From the Pastor - 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

October 10, 2025

Gratitude is the key to a stewardship way of life. Today’s readings demonstrate the power and vital importance of gratitude in the life of the Christian disciple, for gratitude leads us to worship God who offers us salvation.


We see the power of gratitude on display in the Gospel passage from Luke after Jesus heals ten lepers. “And one of them, realizing he had been healed, returned.” Only one of the ten recognized the tremendous blessing he had received from Jesus and returned to thank him. While it’s easy to feel indignant at the failure of the nine others to return and thank Jesus, how often do we fail to recognize the blessings, answered prayers, and healings (both physical and spiritual) that the Lord showers upon us, day and night?


The truth is that our very lives and every breath we take are His gift to us. But we can get so caught up in the stresses and distractions of daily life that we lose touch with this truth.


The Samaritan reacts to his gift of healing with the proper response to our loving God. Recognizing what he had just received from the Lord, he “returned, glorifying God in a loud voice; and he fell at the feet of Jesus and thanked Him.” He was grateful for what God had done for him, and this gratitude led to worship.

And because of this response, Jesus offered him a far more precious gift than physical healing; He offered him the gift of salvation. “Stand up and go; your faith has saved you.”


Too often, we hear the phrase, “Count your blessings,” and write it off as nothing more than a trite saying. Today’s Gospel shows us otherwise. Gratitude is powerful. It deepens our faith in God and leads us to fitting worship of Him. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2025


Pastoral Pondering

Over the past few weeks, St. Mark has had funeral after funeral. As we approach November, I thought it might be helpful to discuss the Catholic approach to death and dying. Rather than seeing the end of the earthly journey as something to be dreaded and avoided, Catholics approach death and dying with a blend of spiritual practices, rituals, and theological beliefs rooted in their faith, emphasizing hope in eternal life, God’s mercy, and the communal support of the Church. Here’s a concise overview:

1. Theological Perspective on Death

Eternal Life and Resurrection: Catholics believe death is not the end but a transition to eternal life. Based on Christ’s resurrection, they hold that the soul separates from the body at death, awaiting the final resurrection when body and soul are reunited (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 989–1001).

Judgment and Afterlife: After death, each person faces a particular judgment, determining their eternal destiny: heaven (often via purification in purgatory), or hell if unrepentant of serious sin (CCC 1021–1022). This belief shapes their approach to preparing for death.

2. Preparation for Death

Sacrament of the Anointing of the Sick: This sacrament is administered to those seriously ill or near death, offering spiritual healing, forgiveness of sins, and strength. It’s often paired with Confession and Holy Communion (called Viaticum, meaning “food for the journey”) to prepare the soul for eternity (CCC 1499–1532).

Prayer and Repentance: Catholics are encouraged to reflect on their lives, seek forgiveness through Confession, and entrust themselves to God’s mercy. Prayers like the Rosary or Divine Mercy Chaplet are common for the dying and their families.

Spiritual Support: Priests, family, or Catholic communities often pray with the dying, offering comfort through scripture, hymns, or the Commendation of the Dying, a ritual to entrust the soul to God.

3. Rituals and Practices After Death

Funeral Rites: The Catholic funeral consists of three parts:

Vigil (Wake): A time for family and friends to gather, pray (often the Rosary), and share memories.

Funeral Mass/Mass of Christian Burial: A liturgy celebrating Christ’s resurrection and praying for the deceased’s soul, often emphasizing hope over despair.

Committal: The burial or cremation (permitted since 1963, though the Church prefers burial) with prayers entrusting the deceased to God.

Masses for the Dead: Catholics offer Masses for the deceased, especially for souls in purgatory, believing these prayers aid their purification (CCC 1032).

4. Grieving and Community Support

Hope in Resurrection: Grief is acknowledged, but Catholics are encouraged to focus on the hope of eternal life, which tempers sorrow (1 Thessalonians 4:13–14).

Community Role: The Church community supports the bereaved through prayers, Masses, and practical help, reinforcing that death is a shared journey within the “communion of saints.”

Memento Mori: The tradition of “remembering death” encourages Catholics to live virtuously, keeping eternity in mind, often through practices like praying for the dead on All Souls’ Day (November 2).

5. Cultural Variations

While core beliefs and rituals are universal, cultural practices vary. For example:

In Hispanic Catholic communities, *Día de los Muertos* blends indigenous traditions with Catholic prayers, honoring the dead with altars and Masses.

In some European traditions, month’s mind Masses (a Mass one month after death) are common to continue praying for the deceased.

6. Practical Aspects

End-of-Life Decisions: The Church teaches that life must be respected, but extraordinary medical measures aren’t required if they’re burdensome or futile (CCC 2278). Palliative care is supported to alleviate suffering while respecting natural death.

Advance Directives: Catholics are encouraged to prepare advance directives aligned with Church teaching, ensuring their care respects their faith.

7. Comfort in Faith

Catholics draw comfort from scriptures like John 11:25 (“I am the resurrection and the life”) and prayers like *Eternal Rest* (“Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord”). The belief in purgatory offers hope that loved ones can be aided through prayer, even after death, and reminds us that death never has the last word.


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.