Category: Fr. Tom’s Weekly Message

Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary and Joseph

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

The days immediately following Christmas are not an afterthought. The Church, in her wisdom, places before us three feasts that interpret the mystery we have just celebrated: the Feast of St. Stephen, the Feast of St. John the Apostle and Evangelist, and the Feast of the Holy Family. Together, they remind us that the Word made flesh enters real human history, with all its beauty and cost.

On December 26, we honor St. Stephen, the first martyr. It can feel jarring to move so quickly from the joy of the Nativity to the violence of martyrdom. Yet this is precisely the point. The birth of Christ is not sentimental; it is consequential. Stephen, filled with the Holy Spirit, bears witness to Christ not with anger or revenge, but with truth, courage, and forgiveness. As stones fall upon him, his final words echo those of Jesus on the Cross: “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” The Child born in Bethlehem already casts a long shadow toward Calvary, and Stephen shows us that to follow Christ is to allow love to triumph even in suffering. Christmas faith is not protected from the world; it is lived within it.

The next day, December 27, we celebrate St. John the Apostle and Evangelist, the beloved disciple. John stands in striking contrast to Stephen. Stephen dies for Christ; John lives long for Christ. He is the one who reclines close to Jesus at the Last Supper, who stands at the foot of the Cross, and who runs to the empty tomb. John’s witness is not sealed with blood, but with fidelity. He reminds us that holiness is not only found in dramatic sacrifice, but in steady, lifelong love. His Gospel begins not with a manger, but with eternity: “In the beginning was the Word.” John teaches us that the Child of Christmas is the eternal Son of the Father, the Light no darkness can overcome. To remain close to Christ, as John did, is itself a profound act of discipleship.

Then, within this same octave, the Church invites us to contemplate the Holy Family: Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Here the mystery becomes even more intimate. God chooses to dwell not only among humanity, but within a family. The Holy Family was not idealized or exempt from difficulty. They knew uncertainty, displacement, obedience, silence, and trust. Joseph leads his family into exile. Mary treasures mysteries she does not fully understand. Jesus grows in wisdom and stature through ordinary days of work, prayer, and love. In them we see that family life, with all its challenges, is a privileged place of God’s presence.

Taken together, these feasts form a pattern for Christian life. St. Stephen teaches us courage and forgiveness in the face of opposition. St. John teaches us intimacy with Christ and perseverance in love. The Holy Family teaches us that faith is lived out daily, in homes, relationships, and responsibilities. Christmas is not confined to December 25. It unfolds in witness, in fidelity, and in family life.

As we continue through these holy days, may we resist the temptation to rush past them. Let us ask for Stephen’s courage, John’s closeness to Christ, and the Holy Family’s trust in God’s providence. If the Word has truly become flesh among us, then our lives, too, are meant to become a living proclamation of the Gospel.

Blessed Christmas Season,

 Fr. Tom Lanza
Pastor, St. Matthias Parish & School

 

4thSunday of Advent

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Keeping Christ at the center is not simply a design principle for a church building; it is a spiritual discipline for a parish community. The physical arrangement of our worship space teaches and reinforces what we believe. When we walk into the church and our eyes are drawn immediately to the tabernacle, placed in the center of the sanctuary behind the altar, we are reminded of the foundational truth that animates all Christian life: Christ is truly present among us. He is not symbolic, distant, or abstract. He dwells with His people. He is the One we come to adore, the One who sustains us in every joy and trial, and the One who sends us forth to live as His disciples.

Pope Leo XIII once wrote, “There can be no greater danger than forgetting God; and no greater blessing than keeping Him ever before our eyes.” That simple, incisive line speaks directly to the heart of Christian discipleship. Forgetting God does not typically happen suddenly. It happens quietly, through small compromises, through distractions, through rhythms of life that slowly edge Christ out of the center. The same can occur in a parish. When Christ’s presence in the Eucharist is treated as an afterthought, the spiritual fruits of parish life diminish. When His presence becomes our reference point, everything gains clarity and purpose.

