Shirley Baker Can’t Read
Rethinking the Pillar of Hospitality
Do we sometimes make the pillar of hospitality harder than it needs to be?
Digital Discipleship: Bringing the Gospel to Social Media - REPLAY
The Sacred Power of Ordinary Moments
The Sacred Power of Ordinary Moments
How small acts of sharing shape lives more than we realize
I would reckon most readers have heard the song Wildfire by Michael Martin Murphey.
Should Our Parishes Become More Like Walmart?
Now that I have your attention… let’s try a little thought experiment.
How many times has your local Walmart reinvented itself in your lifetime?
Three times? Four? Maybe more?
Was the Sandlot Sacred?
Have you seen The Sandlot? If you haven’t, put it on your list. It’s become a classic—an awkward new kid, a group of neighborhood boys, and a dusty baseball lot that becomes the center of their summer universe.
It’s a movie that takes us back. I didn’t play baseball like they did, but I had my own “sandlot.”
Didn’t we all?
A place where life was simple, where we were innocent and unpolished, where we learned lessons from adventures. A place of pure joy. (We may also look back and ask, “It is a wonder no one got hurt”)
For me, that place was Ron’s pond.
I was 15 when I started working on Ron’s farm. I thought I knew what I was doing. I did not. I learned how to work those summers—changing irrigation water, rouging fields, packing wheel bearings, mowing tons of grass. And after the first big rain, I discovered runoff ponds.
The runoff pond in summer was our paradise. That became our sandlot.
We didn’t need baseball. We had music blasting from my ’81 Silverado, a floating dock we “borrowed” parts to build, and a crew of friends who showed up whenever someone said, “Meet at Ron’s pond at 8.”
Those nights were sacred.
Not because we were holy—we were ornery, loud, and had our own unspoken code of conduct—but because everyone belonged. No pressure, no expectations, no status. Just friendship, laughter, and a place to be ourselves.
As I look back, I realize something:
Sacred lives in the ordinary.
Jesus is not only present in stained glass and churches. He shows up at ponds, around tables, in shops, trucks, living rooms, and backyards. The holy isn’t rare—it’s woven through our everyday lives. We just have to notice it.
That’s the heart of stewardship:
recognizing God in what looks ordinary, and responding with gratitude and love.
Ron’s pond was my sandlot.
What’s yours?
Where is that place—past or present—where Jesus has been waiting, quietly, in the ordinary?
Living Stewardship in the Heart of Renewal
Living Stewardship in the Heart of Renewal
We are right in the middle of stewardship renewal season. How are you doing? In the last issue I spoke about stewardship renewal the same way we renew our wedding vows at the diocesan matrimony anniversary Mass or during Easter when we renew our baptismal promises.
Perhaps you’re taking time to reflect and pray, preparing to make your written commitment on Commitment Sunday. That might look like visiting a parishioner who can’t attend Mass anymore, volunteering for a ministry you’ve always admired, or simply greeting someone you don’t know before Mass begins. Small actions rooted in love change both our hearts and our communities.
“Stewardship isn’t meant to live on paper—it’s meant to live in us.”
As we continue to prepare for Commitment Sunday, think small. Give thanks daily for the blessings God has entrusted to you. Each small step is a way of saying “yes” again to the renewal we made together.
When Commitment Sunday arrives, may our commitments take root in daily life—so that stewardship becomes not just a season, but a way of living and loving all year long.
Commitment Sunday is coming soon! Pray, reflect, and renew your “yes” to God’s call to share your time, abilities, and alms with joy.
We Made It! Commitment Sunday Is Almost Here
We Made It! Commitment Sunday Is Almost Here
We made it! Commitment Sunday is just days away.
So far, we’ve talked about the need for renewal and how our commitment is something deeper than a form or piece of paper.
But what if my parish doesn’t have a formal stewardship process?
I bet you’re already living stewardship in a variety of ways—just not naming it as such. Here’s a simple exercise to see how stewardship already lives in you.
On a sheet of paper, make five columns with these headings: Hospitality, Prayer, Formation, Service, and Evangelization.
Under each heading, write what you do both in and out of your parish. For example, if you’ve listened to a Catholic podcast or read a faith-based book, and then shared it with a friend, that’s Formation and Evangelization.
If you sent a religious card to a friend for their wedding, that could be Hospitality and Evangelization.
Because we are baptized, we are disciples. And being disciples makes us stewards. All our acts of giving and receiving are acts of stewardship.
In the last article, I encouraged you to think small. Once you’ve done this exercise, ask yourself: What is one thing I can do to go a little deeper?
Maybe it’s a retreat like ACTS, participating in Tuesdays with the Diocese or Pastoral Ministry Formation, volunteering with Catholic Charities, or simply praying intentionally for vocations.
“Living as a steward is the grateful response of a Christian disciple who receives God’s gifts, then shares them in love.”
As we close this season of renewal, I wish you peace, hope, love, and joy.