From the Pastor - 33rd Sunday in Ordinary Time

November 11, 2022

As we approach the end of the liturgical year, our readings offer a sober reminder that this life is not our aim and that God’s justice will triumph in the end. Now is the time to get our priorities in order, putting God above all else as his faithful stewards.


Our Lord brings home the urgency of right priorities in our Gospel passage from Luke, reminding the people around him who were looking at the temple nearby, “All that you see here—the days will come when there will not be left a stone upon another stone that will not be thrown down.” Our Lord reminds us that all in this world is passing. We must keep our focus on eternity.


Yet before the eternal bliss of heaven, we should expect to be tried and tested. “Before all this happens, however, they will seize and persecute you, they will hand you over to the synagogues and to prisons and they will have you led before kings and governors because of my name.”



Sounds scary.


But if you are living a stewardship way of life, there is nothing to fear. You have a plan in place. All you need to do is stick with it. Put our Lord first in your time, with your talents, and through your use of treasure. This way of life is not easy. But Jesus promises it will lead to eternal salvation and the joy of union with Him. “You will be hated by all because of my name, but not a hair on your head will be destroyed. By your perseverance, you will secure your lives.”


Onward Christian stewards, the struggle is worth the joy that awaits! © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2022.


Pastoral Pondering

I was recently made aware of a story from the Diocese of Kerry in the Republic of Ireland wherein the local bishop reprimanded a priest for preaching about the reality of sin, specifically as it relates to abortion, transgenderism and homosexuality. Now there is certainly a correct way and an incorrect way to address these difficult social and moral issues, but for a bishop, to imply that sin should not be addressed in a homily is both sad and alarming. In listening to the homily, the priest in question pointed out that sin is rampant in society and nobody is talking about it. As an example, he highlighted some of the Irish government’s recent legislation as well as some of the troubling trends in society.


In Matthew 18:6 Jesus says, “Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone hung around his neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea.” And in Acts 3:19 Peter tells the crowd “Repent, therefore, and be converted, that your sins may be wiped away.” Throughout the centuries the Church, in harmony with the teaching of Christ passed down through the apostles, has been proclaiming moral truth while at the same time proclaiming the abundant mercy of God. This is certainly right and true.


However, if the proclamation of the Gospel, does not call to conversion and admonish the sinful (which includes all of us); then, the Gospel becomes empty, just pablum for the masses. Such empty proclamation cannot save souls because it is not faithful to the Gospel of repentance that Our Blessed Lord proclaimed. True preaching of Gospel truth should make all of us a bit uncomfortable. It should make us reflect and ponder the realities of our life and the realities of the world in which we live. A world, by the way, which more and more is embracing a paganism to rival that of Ancient Rome. If the mission of the Church is to save souls, and it is; then, we have to proclaim Gospel truths. To be sure, the proclamation needs to be done with love and compassion, but that can never be equated with simply glossing over the “hard stuff”. When we turn a blind eye to sin, we become complicit in it. A parent who does not correct a child or pastor who doesn’t correct his flock are not leading the souls entrusted to them to heaven but rather to eternal destruction.


The images that we hear about at the end of the Church year, focus on the last things and the second coming of Christ to “judge the living and the dead”. I thank God every day for the faithful “preachers” who have proclaimed Gospel truth to me over the years. And while I may be far from heeding those truths day in and day out, I am thankful that I have heard the message and know the path that leads to Christ.


Parish personnel

Our Director of Sacred Music, Jacob Temple, will be taking a position in the Archdiocese of St. Paul/Minneapolis. While I am personally saddened to see him leave us, I am truly thankful for his hard work and dedication over the past several years. Jacob, Lindsay and little Felix have been a true part of our parish family. As he moves on to take a position where his musical talents and abilities can really shine, please keep him and his growing family in your prayers. We will begin the search for a new Director right away. And, as was previously announced, Ben Torres, who has been leading the Psalm 59 group is also stepping down. He will be leaving at the end of the year, so we are also looking for someone to take his position. Please keep both of these needs in your prayers.


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.