This is why the placement of the tabernacle is not incidental. Its position at the center of the sanctuary is a proclamation in wood, stone, and gold of what we hold most dear. It situates the Eucharist at the heart of our communal life. From the moment a parishioner walks through the door, reverence becomes intuitive. Silence becomes natural. Prayer becomes almost instinctive. The church itself teaches: “Here is the Lord. Come and adore.”

Christ-centered worship space forms Christ-centered people. The gestures we make in church carry into the attitudes we carry at home, at work, and in the world. Every genuflection, every moment of silence before the tabernacle, every time a child asks, “Why do we kneel here?”, becomes catechesis. We learn to order our lives the same way the sanctuary is ordered: with Christ at the center, everything else oriented around Him.

To keep Christ at the center of life is far more demanding than keeping Him at the center of a sanctuary. It requires daily choices: choosing prayer before noise, choosing mercy when anger feels easier, choosing gratitude in seasons of discouragement, choosing to place our anxieties into His hands instead of carrying them alone. When we intentionally make space for Christ, He reshapes our priorities. He clarifies what matters. He offers peace where the world offers only distraction.

The placement of our tabernacle is also an invitation to deeper Eucharistic faith. If Christ is truly present there, then our lives must reflect that belief. We are called to approach Him with reverence, to adore Him with love, and to receive Him with a heart ready to be changed. The more we believe that Christ is truly with us, the more we imitate Him. This is what Pope Leo meant about the blessing of keeping God before our eyes. When our gaze remains fixed on Christ, we cannot help but become more like Him.

As we continue to grow as a parish, let us allow our worship space to form our hearts. When you enter the church, take a moment to pause and rest your eyes on the tabernacle. Offer a simple prayer: “Jesus, be at the center of my life today.” Let the sanctuary’s design guide your interior life. Let the presence of Christ in the Eucharist draw you into deeper holiness.

A parish that keeps Christ at the center of its worship becomes a parish that keeps Christ at the center of its mission. May our church, our homes, and our hearts reflect that singular truth: Christ dwells among us, and He leads us always to the Father.

Fr. Tom Lanza
Pastor, St. Matthias Parish & School

 

3rd Sunday of Advent

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

As we journey through this sacred season of waiting and hope, the Church invites us to prepare our hearts to welcome Christ anew. One of the most powerful ways we do this is through the Sacrament of Reconciliation—a gift of mercy in which God restores us, strengthens us, and draws us back into His peace.

Advent is often described as a “little Lent,” a time not only of joyful anticipation but also of honest reflection. In the quiet moments of this season, we recognize where we have wandered, where relationships need healing, and where we long for a fresh start. Confession is not meant to weigh us down, but to set us free. It is Christ who meets us in our sinfulness, not with judgment, but with compassion. He lifts the burdens we carry and replaces them with grace, clarity, and renewed purpose.

Many people tell me how relieved they feel after going to confession—how the sacrament brings spiritual lightness, deeper peace, and a renewed sense of direction. Whether it has been months, years, or even decades, the Lord’s mercy is always ready, always personal, and always transformative.

With this in mind, I warmly invite all our parishioners and families to our Advent Reconciliation Service on Monday, December 15th, from 6:00 pm –7:30 pm. We will have seven priests available on the first floor of our school to hear confessions. This is a wonderful opportunity for individuals, couples, parents, and children to prepare their hearts together as a family of faith.

At the same time, our usual Monday Eucharistic Adoration will take place in the main church from 6:00–8:00 pm. Whether you choose to spend time before the Blessed Sacrament before or after confession, or simply come to pray quietly, I encourage you to make this evening a moment of grace in your Advent journey.

Please join us. Come as you are. Let the Lord meet you with the mercy and love He desires to pour into your life.

 

Blessed Advent,

Fr. Tom

 

2nd Sunday of Advent

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

This week the Holy Father has offered the universal Church a powerful call to unity and conviction in faith with his new Apostolic Letter “In Unitate Fidei” — “In the Unity of Faith.” Promulgated on 23 November 2025, the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ the King, the letter commemorates the 1,700th anniversary of the First Council of Nicaea (325 AD), at which the foundational profession of Christian faith — the Nicene Creed — was first solemnly formulated.

