From the Pastor - 29th Sunday in Ordinary Time

October 17, 2025

The four pillars of parish stewardship are hospitality, prayer, formation, and service. Today’s readings show us the immense value of prayer and the privileged place it must have in our individual lives and in our parish community


Our Lord Himself calls us to prayer — and persistence in prayer — in the Gospel passage from Luke. Jesus tells the parable of the nagging widow who finally wears down the judge with her unrelenting persistence in her pursuit of a just ruling from him on her behalf. Jesus goes to great lengths to describe this judge, saying he “neither feared God nor respected any human.” Yet even this corrupt judge responds with a just judgment because of the widow’s persistence.


Jesus uses this outlandish example to draw a vivid contrast between a reluctant, dishonest judge and our loving, all-merciful Father. If even a bad judge will give a good result in response to a persistent request, how much more (infinitely more) eagerly and perfectly will our good Father respond to our persistent prayers to Him. 

If he delays in responding, if he provides a different response from the one we were expecting, we can remain confident and trusting in His goodness, knowing that His response, whenever it comes and in whatever form, will be the very best one for us.


Our job then, as Christian stewards, is simply to remain faithful to our relationship with God through prayer. We must lean on each other in our communities — family and parish — as we support each other in prayer. A strong pillar of prayer will make all our other stewardship efforts fruitful. © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2025


Pastoral Pondering

I have noticed for a while now that many folks in the parish, and many Catholics in general, seem to have an erroneous or at least a confused understanding of the “Sunday obligation.” The obligation to attend Mass on Sundays and holy days is rooted in our fundamental obligation to worship God and keep the Lord’s Day holy. In light of this, I thought it opportune to present a summary of the Church’s teaching in this regard. I hope you find it helpful.


Catholics are obligated to attend Mass on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation primarily because it is a precept of the Church, rooted in both divine law and ecclesiastical authority. This obligation stems from the Third Commandment (“Remember to keep holy the Lord’s Day”), which in Christian tradition applies to Sunday as the day commemorating Christ’s Resurrection, marking it as a day of worship, rest, and renewal. The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) explains this in detail, particularly in sections on the precepts of the Church and the Third Commandment.


Biblical and Theological Foundations

  • The obligation draws from Scripture, where God commands the sanctification of the Sabbath (Exodus 20:8-11; Deuteronomy 5:12-15). For Christians, this shifts to Sunday—the “Lord’s Day”—to honor Jesus’ Resurrection on the first day of the week (Acts 20:7; Revelation 1:10).
  • The Eucharist is seen as the “source and summit” of the Christian life (CCC 1324), making participation essential for spiritual nourishment, community unity, and fulfilling one’s relationship with God. As CCC 2180 states, the faithful are bound to participate in Mass on these days to sanctify them through worship.
  • Holy Days of Obligation are additional feasts (such as Christmas, Assumption of Mary, or All Saints’ Day, varying by region) that the Church designates as equally important for similar reasons—honoring key mysteries of faith, the Virgin Mary, or saints—requiring the same level of observance.

Church Law and Precepts

  • This is formalized as the first precept of the Church: “You shall attend Mass on Sundays and on holy days of obligation and rest from servile labor” (CCC 2042). It requires active participation in the Eucharistic celebration and abstaining from work that hinders sanctification or rest.
  • Canon Law reinforces this: “On Sundays and other holy days of obligation, the faithful are obliged to participate in the Mass” (Canon 1247).
  • The Sunday Eucharist is described as the “foundation and confirmation of all Christian practice,” making attendance obligatory unless excused by serious reasons like illness, infant care, or a dispensation from a pastor (CCC 2181). Deliberately missing without such cause is considered a grave (mortal) sin.

Practical and Spiritual Reasons

  • Attending Mass orients believers toward God at the start of the week, fosters community, and provides grace through the sacraments. It’s not just a rule but an opportunity for encounter with Christ.
  • The Church emphasizes this as the highest form of worship, essential even during travel or vacations, underscoring its priority in Catholic life.


This obligation applies to all Catholics who have reached the age of reason (around 7 years old) and are physically able, with exceptions for valid impediments.

Parents have a very important obligation to assist their children to fulfill this obligation. In general, children under the age of 16 cannot get to Mass without the assistance of the adults in their lives. Hence, the culpability for missing Mass usually falls to those adults rather than the children.



In the end fulfilling the “Sunday obligation” is more about loving God than anything else. Do we love Him enough to give Him at least an hour on Sundays and holy days? It would seem this is the least we can do in offering this act of love to the One who loved us first.

 

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.