Archive for August, 2026

Our King’s Chief Steward

August 22, 2026

21st Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

Seven centuries before Christ, Judea’s most powerful government official beneath the king was a man named Shebna. He was called the “master of the palace,” literally “the one who is over the house.” Some modern translations call him the “royal steward” or the king’s “prime minister.” The master of the palace for a Davidic king would wear a robe and sash and carry a large key over his shoulder. A kingdom’s great gates and doors required massive locks, and large keys were used to open and close them. Like awarding someone today “The Key to the City,” the key on the royal steward’s shoulder was a sign of honor; however, it was also a sign of real authority, since the master of the palace could command others under the king. He controlled entry into the royal palace and therefore controlled who had access to the king. He managed the kingdom’s wealth and lands, and would govern during periods of the king’s absence. How vast was the master of the palace’s power in the kingdom? He wielded extraordinary power, but if he were to command something which the king disapproved of, the king could readily remove and replace him.

Our first reading from the Prophet Isaiah contains an oracle from the Lord declaring that Shebna would be thrown down from his office. The word of the Lord begins by noting how Shebna had had a luxurious tomb dug for himself while the kingdom was still under threat from the Assyrians. (That tomb was likely rediscovered in Jerusalem’s eastern slope in 1870; its burial inscription for one “who is over the house” is preserved today in the British Museum.) The Lord asks Shebna, “You have hewn for yourself a tomb here, hewing a tomb on high, carving a resting place in the rock?” The Lord was greatly displeased with Shebna’s stewardship, declaring, “I will thrust you from your office and pull you down from your station.” And the Lord had already chosen his replacement: “On that day I will summon my servant Eliakim, son of Hilkiah; I will clothe him with your robe, gird him with your sash, confer on him your authority. He shall be a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and to the house of Judah. I will place the key of the House of David on his shoulder; what he opens, no one will shut, what he shuts, no one will open. I will fix him as a peg in a firm place, a seat of honor…”

Now fast-forward to the time of Christ’s public ministry. Jesus asks his disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” And his disciple, Simon the fisherman, replies, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” And Jesus says to him in reply, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah. For flesh and blood has not revealed this to you, but my heavenly Father. And so I say to you, you are Peter…” Jesus changes Simon’s name literally to “Rock.” The name “Peter” or “Petros” is unseen as a personal name in the ancient world until Jesus gives this name to Simon. And God changed people’s names very rarely in salvation history, just Abraham, Sarah, Jacob, and here with Simon; so we know this is a big deal. Then Jesus declares, “[U]pon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of the netherworld shall not prevail against it. I will give you the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven. Whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven.

Perhaps you now already recognize the revealing parallels here. Shebna had hewn a tomb for his death in the rock of Old Jerusalem. Peter is the rock upon which will be built the New Jerusalem, Christ’s life-giving Church. Eliakim (Shebna’s replacement) would receive “the key of the House of David on his shoulder,” such that, “what he opens, no one will shut, [and] what he shuts, no one will open.” Simon Peter receives “the keys to the Kingdom of Heaven,” such that, ‘whatever he binds on earth shall be bound in heaven; and whatever he looses on earth shall be loosed in heaven.’ So both receive kingdom keys and a chief steward’s authority. Eliakim was given “a seat of honor,” fixed “as a peg in a firm place,” but he would not be the last or final royal steward. Others after Eliakim would occupy his same office as prime minister to the Davidic king. St. Peter was given a seat of honor and great responsibility in the Kingdom of God by the new Davidic King, Jesus Christ. And the early Church considered the successors to St. Peter as bishop of Rome to be inheritors of his office. Eliakim was, in the words of the Lord, “a father to the inhabitants of Jerusalem, and to the house of Judah.” We call St. Peter and his successors “popes,” a word related to “papa” or “daddy.” And popes are “Holy Fathers” for the household of God, the Church.