Pope Leo writes not as a theologian issuing new dogma, but as a shepherd inviting the entire flock to rediscover the Creed as “a living profession of faith,” one that calls us to personal conversion, communal witness, and renewed commitment to unity in Christ.

At the core of “In Unitate Fidei” lies, the affirmation that the Creed formulated at Nicaea remains the “common heritage of Christians” everywhere — a heritage handed down through centuries, across liturgies, confessions, and cultures. The Creed’s declaration — “I believe in one Lord Jesus Christ, the Only Begotten Son of God … for our salvation he came down from heaven” — is at once simple and profound. Pope Leo reminds us that this is “the heart of the Christian faith,” the central truth around which all else revolves.

Through Jesus Christ — God made flesh, Word become incarnate — the living God draws near to humanity. In the Incarnation, God becomes our neighbor, identifies with the poor and suffering, and calls us to respond with compassion and justice. The letter draws out this truth in biblical and traditional imagery: Jesus as “light of the world,” the Word made flesh, reconciler, Redeemer — the source of true human dignity, community, and hope.

This is not abstract theology, but faith meant to shape lives — our worship, our common prayer, our interior conversion, and our witness in the world. The Creed, which we often recite almost reflexively in the the Sunday Eucharist, must influence how we think, act, love, and live in solidarity with others.

The timing of this document is deeply significant. The Church will soon mark the anniversary of Nicaea with a pilgrimage to the ancient city of Nicaea (modern İznik, Turkey) — a symbolic journey to the roots of Christian unity. Pope Leo’s visit to Türkiye (and also Lebanon) underscores the broader ecumenical dimension of the letter: a call to remember what unites Christians rather than what divides them.

In a world torn apart by war, violence, injustice, inequality, and spiritual indifference, Pope Leo reminds us that the Creed can — and should — be a source of hope. He invites Christians everywhere to rediscover the Creed not as a relic of the past, but as a living, unifying confession of faith. Through that confession, we are called to witness to the love and justice of God, to care for the poor, creation, and neighbors in need — thereby incarnating the Gospel in concrete acts of mercy.

Moreover, the letter appeals not only to Catholics, but implicitly to all Christians — Orthodox, Protestant, and others — affirming that the Nicene-Constantinopolitan Creed is, for all of us, a common foundation. The Pope encourages ecumenical dialogue grounded on shared baptism and this common confession of faith.

Pope Leo’s letter does not call for triumphalism. Rather, he issues a sober challenge to examine our hearts: Are the words we profess each Sunday — “I believe …” — truly alive in us? Do they shape our attitudes, decisions, and actions? Do we treat God’s creation and our neighbor with reverence and solidarity?

In many societies, “God” has become a distant, abstract notion — or worse, an idol we manipulate according to our convenience. The Pope warns against reducing God to a philosophical or ideological concept; the Creed attests to a living God who draws near, redeems, and transforms. Our calling as Christians is to bear witness to that living God by living out the creed.

Through this interior conversion and outward solidarity, the Church can become a credible sign of unity, hope, reconciliation, and peace in our divided world. As Pope Leo says, “what unites us is much greater than what divides us.”

 

1st Sunday of Advent – What Do Liturgical Vessels Say About Who Jesus Is?

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

From the earliest years of Christianity, the vessels used at Mass have reflected what believers understood about Jesus Christ—His humanity, His divinity, and His sacrificial love made present in the Eucharist. In the first centuries, Christian communities gathered in homes, celebrating the Eucharist in simple, domestic settings. Wood, clay, glass, and wicker cups and baskets were used not out of preference but necessity. These early materials emphasized the intimate, meal-centered dimension of the Eucharist—a family gathered around Christ to remember His life, death, and resurrection.

