters to the life of the Church because he keeps returning us to the essentials: Christ poor and crucified, the Church always in need of reform, the poor as our brothers and sisters, creation as a hymn of praise, and joy that does not depend on having more. He is not a saint for specialists. He is a saint for anyone who has grown tired of a faith that costs nothing. As we keep his memorial, I invite you to do one Franciscan thing that is within reach: give something away that you do not need; speak peace where there is friction in your home; spend a few minutes outdoors thanking God for what you did not make; or pray before the crucifix and ask, as Francis did, to know Jesus and to make Him known.  The little poor man of Assisi still rebuilds the Church—one converted heart at a time. May he rebuild ours.

From the Pastor - Feast of St. Francis of Assisi

By John Putnam • October 2, 2026
This reflection pertains to the regular readings for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time. We have been given so many gifts and blessings by our Heavenly Father. Yet, in our fallen state it is all too easy to take them for granted. Our readings today teach us that we must live with an intentional awareness of our many blessings and use them gratefully to glorify God. In our Gospel passage from Matthew, Jesus uses the image of a vineyard to teach the importance of using our blessings well. He tells the story of a landowner who plants a vineyard and leases it to tenants before he goes on a journey. Instead of tending the vineyard, the tenants mistreat the servants in the vineyard and even the son of the landowner, whom they kill. When the landowner realizes what the tenants have done, he puts them to death and leases his vineyard to tenants who “will give him the produce at the proper times.” By Baptism, we have received the gift of salvation and membership in the Kingdom of God — we are now “tenants” called to work in the “vineyard” and produce fruit for its owner, our Heavenly Father. Jesus makes it clear that if we squander the gift of salvation, we will lose it. It is a sobering truth. So, let us use our intellect to think on these gifts throughout the day and resolve to use all our gifts for God’s glory. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026 Pastoral Pondering Why St. Francis still matters to the Church On October 4 the Church honors St. Francis of Assisi, one of the most beloved and most demanding saints in our history. He is not merely a garden statue or a gentle friend of animals. Francis is a living reminder of what the Gospel looks like when it is taken at its word. Born Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone around 1181 in Assisi, he was the son of a wealthy cloth merchant. After a brief taste of knighthood and a season of pleasure, he heard Christ speak from the crucifix of San Damiano: “Francis, go and rebuild my house, which, as you see, is falling into ruin.” He took those words first as a command to repair a crumbling chapel. The Lord meant something larger: the renewal of the Church herself. What Francis restored in the Church Poverty as freedom. Francis stripped himself of inheritance, status, and even the clothes on his back. He called Lady Poverty his bride. That was not a romantic gesture. It was a protest against a Church and a society grown comfortable. Every generation of Catholics needs that protest. When we confuse the Gospel with respectability, Francis stands at the door of the Church and asks whether we still believe that Christ is enough. The crucified Christ at the center. In 1224, two years before his death, Francis received the stigmata on Mount La Verna—the wounds of Christ marked in his own flesh. The Church has always taught that holiness is configuration to Jesus crucified and risen. Francis made that teaching visible. He did not invent devotion to the Passion; he embodied it so completely that the Church could not look away. A family of religious life. From one poor man came the Friars Minor, the Poor Clares with St. Clare, and the Secular Franciscans for men and women living in the world. That threefold family still serves the Church on every continent: preaching, serving the poor, praying, and keeping the memory of the Gospel simple. When we speak of “Franciscan” today—whether a friar, a sister, or a parishioner in the Secular Order—we are naming a way of belonging to Christ that the Church has never outgrown. Creation as gift, not possession. The Canticle of the Creatures—“Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Mother Earth”—is not nature poetry. It is theology. Francis saw every creature as a brother or sister because all things come from the same Father. Pope Francis took that insight into Laudato Si’. Care for our common home is not an optional hobby for Catholics. It is part of the same conversion that led Francis to kiss the leper and to call the wolf of Gubbio his brother. Peace that costs something. In 1219 Francis crossed battle lines during the Fifth Crusade and stood before Sultan al-Kamil. He did not win a treaty. He witnessed to a Lord who is Peace. The Church still needs disciples willing to speak of Christ without hatred and without watering Him down. Francis did both. Why this matters here St. Francis matters to the life of the Church because he keeps returning us to the essentials: Christ poor and crucified, the Church always in need of reform, the poor as our brothers and sisters, creation as a hymn of praise, and joy that does not depend on having more. He is not a saint for specialists. He is a saint for anyone who has grown tired of a faith that costs nothing. As we keep his memorial, I invite you to do one Franciscan thing that is within reach: give something away that you do not need; speak peace where there is friction in your home; spend a few minutes outdoors thanking God for what you did not make; or pray before the crucifix and ask, as Francis did, to know Jesus and to make Him known.  The little poor man of Assisi still rebuilds the Church—one converted heart at a time. May he rebuild ours.