Is it possible for a pope to sin, to give bad example, or to manage Church affairs poorly? Certainly. But Jesus’ assurance that whatever his chief steward binds on earth would be bound in heaven guarantees the pope will never bind his Church to heresies. We see how various Christians can read one and the same Bible verse and produce many contradicting interpretations. Christ knew that without a clear and reliable teaching authority for his Church we would inevitably scatter like sheep without a shepherd. So say a prayer for Pope Leo, our successor to St. Peter who governs Christ’s one, holy, catholic, and apostolic Church. And give thanks to God that his chief steward, guarded by the Holy Spirit, provides the Catholic Church a rock foundation until the return of Christ our King.

Faith Definition

August 15, 2026

20th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Deacon Dick Kostner

Faith means strong trust, confidence, or belief in someone or something — often without needing proof — According to Noah Webster the creator of the American Dictionary. Our Gospel story this weekend teaches us that miracles in this world can happen if we but have faith in Jesus even if we are not members of the Jewish community. We can learn to have trust, confidence and belief in Jesus and yes even proof in Jesus if we learn to only watch and listen to his children, his friends, who he gifts with wisdom and proof of his existence. But how do we find those gifted persons who he gifts with this knowledge?

I became more aware of my call to be a Deacon through the relationships that I have had with ordained priests that I have grown up with in my 77 years of life. I began to have a call to make friends with priests when I was in high school. Our Parish in those days had assistant young priests who served Bloomer and I began to desire to learn more about them so I decided that they should be invited to gatherings and “get togethers” with my school friends. We would many times have cook outs in the summer to just stay in touch with each other while schools was out for summer vacation. This turned out to be good for we learned that these guys were not “strange” but rather just regular normal guys who desired to serve others for their life vocation. While most of us were trying to figure out what we could do to get a job to make money, these priest guys were desirous to just be present and help others have a joyful and peaceful life through faith in Jesus. So I continued to have priests as friends as I studied to be a lawyer and ultimately became one and began serving others with answers to legal issues for some 51 years.

I don’t believe that one can have faith in another unless there exists a relationship between those individuals . It is through communication and mentorship that one develops faith by and through experiences faith seekers encounter in both good and not so good life happenings and events. How does one develop a relationship with God? The first and most important way is by talking to God. The Church calls this prayer. We can talk to God not only with a voice like we talk to each other, or when we participate in the celebration of his Mass, or, we can talk to God with our thoughts and mind. Either way we then need to understand what I call the language of God in order to understand his response to our communication or prayer.

Because God is Spirit we usually will not see His image although this has occurred to many people we call Saints. In most cases my experience is that God likes us to invite his presence in our everyday experiences. If we learn to be inviting for not only things we want, but also for times when we don’t know how to respond to a situation or we are praying for others, we will witness God giving us a response quicker than if our prayer is asking for something we want a quick answer to problems not that important to anyone except to ourselves. You will hear me say the phrase: “God does not have a watch or calendar there is no yesterday or tomorrow for God for he has no beginning or end thus time means nothing to him.” Which brings us back to another way God speaks to us.

God speaks to us through his followers whom he calls “his children, mother, brother or sister or His Church.” Let me give you an example. Barb and I recently attended a wedding for a grandniece of mine and I was asked if I would say a prayer before the attendants began eating. Just before I was called for the prayer my nephew, the father of the bride, told a story about how he acquired his nickname. The story was, I would say, “off-color a bit.” Not surprising to me knowing him well, but not a good way to begin prayer. I introduced myself as a Deacon for 27 years, and also a part of the Kostner family. I said that my nephew’s story would be a hard act to follow but I would try. I then told the story of how Jesus was called by his mother to begin his public ministry at a wedding he was attending by supplying more wine for the celebration for the wedding couple when it had run out. Jesus told his mother that it was not his time but she told the waiters to do as he asks. He then did as his mom had requested. I told the attendants that Jesus loved weddings and people celebrating marriage. I told them that he loved parties and yes wine and that I thought he should be invited to join the celebration. So, I began the prayer by inviting Jesus to come and join us for the celebration and I concluded with the meal prayer. I had numerous people come up to me and thank me for that prayer. That was Jesus talking to me, telling me that I had “done good.”

