From the Pastor - 23rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

September 5, 2025

Today’s readings make very clear the demands that will be made of those wanting to be called disciples of Christ. We must be prepared to give our all to Him. But in the end, the life of discipleship — the stewardship way of life — is the only life that can truly satisfy.


In the Gospel passage from Luke, Christ says, “If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” Our Lord is speaking here not of emotions but rather of priorities. He must come first in all aspects of our lives. Period.


He goes on. “Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” In other words, it’s all or nothing. Compromise is simply not possible. Christ wants us to give all of ourselves, all aspects of our individual lives, our family life, our parish over to Him and to the pursuit of His kingdom.


And just when we think our Lord might soften His message to make it a little more palatable, He goes further! “Anyone of you who does not renounce all his possessions cannot be my disciple.” Why is our Lord being so demanding? Only because He knows us so well and loves us so much.


He knows that if we do not live by putting Him first before all else, we will easily be swallowed up by the earthly cares that weigh us down — our material things, our status, and our egos. He knows these things cannot satisfy us. He knows this because He is our Maker, and He made us for more.


We are made to be His disciples, to seek after Him and His Kingdom. Embracing stewardship as a way of life allows us to count the cost and then run after Him with all our might. © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2025


Pastoral Pondering

Over the last several years, I have noticed, and statistics seem to bear this out, that suicides and attempted suicides have been on the rise, especially among young people. The 18-30 demographic seems to be especially susceptible. I’m sure the roots of that type of despair start much younger, but funerals that I have celebrated or know about are always very heavy, spiritually. I have been speaking with my leadership team about ways that we, as a parish, could address this issue and be proactive in providing outreach and support. I thought it would be helpful to provide an outline of the Church’s teaching on the topic and encourage us all to think of ways that we can be a help in slowing the tide.


Hope in Christ: A Catholic Reflection on Suicide

The Gift of Life
The Church proclaims that every human life is sacred and created in love by God. “God alone is the Lord of life from its beginning until its end” (Catechism of the Catholic Church 2258). Suicide is a grave matter, because it rejects the gift of life entrusted to us (CCC 2280–2281). Yet the Church also teaches that grave psychological suffering, fear, or illness can lessen a person’s responsibility. For this reason, we do not despair of the salvation of those who have taken their own lives but entrust them with hope to the mercy of God (CCC 2282–2283).

Why Young Adults Are at Risk
Many young people today face loneliness, anxiety, and the pressure to be “perfect.” Pope Francis, in Christus Vivit, reminds the Church that young adults need to know they are not alone: “The Church must be a place of compassion, where they are listened to and accompanied with respect” (CV 242–247). Suicide often grows out of a crisis of meaning, when life feels empty or burdensome. The Gospel answers with a promise: each life has a God-given purpose that no failure or suffering can erase.

Our Christian Response

  • Compassion and Mercy. The Church rejects judgment and instead offers prayer, accompaniment, and hope for those who have died and for their families.
  • A Community of Belonging. Gaudium et Spes teaches that we only find ourselves through sincere gift of self (GS 24). Our parishes must be places where every young person knows they belong.
  • Seeking Help Is Holy. The Catechism calls care for health a moral duty (CCC 2288). Turning to counseling, medical support, or trusted mentors is a way of honoring God’s gift of life.
  • The Cross Brings Meaning. Saint John Paul II wrote that our suffering, united with Christ’s Passion, can become a source of redemption (Salvifici Doloris 18–19). No suffering is meaningless in Christ.

A Word of Hope
As followers of Jesus, we must say clearly: if you are struggling, you are not alone. Your life is not a mistake. God loves you. The Church loves you. Reach out — to a friend, to your priest, to a counselor. Asking for help is an act of courage and faith.

Prayer

God of mercy, embrace all who struggle with despair,

especially our young people.

Fill their hearts with the light of Your love.

Receive into Your peace those who have died,

console their families, and make our parish

a home of hope, healing, and belonging. Amen.

 

If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out.
📞 In the U.S., dial 988 (Suicide & Crisis Lifeline).


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.