From the Pastor - Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord

August 4, 2023

The Book of Daniel, from which our First Reading is drawn, was written some two centuries before the birth of Christ. This is only significant in that many of the prophets (Daniel is considered one of the major prophets) lived as many as six centuries before Christ. However, regardless the timeline, we need to be moved by and appreciative of the prophecies we find in the Old Testament. In the passage in today’s reading it states, “The one like a Son of Man received dominion, glory, and kingship.”


Today, of course, is the Feast of the Transfiguration of the Lord, and this reading very much parallels what is portrayed in the Transfiguration. The interesting point within this reading from Daniel, however, is that it refers to the “Son of Man,” which is the term Jesus Himself used most often to describe Himself.


We have referenced this fact previously. In fact, the term “Son of Man” occurs 85 times in the Gospels, and in 83 of them it is Jesus who uses the term. (It appears 32 times in Matthew; 15 times in Mark; 26 times in Luke; and 12 times in John, and it is in John where it is used twice by someone other than Jesus.)


The important point for us is that Jesus calling Himself the Son of Man explains that He was born of a woman, and He shares in our earthly conditions and sufferings. That fact should make us want to embrace Him as our Savior, our Friend, and our Shepherd even more. 

© Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2023


Pastoral Pondering 

As I sit here writing this, I am sitting in my room in Fatima, Portugal. This morning we visited the Shrine of the Holy Miracle of Santarem, a Eucharistic Miracle that took place in the 13th century. The gist of the story of the miracle involved a woman of the town who had to deal with a very difficult husband. She was so desperate that she approached a witch who promised help if the woman would bring her a Consecrated Host. The woman did so, removing the Host from her mouth after receiving and hiding it within a knot in her veil. After leaving the church, the woman realized that blood was dripping from the veil, so she ran home and hid the host in a box at the foot of her bed where she kept clean linen. During the night, she and her husband were awakened by a supernatural light. When they awoke, they saw the host suspended above the cupboard and angels in adoration. They immediately ran to get the parish priest, who came and brought the Holy Host to the parish church where it remains to this day. These and other Miracles are offered by the Lord to elicit faith and call us to greater holiness and devotion. Blessed Carlo Acutis catalogued many of these miracles and spent a great deal of time in his short life to encourage devotion to the Most Blessed Sacrament. We will be discussing some of these next Saturday following the 5:00 p.m. Mass at our Fireside Chat.


Help for the Holy Land Pilgrimage - Prior to COVID, I felt a call to take seminarians to the Holy Land. My first trip took place when I was a seminarian, and the experience changed my life and my priesthood. Christopher Cross, who has led many groups on pilgrimage thought it was a great idea, and I was able to secure a $50,000 donation to fund the effort. Alas, COVID hit, and those plans had to be postponed. We have made it to the other side of COVID, and we are planning for the pilgrimage after Christmas this year. However, because of the present economic reality, the cost of travel has increased dramatically. The cost for each participant is $4,000. We are hoping to take at least 30 seminarians. If things work out, I would also like to establish a fund so that we can repeat the trip every few years.



I know many of our parishioners have had the opportunity to go on a Holy Land Pilgrimage with Chris. As I said, my visits to the land where Jesus walked, have had a lasting impact on me and my ministry. I want that for our young men who are preparing for priesthood. I know it will enrich their lives, strengthen their vocational call, and help them be more effective priests of Jesus Christ. If you would like to assist, donations can be made via the parish website. Any donation should be noted for Holy Land trip.

Finally, I do hope you had the opportunity to find some rest and recreation over the summer. With school about to begin and normal programing ramping back up, life will get very busy again. Enjoy what’s left of the summer break and be assured of my prayers.



From the Pastor

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.
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.