The bottom line for today’s Gospel lesson is be patient and persistent in prayer, and have faith and you will get answers to your prayers and maybe even a miracle, or at least, some wine.

The Bridegroom — The Noah Cahak & Antoinette Sonnentag Wedding

August 10, 2026

By Fr. Victor Feltes

When I went to seminary in preparation for the priesthood, they had us study philosophy before studying theology. One reason for this was so we could better understand how people have thought in the past and present and might more effectively proclaim Christian truths today. This homily will begin more philosophically than usual, but its purpose is to lead toward the truths of Christ.

In our first reading from the Book of Tobit, we hear Tobiah praying with his wife on their wedding night. He says, “Blessed are you, O God of our ancestors… Let the heavens and all your creation bless you forever. You made Adam, and you made his wife Eve to be his helper and support; and from these two the human race has come. You said, ‘It is not good for the man to be alone; let us make him a helper like himself.’” Man and woman were made for each other. Both despite and because of our differences, men and women are drawn to each other in love and our natures complement each other. This is beautifully seen in the birth of children. Parents experience the gift of new children with wonder and joy. But a critic might dismiss all this.

The instincts of warthogs and walruses attract them to their mates too, and female insects can hatch hundreds of offspring in a lifetime.” The critic might dismiss all human love and life as merely the results of natural laws with no divine designer necessary. A critic might look at our providential place within this complex universe and argue, “It’s no miracle that a puddle perfectly fills its pothole.” But why are nature’s laws the way they are rather than something else entirely? We can imagine alternate laws of nature for universes which would allow nothing interesting to exist. Why do we have fine-tuned natural laws which permit the marvelous things we see? And why is there anything rather than nothing? What is the explanation, the logic, the logos behind our universe?

In our second reading from the Letter to the Romans, we hear St. Paul exhorting Christians to act nobly. He says, “Offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God… Let love be sincere; hate what is evil, hold on to what is good; love one another with mutual affection…” These high moral callings accord with our consciences. Even in our human weakness, they resonate with the deep longings of our hearts. The critic might dismiss these human experiences too, seeing them as just more instincts bred by natural selection. But if right and wrong and our perceptions of value are nothing more than feelings, mere biases built into us by survival in an indifferent universe, why should we care or be ruled by those delusions? We long for true meaning, but if everything will end in death — you and me and everything — what difference does anything make in the long run? Are good, evil, and meaning real or just nothing more than “feels”? I believe the choice before us all is ultimately either belief in nothing (nihilism) or belief in Christ (Catholicism).

Not once upon a time, but in real history, the Creator entered his creation. The Author appeared inside his story as its Main Character. Entering time as man into the center of our history, Jesus Christ declares himself “the Bridegroom.” He comes to wed his Bride, the Church. In our Gospel, Jesus teaches how “from the beginning the Creator made them male and female” and said, “…the two shall become one flesh… So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore, what God has joined together, man must not separate.

As the innocent New Adam, afflicted with thorns but naked without shame, Jesus’ obedience to God is tested at a tree. The Cross is the New Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil; however, if we eat from the Fruit of this tree, we can live forever. Eve was made for communion with God and Adam. The Church was made for communion with God and Christ. It is not good for mankind to be alone. Jesus Christ comes to reveal God’s truth and love for us anew, to reveal the reality of goodness and to conquer death. He calls you to seek and know him, to love and serve him, so that you are no longer two, but one flesh. And if you and Christ are already joined, this union you must not separate. Noah and Annie, remain in Christ, for only in him can you live and love in marriage as you ought. As St. John wrote: “God is love. Let us love one another, as God has loved us.

Sent Into The Wind

August 8, 2026

19th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

After he had fed the people, Jesus made the disciples get into a boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds.” Jesus “made” the apostles get into the boat and depart. In the Greek, Jesus “made them / compelled them / constrained them” to go. Why were they so reluctant to leave? It could simply be that they did not want to be apart from Jesus, but there may be another reason for their hesitation.

