From the Pastor - 19th Sunday in Ordinary Time

August 8, 2025

Whether you are just beginning your stewardship journey or have been living a stewardship way of life for years, today’s readings invite us to ask ourselves an important question.


The question is this: “What do you treasure?” Of course, we all know the “right” answer: we treasure our faith, our family, and our friendships. But Jesus tells us in the Gospel passage from Luke how we can discover the real answer to this question. He says, “For where your treasure is, there also will your heart be.” 


To discern what we really treasure, we need to do a check on our hearts. We can each ask ourselves, “Where do I spend the majority of my energy? Where do I find my thoughts dwelling? How do I choose to spend my time when I find myself with a few spare moments? What do my spending habits reveal about my what is important to me?


As Christian stewards, we are called to live our lives in grateful response to all that God has given us. Do I recognize and treasure these gifts? © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2025


Pastoral Pondering

A couple of weeks back, I wrote about the various types of prayer. Following up on that, I wanted to address what I would call emotionalism and faith. Over the years I have encountered quite a few Catholics who complain that they do not get anything out of Mass or they don’t “feel” God’s presence. This often leads to their searching all over the place – sometimes in all of the wrong places – for something to fill that void. There is a danger here that needs to be avoided.


The Catholic view of emotionalism, while not explicitly addressed as a single concept in official doctrine, can be understood through the Church’s teachings on emotions, reason, and the role of the will in spiritual life. Emotionalism, broadly defined as an excessive or uncontrolled reliance on emotions over reason or disciplined faith, is generally approached with caution in Catholic theology. Below is a concise explanation based on Catholic principles:


  1. Emotions as Part of Human Nature: The Catholic Church teaches that emotions (or "passions") are natural components of human psychology, created by God. According to the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 1763-1768), passions like love, joy, sorrow, or anger are neither good nor bad in themselves but become morally good or bad based on how they are directed by reason and the will toward God’s purpose.
  2. Balance of Reason and Emotion: Catholicism emphasizes the integration of emotions with reason and faith. Emotionalism, as an overemphasis on feelings without grounding in truth or moral reasoning, can lead to spiritual imbalance. St. Thomas Aquinas, a key Catholic theologian, teaches that passions must be governed by reason, which is informed by divine law and grace, to align with virtue (Summa Theologiae, I-II, Q. 24).
  3. Dangers of Emotionalism in Worship: In the context of liturgy and prayer, the Church values authentic emotional expression but warns against emotionalism that prioritizes subjective feelings over objective truth or the sacredness of worship. For example, Pope Benedict XVI, in his writings on liturgy, critiqued overly sentimental or entertainment-driven worship styles, advocating for reverence and focus on Christ’s sacrifice (The Spirit of the Liturgy). The Church encourages heartfelt devotion but rooted in doctrine and tradition. Sadly, there are many examples of contemporary Catholic worship that ignore this basic principle.
  4. Discernment in Spiritual Life: Catholic spirituality, as seen in the works of mystics like St. Ignatius of Loyola or St. Teresa of Ávila, stresses discernment to distinguish genuine spiritual consolations (from God) from fleeting emotional highs. Emotionalism that lacks discernment may lead to self-deception or instability in faith.
  5. Charismatic Movements and Emotional Expression: The Catholic Charismatic Renewal, for instance, embraces expressive worship and emotional experiences like joy or spiritual gifts (e.g., speaking in tongues). However, the Church regulates such movements to ensure they align with doctrine and are not driven by unchecked emotionalism. Vatican documents, like those from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, emphasize that charismatic expressions must be tested against Scripture and Tradition.


In summary, the Catholic Church views emotions as valuable but subordinate to reason, will, and faith. Emotionalism, when it overrides these, is seen as potentially misleading or spiritually immature. The goal is a balanced faith where emotions enrich but do not dominate one’s relationship with God. In the end, the goal of prayer, especially liturgical prayer, is to worship God. It is not about seeking heavenly warm fuzzies to make us feel better. On occasion we may certainly receive these signal graces, and we should thank God for those. Nonetheless, they are not ends in themselves. The only end of the spiritual life if God Himself.


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.