From the Pastor - 21st Sunday in Ordinary Time

August 22, 2025

Today’s readings show us that it is not enough to be Christ’s disciples in name only. To be a real disciple, we must live for Christ every day and in every aspect of life. This kind of life takes strength and discipline.


Intentionally and consistently offering the Lord the best of our Time, Talent, and Treasure through a stewardship way of life is a form of spiritual discipline. These spiritual disciplines teach us to become ever more aware of God’s constant provision for us and they keep us on the narrow path towards the Kingdom of Heaven. The more we embrace this way of life, the more we can be “trained” by the Lord in the ways of true discipleship. Though difficult, these disciplines become a source of spiritual strength.


Our Lord Himself speaks of the difficult path to the Kingdom of Heaven in today’s Gospel passage from Luke. He is asked, “Lord, will only a few be saved?” Jesus responds, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.” Showing up for Mass on Sunday while living as if Christ is an afterthought the rest of the week does not make us disciples. What’s more, this approach to our faith is an unjust and unloving response to our good God who has given us all that we have and are.


Jesus does not want us to merely go through the motions of faith. He wants much more from us and for us. He wants to know us deeply and for us to get to know Him so that we become His holy disciples. This is not a burden; it is a privilege. But it does take discipline, the discipline of a stewardship way of life. © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2025


Pastoral Pondering

As the school year ramps up again, I wanted to let you know that another young man from the parish has begun his propaedeutic year at St. Joseph College Seminary. John Yellico, the son of Glen and Lissette Yellico, was accepted to the program earlier this summer. He is also the brother of Father Joseph Yellico, recently ordained and Sister Mary Agnes Yellico of the Daughters of the Virgin Mother. Please keep him and all of our seminarians in your prayers.


Recently, the Diocese has been working on developing policies to govern the use of artificial intelligence for our employees and ministry sites. AI is almost constantly in the news and most everyone is familiar with Chat GPT, Truthly (the Catholic option) and any number of other efforts to harness this new technology. Earlier this year, the Holy See’s Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith issued a document dealing with this topic. I thought it might be useful, therefore, to offer some thoughts that might be helpful to some of you.


Here’s a pastoral reflection based on Antiqua et Nova, tailored for inclusion in a pastoral letter:

In our time, we are witnessing extraordinary advances in technology, especially in the realm of Artificial Intelligence (AI). These developments bring both promise and challenge, and as your pastor, I feel called to reflect with you on what this means for our faith, our humanity, and our shared journey toward holiness.


The Vatican’s recent document, Antiqua et Nova, reminds us that while AI may imitate certain aspects of human intelligence, it cannot replicate the fullness of what it means to be human. Our intelligence is not merely computational—it is relational, moral, and spiritual. It is a gift from God, rooted in our capacity to love, to discern, and to seek truth.


AI can assist us in many ways, from medicine to education to communication. But we must never forget that machines do not possess souls. They do not pray, suffer, or hope. They do not know mercy or grace. Only we, created in the image and likeness of God, bear the responsibility to use these tools wisely, ensuring they serve the dignity of every person.

 

Let us not be seduced by the illusion that technology can replace human wisdom or divine guidance. Instead, let us cultivate a “wisdom of heart,” as the document urges—a wisdom that listens to the Spirit, that seeks justice, and that places love above efficiency.


In our homes, schools, and parishes, may we teach our children not only how to use technology, but how to remain human in a digital age. May we accompany one another with compassion, and may our choices reflect the Gospel values of truth, humility, and care for the vulnerable.


Let us pray for discernment, for courage, and for a renewed commitment to the common good. And may we always remember: the most powerful intelligence is not artificial—it is the wisdom that comes from walking humbly with our God.


The full document is worth the read and may be found on the Vatican website at Antiqua et nova. Note on the Relationship Between Artificial Intelligence and Human Intelligence (28 January 2025)


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.