Peter, Andrew, James, and John were experienced fishermen who had worked many nights on those Sea of Galilee waters. Jesus was asking them to sail a few miles west across the sea toward Capernaum. When they felt the evening air and looked at the western sky, perhaps they foresaw that the wind and the waves could be strong that night. Besides leaving Jesus behind, the apostles might have been reluctant to be out on the water. Nevertheless, he commanded and they went.

After doing so, [Jesus] went up on the mountain by himself to pray. When it was evening he was there alone. Meanwhile the boat, already a considerable distance offshore, was being tossed about by the waves, for the wind was against it.

When I visited Israel ten years ago this fall, it was great to gain a truer sense of sites I had read about in Scripture, like the compactness of the Old City of Jerusalem or the relative smallness of the Sea of Galilee. When you envision “the Sea of Galilee,” perhaps you imagine the view across an ocean or one of our Great Lakes where the opposite shores are out of sight beyond the horizon. But in comparison to them, the Sea of Galilee is tiny. Even Wisconsin’s Lake Winnebago is 30 miles in length while the Sea of Galilee, north to south, is just 13 miles. When you stand on its rocky shores you can see the various low mountains surrounding it. Sitting on one of those hillsides a person could watch a boat as it sailed across the sea to the opposite shore.

Jesus was praying alone on a mountainside. The apostles did not see Jesus with them but he was watching them and prayed for them as they were tossed about by waves and sailed against the wind. Likewise, even when we are struggling in the dark, Jesus sees us and intercedes for us.

During the fourth watch of the night, [between 3 and 6 AM,] Jesus came toward them walking on the sea. When the disciples saw him walking on the sea they were terrified. ‘It is a ghost,’ they said, and they cried out in fear. At once Jesus spoke to them, ‘Take courage, it is I; do not be afraid.’”

In the Gospels, Jesus arguably says variations of “Fear not / Be not afraid” more frequently than he says anything else. And notice how that is not merely his suggestion; it’s a command. Jesus does not want fears preventing us from having peace and doing his will. Peter acted boldly, at least at first. He asked and was invited to walk with Jesus on the water. “But when he saw how strong the wind was he became frightened; and beginning to sink, he cried out, ‘Lord, save me!’ Jesus immediately stretched out his hand and caught Peter, and said to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’ After [Peter and Jesus] got into the boat, the wind died down.

Now here is what struck me most when I read this story this time around. Jesus did not have to send his disciples out across that chaotic sea; he chose to. And as he watched them struggle against the wind and waves, Jesus could have commanded the forces of nature to be still as he did on another occasion with the sea; but this time he chose not to. Jesus is able to walk on water and he welcomes Peter to join him, giving his disciple an opportunity to exercise his trust and virtues. When Peter falters, Jesus pulls him up, and once they reboard the boat together, the wind dies down; for it had served its providential purpose.

Jesus Christ’s will for us in this life is not endless ease. Rather, he desires our greatness. For that purpose, he sends us and calls us to places we might not wish to go; permitting challenges for our greater good and glory. Truly, as his disciples said, Jesus Christ is the Son of God. He sees us, he’s almighty, and he loves us. So why ever be afraid?

Mourning With Jesus

August 1, 2026

18th Sunday in Ordinary Time
By Fr. Victor Feltes

He was persecuted for preaching the truth. Though he had done nothing wrong, he was hated. They arrested and imprisoned this righteous and holy man, and when questioned, his answers would confound the questioner. The secular ruler was reluctant to put this man to death, but in the end, bowing to social pressure, he ordered his unjust execution. After his death, his disciples took their teacher’s body, laid it in a tomb, and mourned him. This death, this murder, this martyrdom of St. John the Baptist was mourned by Jesus too.

Recall that John the Baptist was Jesus’ relative and friend. In John’s Passion and death, Jesus could see a foreshadowing of his own. Jesus weeps at the tomb of Lazarus, but Lazarus died from a natural illness and was resurrected soon after. John the Baptist’s death was caused by the wicked, the direct result of chosen sins. And Jesus mourned him realizing he would never see John again in this life.

