From the Pastor – 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

November 15, 2019

From the Pastor – 33 rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

This weekend is the 33rd and last numbered Sunday in Ordinary Time for this liturgical year. Recall that Ordinary does not refer to “average” or “normal,” but to time outside our two great seasons of celebration — Lent and Easter, and Advent and Christmas. Next Sunday is the Feast of Our Lord Jesus Christ, King of the Universe (Christ the King).

The readings for this weekend ask the stewardship question, “What are the obstacles which stand between you and holiness, between you and lives of stewardship?” The Liturgical year more or less follows Jesus’ life on earth. Therefore, it is appropriate that the Gospel for this Sunday is drawn from Luke 21, which is Christ’s last discourse with His Apostles and us prior to the Passion (which in the Gospel of Luke begins with Luke 22).

All three readings are complex, and we must listen carefully to grasp the stewardship significance of them. There is a finality to them. The first reading is from the prophetic Book of Malachi, the absolute last Book of the Old Testament. Malachi is also the 12th Book of the Minor Prophets, the number 12 having particular implication in Scripture from the Twelve Tribes of Israel to the Twelve Apostles.

Malachi means “God’s messenger.” The Book was written to address what was seen as a laxity among the Israelites in relation to their practice of their faith. It thus also reminds us, especially as we prepare for Advent, of our need to sharpen our senses, our prayer lives, and our faith lives. God has made promises to us, but for us to reap the benefits of those promises we must delve more deeply into our faith as good stewards and good Catholics.

The second reading from Saint Paul’s letter to the Thessalonians augments Malachi’s call to put our faith lives in order. Paul says in effect, and this again is germane to our preparations for Advent, “This is not time to be idle.” We have often said that stewardship is active, not passive. As good stewards our preparations for Advent and Christmas should provide opportunities for more prayer, more contemplation, and more dynamic outreach to those in need. Paul reminds us that there is time enough to rest in Heaven, not while here when we can have a positive impact on those around us.

The Gospel from Luke pinpoints some of the major obstacles to stewardship as a way of life. He focuses on two in particular: wealth and power. As is usually the case in Scriptural teachings, wealth in and of itself is not judged to be bad. However, when wealth and the accumulation of wealth detract us from being good stewards and sharing with others, it can be adverse to our spiritual health. Jesus prompts us that spiritual endurance does not come from human strength but from God’s love and the power it provides us. Our desire for power is not good, but our willingness to allow God’s love and power to help us live out stewardship is virtuous.

It is worth mentioning that this Gospel passage immediately follows the Lesson of the Widow’s Mites (Luke 21: 1-4). Consequently, we can clearly see the stewardship statement here: Do not aspire to wealth or power, but like the widow, strive to give from your want, your poverty, not from your excess. That is excellent preparation for the glory of Advent and Christmas.

©Catholic Stewardship Consultants

Pastoral Pondering

Next week we will celebrate the Solemnity of Christ the Universal King and come to the last Sunday in the Liturgical year. The feast provides us an opportunity to evaluate how we are allowing Christ to be the Lord and King of our lives. There are more than ample distractions in the world in which we live that are quite happy to pull us away from things that matter eternally. We have to always be on guard so that our eyes remain “fixed on Jesus”.

I mentioned a few weeks back the Pew Research Poll that indicated a lack of Eucharistic faith among those identifying as Catholic and noted some of the ways we are trying to address this at the parish. One of the things we have implemented, when we have the servers to do it, is using the hand patens to accompany those distributing Holy Communion. Some folks have asked why this is necessary or important, so I thought I would address it here. The revised liturgical norms (those issued after the Council) actually indicate that retaining the patens is praiseworthy; although, certainly, it was abandoned on a widespread scale in much of the USA. However, because we believe that the entire Christ is present in every particle of the Consecrated Species, then the reverence we show in its distribution communicates the centrality of this belief. As an aside, as one who purifies the patens after Communion, I can tell you that there are always particles on the patens. This, of course, raises the question of what happens to those particles when the patens are not used. It should make us conscious of insuring that, when receiving on the hand, all particles are consumed. The more reverent we can be in matters surrounding the Most Blessed Sacrament not only communicates the centrality of our belief and devotion in the Eucharistic presence, but also offers fitting and proper worship to God the Father who continues to nourish and strengthen us by the offering of His Son in the Most Holy Sacrament of the Altar. O Sacrament Most Holy, O Sacrament Divine, All Praise and All Thanksgiving be Every Moment Thine!

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.