Yet the Eucharist has never been only a meal. From the beginning, Christians recognized that in this sacred action, they were participating in both the Last Supper and the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross. The vessels used for the Eucharist, then, gradually began to express not just the humble humanity of Jesus, but also His divine identity as the Lamb of God. Over two thousand years, the evolution of these vessels reveals the Church’s careful balance of honoring both the humanity and the divinity of Christ.

A major turning point in this understanding came with the Council of Chalcedon in 451 AD, which articulated with clarity that Jesus is fully God and fully man. Interestingly, this theological clarity coincided with growing Christian communities and the development of larger, more formal worship spaces. As gatherings outgrew private homes, it became clear that ordinary household cups and baskets were no longer suitable—or large enough—for the celebration of the Eucharist.

Liturgical historians such as David Philippart note that early chalices sometimes had to hold enough Precious Blood for over one hundred people. This practical necessity led to the creation of vessels designed specifically—and exclusively—for the Eucharist. Form followed function, and the function was sacred: to hold the Body and Blood of the Lord.

By the fourth through seventh centuries, after Christianity had been legalized and basilicas began to flourish, simple materials like wood and clay gave way to gold and silver. The beauty and permanence of these metals reflected the growing conviction that the liturgy should express the heavenly reality it celebrates. At the same time, Christian leaders insisted on preserving Jesus’ own example of “one bread and one cup.” Large, vase-shaped chalices with handles were crafted to serve hundreds of believers from a single Eucharistic vessel. During the Middle Ages, additional theological developments shaped the vessels. As the Church deepened its understanding of Christ’s real presence and as a sense of personal unworthiness increased among the faithful,
chalices and patens became smaller. Fewer people received Communion regularly, and private Masses became common. Liturgical law also began to regulate the materials used—animal horn was forbidden, and gold and silver were preferred to honor the sacred mysteries.

By the twelfth to fifteenth centuries, chalices had become ornate works of art. Elaborate stems, sculpted nodes, precious stones, and architectural designs reflected the splendor of medieval cathedrals. These sacred vessels were handled reverently and often touched only by clergy, communicating the profound holiness of the Eucharist.

The modern era brought yet another shift. Beginning with Pope Pius X and continuing through the Second Vatican Council, the Church renewed its emphasis on active participation by the whole assembly. This required a return from purely “sacred vessels” to “liturgical vessels”—objects beautiful not only for their artistry but because they serve the gathered community. The council reminded the Church that vessels are sacred not simply because of what they are made of, but because they mediate the real presence of Christ in the celebration of the Eucharist.

Today, our vessels continue to proclaim the mystery of Jesus Christ. They honor both His humility and His glory, His presence with His people, and His sacrifice for the salvation of the world. Through them, we glimpse the sacred mystery we celebrate: Emmanuel—God with us—made present at every Mass.

A special thank you to an anonymous donor, who donated all new liturgical vessels for our parish!

In peace,

Fr. Tom Lanza
Pastor, St. Matthias Parish & School

Christ the King

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Thanksgiving: The Gift of Family, Friendship, and Shared Meals

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

As we approach Thanksgiving, our hearts naturally turn to gratitude—for life, for faith, for the blessings we can see and even for those we cannot. Thanksgiving gives us the chance to slow down, to gather, and to remember that we are not meant to live life alone. God designed us for community. From the beginning of creation, when the Lord said, “It is not good for humans to be alone” (Genesis 2:18), to the early Church that “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42), Scripture reminds us that faith flourishes in relationship.

Yet, we live in an age that pulls us away from this truth. Our culture prizes independence and self-sufficiency to the point of isolation. We text more than we talk, scroll more than we listen, and “connect” online while growing distant in person. Many people today feel lonelier than ever—even when surrounded by virtual networks and endless entertainment. Technology, while a gift, can easily become a trap when it replaces real human connection. It’s no wonder that anxiety, depression, and social disconnection are on the rise.