When Jesus heard of the death of John the Baptist, he withdrew in a boat to a deserted place by himself. The crowds heard of this and followed him on foot from their towns.” When Jesus arrived, “disembarked, and saw the vast crowd, his heart was moved with pity for them, and he cured their sick.” Then Jesus fed them all using five loaves of bread and two fish; the only miracle (besides his Resurrection) which is recorded by all four Gospels. Then Jesus “made the disciples get into the boat and precede him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowds. Then [Jesus] went up on the mountain by himself to pray, [and] when it was evening, he was there by himself.

Jesus and his disciples experienced times of mourning. We and our loved ones will experience times of mourning, too. In today’s Gospel, Jesus Christ, our model for our Christian life, provides us lessons for such seasons.

First, Jesus took time to mourn and it was not selfish for him to do so. He withdrew to mourn and spend time alone, but in that solitude he prayed. Many psalms and Old Testament scenes have God’s faithful voicing their painful laments to God. Jesus Christ, the Son of God, even though he was divine, prayed to God as man. He did this for personal consolation and that others would be helped. Remember to pray for the souls of the departed and feel free to speak to them, for I am convinced that not even death can entirely separate those who are in Christ.

When Jesus arrived at that desolate place and found the large crowd, his heart was moved with pity. Without suggesting any fault in Jesus, sometimes our sufferings can make us more sensitive to the sufferings of others. Jesus does not close in on himself. He goes outside himself to serve others. How do you think it felt for Jesus to help so many (perhaps while experiencing feelings of such powerlessness)? It was a consolation to him. Going out beyond ourselves can help in healing a mournful heart.

Sometimes when we know someone is mourning, we give them so much respectful space they end up being treated like lepers. The crowds (whether conscious of Jesus’ burdens or not) approached him like before and those encounters blessed them both. So do not be afraid to ask them a favor, offer an invite, or give them a gift; since we see such things can help them. And if they decline, don’t take it personally. Jesus’ friends brought him a meal of five loaves and two fish, and doing that did a world of good.

Jesus experienced times of mourning and we will too. Take time to mourn in solitude but keep close company with God in prayer and pray for the departed. Do not simply close in on yourself but go beyond yourself for others. And approach those who are mourning to offer healthy encounters and opportunities. It pained Jesus to be so tragically separated from his dear one, John, but Christ promises God’s people who mourn will be comforted. And these trials make us more like Jesus Christ, who consoles others. As St. Paul told the Corinthians: “[God] comforts us in all of our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.” Jesus mourned like us. Let us mourn like him.

Living the Beatitudes Daily — Funeral Homily for Raynelda Jaworski, 96

August 1, 2026

By Fr. Anandan “Rajan” Rajendran

Today we gather with both sorrow and gratitude. We grieve because someone we loved is no longer physically with us. Yet we also gather with hope because our faith tells us that death is not the end. Jesus Christ has conquered death, and through Him eternal life is promised to those who believe. Today we thank God for the beautiful gift of Raynelda Shaurette Jaworski—a woman who lived for more than ninety-six years with faith, courage, generosity, creativity, and love. Her life was long, but more importantly, it was full. It was a life that touched countless hearts.

The first reading from the Book of Ecclesiastes reminds us that everything in this world has its season. There is “a time to be born and a time to die.” These words remind us that our earthly lives are gifts entrusted to us for a time. None of us lives forever in this world, but what truly matters is how we use the time God gives us. Raynelda used her years remarkably well. She was first a loving wife to Stanley, sharing seventy-seven years of marriage and building a home centered on faith. Together they raised ten children on their dairy farm in New Auburn. Farming teaches patience, sacrifice, hard work, and trust in God. Every spring a farmer plants seeds, believing that one day there will be a harvest. Raynelda’s greatest harvest was not measured in acres or milk production but in the beautiful family she nurtured—children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and countless friends whose lives she enriched.

She had an extraordinary gift of making people feel welcomed. Her home was a place where people found warmth, delicious food, laughter, and acceptance. Many of us remember her homemade bread, cookies, kolaczki, and especially her famous “Grandma Pancakes.” Yet what made those meals unforgettable was not simply the food but the love with which they were prepared. She sang, danced, laughed, and filled her kitchen with joy. She understood something very important: love is often expressed in simple, ordinary acts. Jesus Himself often revealed God’s love around a table. Meals became moments of grace. Raynelda followed that same example in her own home.

