From the Pastor - 22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time

August 26, 2022

Today’s readings remind us of a chief virtue that characterizes the Christian steward: humility. This is a virtue that is widely thought of as a form of self-abasement. That understanding, however, is off the mark. Humility is simply the awareness of who (and Whose) we truly are. 


On one hand, we are children of the Most High God who loved us into existence and who, by virtue of our Baptism, have the Holy Trinity dwelling within us. On the other hand, we are children who are completely dependent on God for our existence and for every breath we take. Our Lord speaks of true humility in our Gospel passage from Luke, telling the parable of the guests invited to a wedding banquet and instructing us not to seek a place of honor at the banquet table, lest a more distinguished guest arrives and we are asked to move to a lower place.


Jesus has much more in mind here than an etiquette lesson. He is reminding us that all glory belongs to God. The visual image He offers in having to slink down to a lower seat at the table points out how silly we are when we forget to give God the credit for our blessings and talents.


On the other hand, when we live in humility — recognizing that all we have is a gift from God and using those gifts to serve Him and others — then God “exalts” us by filling us with even more of Himself and His grace.


Jesus goes on to encourage us to serve and share our blessings with people facing circumstances that would make it impossible for them to offer us any worldly advantage or prestige — “the poor, the crippled, the lame.”


Our attitude and how we serve and share should be centered on true humility — recognizing that we are all “little” ones in the eyes of God. We are all His children; brothers and sisters invited to our Father’s heavenly banquet.

© Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2022


Pastoral Pondering

I am generally not a negative person. I try to see “the glass half full” when at all possible. On the other hand, I think we all have to be realistic about the world around us. With that being said, in a recent anonymous email that was forwarded to me, a complaint was lodged that our homilies here, among other things, tend to paint the world as bad…even though “real persecution of Christians is happening in places such as China or the Middle East, not in the United States.” In all candor, if I receive an unsigned letter or an anonymous email, I have no use for it. In this case though, in light of some current events, I decided to do so. If people have issues or concerns, then I am always happy to discuss them face to face. I may or may not agree with those concerns, but I will be respectful and listen. That, however, is only possible, when the one concerned has enough integrity to actually share them.


Now, I agree that Christians are not being beheaded by Isis or some other terror group here in the USA, but there are some indications that things are not as “rosy” as some might think. For example, since May of 2020, there have been over 200 attacks on U.S. Catholic Churches. Some of these were graffiti or destruction of a statue but others included arson and the complete destruction of a church building. Of these 200, 70 occurred following the illegal release of the Supreme Court’s draft of the Dobbs decision that returned the

matter of abortion to the states.


More recently, last Sunday, the vigil of the Assumption of the Blessed Virgin Mary, the Atlantic published an article which claimed that the rosary is an “extremist symbol.” Because of the backlash that followed the release of the article, the publishers of the Atlantic changed the title three times; finally settling on How Extremist Gun Culture is Trying to Co-Opt the Rosary.


The article itself is, to say the least, a poor example of journalism, if it even can be called that. The author, Dan Panneton, attempts, and rather poorly at that, to connect violent terrorism with those who pray the rosary. To be sure, we Catholics do use words such as “spiritual warfare” and “battle,” but, as anyone familiar with the Scriptures or Church teaching knows, those descriptions are dealing with spiritual realities. And, as far as I can tell, I have heard no stories of rosary toting nuns firebombing abortion clinics or fanatical friars attempting to lead angry mobs in violent attacks on Catholic dissidents or secularists.


Finally, yes, Christians in Sudan, the Middle East, and China are often the victims of terrible violence. We as Catholics who still have Constitutional rights, should speak up and oppose this violence and do what we can to assist the victims. Nonetheless, we must not stick

our heads in the sand and fail to see that anti-Catholic sentiment and violence have been increasing right here in the U.S. In our particular area, we have been spared some of the more egregious acts, but unless we are vigilant, we should not be surprised when we are not.  Regardless, we are all called to the same response. We are called to be holy; to work on our own spiritual health and well-being while at the same time striving to allow the Truth of Christ to inform the culture around us. And one of the ways to do that, is to pray the spiritual weapon that Our Lady has given us and saints have recommended over the centuries, the Most Holy Rosary.

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.