Thanksgiving, then, is a sacred invitation to push back against this tide of individualism. It calls us to gather again—around tables, around memories, around one another. Sharing a meal is more than simply eating; it is an act of communion. When we break bread together, we affirm that we belong to one another. Every shared meal echoes the table of the Lord, where Jesus offered not only food but Himself: “Take and eat, this is my body” (Matthew 26:26). In that moment, Jesus showed us that meals are moments of grace, where ordinary food becomes a sign of extraordinary love.

Think of how many moments in the Gospels happen at a table: the wedding feast at Cana, the home of Martha and Mary, the multiplication of loaves and fishes, and of course, the Last Supper. Jesus knew that when people sit down together, hearts open. Gratitude grows. Forgiveness takes root. Community begins. The table becomes holy ground.

This Thanksgiving, I invite you to make your tables places of encounter. Be intentional. Turn off the screens. Put down the phones. Look into one another’s eyes. Listen deeply. Laugh freely. Pray together before the meal—not as a formality, but as a true act of thanksgiving to the God who provides. Invite someone who might otherwise be alone. It might be a neighbor, a parishioner, or an old friend. Hospitality is a powerful form of evangelization; it speaks the Gospel without words.

This Thanksgiving, may your table be full, your home warm, and your heart grateful. May we as a parish family continue to build the bonds that unite us as the Body of Christ. May we never forget that every act of sharing—every meal, every friendship, every prayer—is a foretaste of the heavenly banquet that awaits us in God’s eternal love.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and your families. May God bless you abundantly in gratitude, joy, and peace.

In peace,

 Fr. Tom Lanza
Pastor, St. Matthias Parish & School

 

Thirty-third Sunday in Ordinary Time

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

National Vocations Awareness Week

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

This past week the Church in the United States celebrated National Vocation Awareness Week, a time set aside to reflect on God’s call in each of our lives and to encourage a culture that supports vocations to the priesthood, diaconate, and religious life. While we often think of “vocation” as referring only to priests or sisters, the truth is that every baptized person has a vocation — a call from God to live in a particular way that leads to holiness and service.

The word vocation comes from the Latin vocare, meaning “to call.” Throughout Scripture, we find that God calls people personally and purposefully. God calls Abraham to leave his homeland and become the father of a great nation (Genesis 12:1–3). He calls Moses from the burning bush to lead His people out of slavery (Exodus 3). The prophets are called to speak God’s word even when it is difficult. In the New Testament, Jesus calls His disciples by name: “Come, follow me” (Matthew 4:19).

A vocation, therefore, is not simply a career choice or a lifestyle preference — it is a divine invitation. God calls each of us to follow Him in a particular way that will bring both personal fulfillment and spiritual fruitfulness to the world. St. Paul writes, “I urge you to live in a manner worthy of the calling you have received” (Ephesians 4:1). That calling takes different forms: marriage, priesthood, religious life, or dedicated single life. Each is a sacred response to God’s initiative of love.

Among all these ways of life, the Church gives special attention to vocations to the priesthood and consecrated life, because through them, Christ continues His mission in a unique and visible way. The priest acts in persona Christi — in the person of Christ — bringing us the sacraments, preaching the Gospel, and shepherding the faithful. Religious brothers and sisters witness to the Kingdom of God by lives of prayer, simplicity, and service.

Our parish has an important role in helping young people hear and respond to God’s call. Here are a few meaningful ways we can do this together:

  1. Pray intentionally for vocations. Jesus Himself told us, “Ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers for His harvest” (Matthew 9:38). Consider offering a Rosary or Holy Hour for vocations each week. Families might include a simple prayer for vocations before meals.
  2. Encourage openness in the young. When we see signs of faith, leadership, or compassion in our young people, we should name it and nurture it. A simple word like “Have you ever thought about becoming a priest?” or “You have the heart of a sister” can plant a powerful seed.
  3. Foster a culture of discernment. Encourage our youth and young adults to ask not, “What do I want to do with my life?” but rather, “What does God want me to do with my life?” Help them to see discernment as a prayerful journey, not a quick decision.
  4. Witness with joy. Perhaps the most persuasive way to promote vocations is for each of us to live our own vocation with faithfulness and joy. When others see the peace and purpose that flow from a life rooted in Christ, they are more likely to ask how they can experience the same.