Her love extended far beyond her own family. As Director of the New Auburn Head Start program, she dedicated herself to helping children and struggling families. Even after raising ten children, she returned to school to earn a certificate in Social Services so she could serve others even better. That says something about her heart. She never stopped learning because she never stopped loving. She served on school boards, educational organizations, community groups, and many volunteer activities. Wherever there was a need, Raynelda was willing to help.

Today’s Gospel gives us the beautiful Beatitudes from the Sermon on the Mount. “Blessed are the poor in spirit… Blessed are the merciful… Blessed are the pure of heart… Blessed are the peacemakers.” These are not simply beautiful sayings. They are the portrait of a Christian disciple. As we reflect on Raynelda’s life, we recognize many of these Beatitudes lived out before our eyes. Blessed are the merciful. She showed mercy by caring for families, comforting neighbors, encouraging friends, and praying daily for others. Blessed are the pure of heart. Her faith was genuine. She attended Mass faithfully, prayed the Rosary, and entrusted every day to God. Blessed are the peacemakers. She united people. Her warmth drew strangers into friendship. Her home became a gathering place where people felt loved. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. She sought goodness not only in church but in everyday life, serving her community and helping those in need.

The Beatitudes remind us that holiness is not reserved only for saints whose statues stand in churches. Holiness is found in ordinary people who quietly practice extraordinary love every day. Raynelda showed us that holiness can be found in raising children, baking bread, helping neighbors, comforting families, creating beautiful works of art, and faithfully praying each morning. One particularly beautiful part of her life was her artistic talent. She painted, quilted, created pottery, and searched for precious stones across the country. Her large painting of Our Lady of Guadalupe hanging for decades in St. Jude’s Church became a visible sign of her devotion to Mary and her love for beauty. Artists often help us see beauty where others see ordinary things. God is the greatest artist of all, and today we trust that the Artist who created Raynelda has now completed His masterpiece and calls her home.

Our second reading from St. Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians offers tremendous comfort. “We know that the One who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also.” Paul continues by comparing our earthly life to a tent. Tents are temporary. They shelter us for a while, but they are not our permanent home. God has prepared for us “a building from God, a dwelling not made with hands, eternal in heaven.” Raynelda’s earthly tent has served her well for ninety-six years. It carried her through motherhood, farming, service, laughter, hardships, celebrations, and prayer. Now that earthly tent has reached its end. But God has prepared something infinitely greater—an eternal home where there is no pain, no suffering, no aging, and no tears.

As Christians, funerals are never simply about looking backward. They are about looking forward with hope. Today we entrust Raynelda to the mercy of God. We believe that the same Jesus who welcomed the little children, who blessed the poor, who comforted the sorrowful, now opens His arms to welcome His faithful servant. To her beloved children, grandchildren, great-grandson, sister, relatives, and many friends: thank you for sharing Raynelda with this community. Her greatest legacy is not only the beautiful paintings she created, the quilts she stitched, or the meals she prepared. Her greatest legacy is the love she planted in each of you. One day, every loaf of bread grows stale, every painting fades, every quilt wears thin, and every farm changes hands. But love never dies. As St. Paul reminds us elsewhere, “Love never fails.” That love continues today because it came from God, and it leads back to God.

Finally, I cannot help but imagine Raynelda arriving at the gates of heaven. Perhaps she is greeted first by Stanley, whom she loved so dearly. Perhaps Matthew comes running to embrace his mother. And perhaps Jesus Himself says the words every faithful disciple longs to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servant. Come, share your Master’s joy.” May that be her reward today. And may her remarkable life remind each one of us to live with deeper faith, greater generosity, joyful service, and unwavering hope, so that one day we may all be reunited in the Father’s house, where every tear will be wiped away and love will last forever.

Eternal rest grant unto her, O Lord. And let perpetual light shine upon her. May she rest in peace. Amen.