Over the past several weeks, I have been reflecting on the changing seasons in the life of St. Michael Parish. I have also introduced the work of our Property Task Force, which is beginning to assess our buildings and facilities so that we can establish priorities and develop a responsible plan for the future. These reflections have generated considerable conversation among parishioners, which was precisely my hope. Some of that conversation has been encouraging and constructive. Some has involved speculation and rumors. That is perhaps inevitable whenever we begin discussing changes to places that people have known and loved for generations. But I believe these conversations are important. Before we can make wise decisions about the future, we need a shared understanding of our present circumstances.

This Sunday, we celebrate the Solemnity of All Saints, honoring those who have gone before us in faith and now share in the glory of heaven. The saints remind us that holiness extends beyond prayer and worship. It must also shape how we treat others, participate in society, and fulfill our responsibilities as citizens.

As October draws to a close and winter approaches, we have been reflecting on the changing seasons, not only in the weather but also in the life of St. Michael Parish. We began with the familiar words of Ecclesiastes: “There is an appointed time for everything.” A time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to tear down and a time to build.

Throughout October, we have been reflecting on the changing seasons, both in the weather and in the life of St. Michael Parish. We have considered the challenges of maintaining our buildings and preparing responsibly for the future. But beneath these practical concerns is a more fundamental question: What does it mean to be a faithful and fruitful parish in the season we are living in today?

Last week, I reflected on the changing seasons and the need to ask what God is doing in this particular season of the life of St. Michael Parish. Autumn gives us another lesson: once we recognize that the season is changing, we have to prepare for what comes next.

October in Maine makes it difficult to ignore the changing seasons. The mornings are cooler, the days are shorter, and leaves that were green only a few weeks ago are beginning to turn. There is beauty in this season precisely because things do not remain the same.

Last week, I reflected on the practice of praying the St. Michael Prayer after Mass. This week, with the Feast of Sts. Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael coming on September 29, I would like to look more closely at the saint whose name our parish bears.

Recently, someone asked me about the practice of praying the St. Michael Prayer after some Masses. Is it something we should be doing? Is it part of the Mass? With the Feast of the Archangels—Sts. Michael, Gabriel, and Raphael—coming at the end of the month, it seems like a good time to reflect a little on this prayer and its relationship to the Mass.

Recently, someone asked me about the custom of adding the words, “and for the prayers we hold quietly in our hearts,” at the end of the General Intercessions at Mass. They wondered why sometimes we say it and sometimes we do not. It is a good question, and it gives us an opportunity to return to something we reflected on a few weeks ago: the priestly role of the baptized.

Recently, someone asked me about the custom of adding the words, “and for the prayers we hold quietly in our hearts,” at the end of the General Intercessions at Mass. They wondered why sometimes we say it and sometimes we do not. It is a good question, and it gives us an opportunity to return to something we reflected on a few weeks ago: the priestly role of the baptized.

Over the past several weeks, we have reflected on the identity and mission of the laity: who they are, where their mission is lived, and how the baptized share in Christ’s threefold mission as Priest, Prophet, and King. This week, as we conclude the series, we turn to the kingly office.

We have been reflecting on the vocation of the laity. We began with who the laity are: baptized members of Christ’s Body. We then considered where their mission is lived: in the vineyard of family life, work, culture, and the wider world. Last week, we reflected on the baptismal priesthood or how the faithful bring the world to God by offering their ordinary lives through the one sacrifice of Christ. This week, we turn to the second dimension of Christ’s threefold mission: the prophetic.

Over the past several weeks, we have been reflecting on the vocation of the laity. We began with who the laity are: baptized members of Christ’s Body. Last week, we considered where their mission is lived: in the vineyard of family life, work, culture, and the wider world. Through Baptism, the faithful share in the threefold mission of Christ as Priest, Prophet, and King. This week, let us focus on what it means to share in His priesthood.

Last week, we reflected on who the laity are. Through Baptism, lay men and women are incorporated into Christ and share in His priestly, prophetic, and kingly mission. They are not simply Catholics who are “not priests,” nor merely assistants to the clergy. They have their own indispensable part in the Church’s mission. This week, we ask where that mission is ordinarily lived.

Last week, we began reflecting on “the other 99.4 percent of the week.” There are 168 hours in a week, and Sunday Mass represents about 0.6 percent. The Eucharist is the source and summit of the Christian life, but it must shape the other 167 hours. Each week, we bring our lives to the altar and carry Christ from the altar into the world. This is at the heart of the lay vocation.

There are 168 hours in a week. If we spend about one hour at Sunday Mass, that represents roughly 0.6 percent of our time. The Church expects us to participate in Mass each Sunday, and for good reason. The Second Vatican Council teaches that the Eucharist is the “source and summit of the Christian life.” But what are we called to do during the other 167 hours—the other 99.4 percent?

In this Sunday’s first reading, God says to Solomon, “Ask something of me and I will give it to you.” Solomon could have asked for wealth, long life, power, or victory over his enemies. Instead, he asks for “an understanding heart” so that he might govern well the people God has entrusted to him. Solomon understands that leadership is not primarily about privilege. It is about responsibility. He knows that the people are not his possession; they belong to God. His task is to serve them faithfully, discern what is right, and seek their good.

Over the past several weeks, we have been reflecting on an overlooked aspect of discipleship: Christ gives His followers “power over unclean spirits.” We began by noting that the devil of reality is not always the devil of the movies. He is usually far more subtle. His power is limited because he is a creature, not God’s equal. In the end, much of the power he has over us is the power we surrender to him.

Over the past few weeks, we have reflected on the devil’s ordinary tactics, the four D’s: deception, division, diversion, and discouragement. Deception makes the path toward evil appear attractive, reasonable, harmless, or necessary. Division separates us from God, divides us within ourselves, and turns us against one another. Diversion distracts us from what God is actually asking of us. This week, we turn to the fourth and final tactic: discouragement.

Over the past few weeks, we have been reflecting on an overlooked aspect of discipleship: Christ gives His followers “power over unclean spirits.” We began by noting that the devil of reality is not always the devil of the movies. He is usually far more subtle. His power is limited because he is a creature, not God’s equal. In the end, much of the power he has over us is the power we surrender to him.