May the Lord of the harvest bless our parish with many generous hearts willing to say “yes” to His call.

God bless,

Fr. Tom Lanza
Pastor, St. Matthias Parish & School

 

Feast of the Dedication of the Lateran Basilica in Rome

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Gratitude and Discernment for the Future of St. Matthias

Dear Friends in Christ,

As we continue to care for the many blessings entrusted to us at St. Matthias,       I wish to extend my sincere gratitude to all who have supported our Buildings and Grounds initiative and our “Keeping St. Matthias Beautiful” campaign that I introduced this past weekend. Your generosity, dedication, and faith-filled stewardship have allowed us to preserve and enhance the sacred spaces where we gather to worship, serve, and grow in faith.

In 1 Corinthians 3:9, St. Paul reminds us that “we are God’s co-workers; you are God’s field, God’s building.” Each improvement we make—whether large or small—is a reflection of our shared responsibility to care for what God has given us. Through your gifts of time, talent, and treasure, you have demonstrated a deep love for our parish and a hopeful vision for its future.

As we look ahead, we now enter a time of prayerful discernment. Together, we must consider whether the Lord is calling us to embark upon the construction of a new church (which would enable our current church space to be converted back into the gymnasium for the school) or to undertake a major renovation of our existing worship space. This is not merely a practical question of buildings, but a spiritual one—a question of how we best create a place that fosters faith, community, and mission for generations to come.

Let us remember the words of the Psalmist: “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain” (Psalm 127:1). May we therefore entrust this discernment process to God, asking the Holy Spirit to guide our decisions with wisdom, unity, and courage.

I invite every parishioner to continue praying intentionally for our parish and for one another. May our efforts to keep St. Matthias beautiful—both in spirit and in structure—bring glory to God and deepen our witness as a community of faith.

In Peace,

Fr. Tom Lanza
Pastor, St. Matthias Parish & School

 

The Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Souls)

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Dear Friends in Christ,

As we turn the calendar from October to November, the Church invites us into one of the most beautiful and hope-filled moments of the liturgical year: the celebration of All Saints’ Day (November 1) and All Souls’ Day (November 2). These two days are deeply connected—one celebrates the glory of heaven, the other the mercy of God that leads souls there. Together, they remind us of the Church’s great mystery: the Communion of Saints—the living, the dead, and those in glory, all united in Christ’s love.

All Saints’ Day: The Glory of Heaven

The origins of All Saints’ Day go back to the early centuries of Christianity, when believers gathered annually to honor martyrs who gave their lives for the faith. As the number of saints grew, the Church established a universal feast to honor all who had reached heaven—both known and unknown. Pope Gregory III (8th century) dedicated a chapel in St. Peter’s Basilica to all saints, fixing the date as November 1. Pope Gregory IV later extended the celebration to the whole Church.

Theologically, All Saints’ Day is not merely a day to admire holy men and women from afar—it is a celebration of our destiny. The saints show us what humanity looks like when transformed by grace. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches, “The saints have always been the source and origin of renewal in the most difficult moments in the Church’s history” (CCC 828). They were ordinary people who allowed God to do something extraordinary with their lives.

When we celebrate All Saints, we affirm our belief in the resurrection and in the perfection of charity that awaits those who live in friendship with God. The saints remind us that holiness is not a privilege of a few, but a call for all. “This is the will of God: your sanctification” (1 Thessalonians 4:3).

All Souls’ Day: The Mercy of God and the Hope of Resurrection

The following day, November 2, the Church tenderly turns her gaze to those who have died but are still being purified—our brothers and sisters in Purgatory. The tradition of praying for the dead is ancient; as early as the second century, Christians were offering prayers and Eucharistic intentions for those who had “fallen asleep in Christ.”

All Souls’ Day was formalized in the 11th century when the Benedictine abbey of Cluny dedicated a day of prayer for all the departed. The practice spread throughout Europe and eventually became universal. This feast reminds us that death does not sever the bonds of love formed in Christ. Our prayers, sacrifices, and Masses for the deceased are acts of charity that assist them on their journey toward the fullness of heaven.

In the words of Pope Benedict XVI, “Purgatory is not a place of punishment, but the soul’s interior process of being made capable of Christ’s love.” It is a state of hope—of longing purified by grace. On this day, we remember that God’s mercy is greater than our sin, and that love truly endures beyond the grave.

A Season of Gratitude and Hope

As we visit cemeteries, light candles, or attend Mass for the departed, we participate in the mystery of eternal life. The Church reminds us that we are “surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses” (Hebrews 12:1), cheering us on as we make our own pilgrimage of faith.

May this sacred season renew our hope in the resurrection and our gratitude for those who have gone before us. The saints inspire us; the souls in purgatory need us; and together we belong to a single family in Christ—a communion that death cannot divide.

“Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls, and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.” Amen.

In peace,

Fr. Tom Lanza
Pastor, St. Matthias Parish & School

Thirtieth Sunday in Ordinary Time

Posted on by Nathalie Godet

 

Balancing Tradition and Forward Progress in Our Missionary Call

Dear Friends in Christ,

One of the great challenges and blessings of our Catholic faith is holding together two powerful realities: our deep and ancient Tradition and our ongoing call to renewal and evangelization. The Church, like a living body, breathes with both lungs—rooted in the wisdom of the past, yet ever moving forward under the guidance of the Holy Spirit.

From the very beginning, Jesus Christ entrusted His mission to the apostles, commanding them: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). That missionary mandate has not changed in over two thousand years. Yet the world around us has changed dramatically. The Church of the early martyrs looked different from that of the medieval cathedrals; the Church of the Reformation era looked different still. Today, in our digital, globalized, and often secular world, we are once again called to live out the unchanging Gospel in new and creative ways.

To balance Tradition and progress, we must first understand what Tradition truly means. In Catholic theology, “Tradition” (with a capital “T”) is not merely about preserving customs or styles; it is about the living transmission of faith itself. As the Second Vatican Council taught in Dei Verbum, the Word of God “is handed on from the apostles to their successors so that, enlightened by the Spirit of truth, they may faithfully preserve, expound, and spread it.” Tradition is alive because Christ is alive. It is the ongoing conversation between God and His people through the ages.

At the same time, we must remember that fidelity to Tradition does not mean immobility. The Spirit who inspired the apostles still speaks to the Church today. Vatican II’s Evangelii Nuntiandi and more recently Pope Francis’ Evangelii Gaudium remind us that the Church must be “permanently in a state of mission.” Our task is not to guard a museum, but to open doors—to allow the treasures of our faith to shine in a world hungry for meaning, beauty, and truth.

This tension between preservation and progress is not something to be feared but embraced. Think of a tree: its roots run deep into the soil, drawing life from what lies hidden below. Yet those same roots allow it to grow upward, to branch out, to reach toward the light. Without roots, the tree withers; without growth, it dies. So it is with the Church. Our rootedness in Sacred Scripture, the Sacraments, and the teachings of the Magisterium keeps us grounded. But our outreach, innovation, and missionary creativity allow that life to bear fruit in the present age.

For us at the parish level, this means being attentive both to the sacred and the contemporary. We must cherish our liturgy, our devotions, and our sacred traditions—not because they are old, but because they connect us to Christ and the communion of saints. Yet we must also look for new ways to share the Gospel—with our families, our schools, our workplaces, and especially with those who have drifted away from the faith. Digital media, service opportunities, and personal invitation can all become instruments of evangelization when animated by love.

The key is discernment. Not every new idea serves the Gospel, but neither does every old practice automatically preserve it. The measure is always Christ Himself: does this draw people closer to Him? Does it help us love God and neighbor more deeply?

Let us, then, move forward together—anchored in the timeless truth of our faith, yet open to the fresh wind of the Spirit who makes all things new.

With gratitude and hope,

Fr. Tom Lanza
Pastor, St. Matthias Parish & School