From the Parochial Vicar - 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time

June 30, 2019

From the Parochial Vicar - 13th Sunday in Ordinary Time

After the joy of Easter, Pentecost, and the last two Sunday’s feasts of the Trinity and Eucharist, today we have returned to “Ordinary” Sundays. Instead of thinking about Ordinary Time as a “not-so-special” time of year, we should think of it as “ordinal” Sundays. We count the Sundays throughout the year as we journey with Christ throughout his three years of public ministry. These are the “ordinary” moments of Christ’s life in which his disciples followed him and learned from him as he journeyed and taught.

In today’s Gospel, Christ responds in a puzzling way to someone who wants to be his disciple: “Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head.” Foxes and birds build their homes simply by making use of what they find daily. They don’t employ an architect or a contractor. They scrounge up little bits of lint, find some twigs, and pick up some pine needles they come across. They make the most of the daily things that creation provides.

We can learn from the foxes and birds by making the most of the daily blessings our Creator provides. Our Lord doesn’t have a place to rest his head in our hearts because we make our hearts about many things. We try to compartmentalize our relationship with him to a certain part of the day or a certain place (“I already had my prayer time today, and I can’t bother to stop right now and praise him or ask him for what I need” or “I’ll grow in my love of Jesus on Sunday when I’m at church”). Throughout the day as we go from activity to activity, we should try to practice a greater recollection in order to identify the gifts, blessings, and graces that the Lord shares with us during our ordinary activity. That way, “ordinary” becomes extraordinary as we see how cooperating with his will orders our heart towards his glory. Then Our Lord can say, the heart of that Christian is a place where I may make my home and rest my head.

Thank You

The process of a priest’s transfer can seem very shrouded in the eyes of the lay faithful. One week a priest is talking about the future of some program or apostolate and the next week he is announcing his departure. Each year in the Diocese of Charlotte, the bishop requests input from his priests about their assignments. We have a chance to let him know how our current assignment is going and make certain requests if we are seeking a transfer. A priest’s obedience to his bishop is not a military-style, blind obedience. It is a filial obedience that implies trust and detachment. Two years ago, upon returning from my studies in Rome, I received a phone call, “If you are offered the position of pastor at __________, will you accept it?” I was never offered that parish and was assigned to St. Mark. And for these past two years, I am incredibly grateful. I could have been made a pastor two years ago, but I see how God in his good providence wanted me to experience for my own sanctification and maturation this wonderful parish community.

Serving with Fr. John and Fr. Becker has been a blessing to my priesthood and growth. They are wonderfully kind, cheerful, and very patient with me. Fr. John and I had a feeling that I would be transferred this year, and he said to me at one-point last fall, “You need your own parish. You are wasting your gifts here.” He didn’t mean that as a put-down or that I wasn’t making a difference. In fact, I was very humbled by that. I would very much be delighted to stay at St. Mark, but that would be a selfish request. A priest of 25+ years and a man who had known me since I was in middle school was telling me that I was ready to be a pastor. That instills great confidence, certainly. Fr. Becker also has been very supportive in this transition. His words were, “Gooder. It’s about time.” Granted, his reaction is biased because he will no longer be the “junior vicar,” he gets my car space in the garage, and he will no longer have the “on-call” line 90% of the week. In all honesty, though, I hope that his experience accompanying a newly ordained priest in his first assignment is as inspirational and rewarding as it was for me to walk with him in his first two years of priesthood.

To each and every household at St. Mark, I want to say thank you. You have been a great blessing to my priesthood. Fr. Becker quoted, I think, St. Augustine in one of his first homilies at St. Mark: “For you I am a priest, with you I am a Christian.” Yes, I have given my life to minister at the altar of God and be a priest for the Church and the salvation of souls, but alongside you I am a fellow Christian man in need of salvation. I have been humbled and inspired by those of you who have invited me to share in your lives and welcomed me into your homes. I am energized by the families and individuals who take their faith to the streets, their jobs, their schools, and their friendships in a way that draws others to love Jesus more. I am grateful for the hundreds of people who have been saying, “We’re gonna miss you.” In reality, I’m going to miss you. I’m going to miss St. Mark Church. There is the excitement of becoming a pastor for the first time, but I would be lying if I said that there isn’t a profound grief in my heart as I face the reality of leaving such a vibrant community of faith.

I want you to remember one thing: a parish is not a vibrant community of faith because of its priests. A parish truly is alive when each individual chooses to live in Christ and for Christ. That is why I do not worry about you as I leave; I know each of you will continue choosing Christ and seeking to dwell in a deeper communion with him. Yes, priests at St. Mark come and go. Don’t forget, however, that they are living instruments in the hand of God for your sanctification. But you are the parish and, by living freely as sons and daughters of the living God, the parish becomes what God intends it to be: a city set on a hill and toward which all come for life-giving water.

From the Pastor

By John Putnam August 22, 2025
Today’s readings show us that it is not enough to be Christ’s disciples in name only. To be a real disciple, we must live for Christ every day and in every aspect of life. This kind of life takes strength and discipline. Intentionally and consistently offering the Lord the best of our Time, Talent, and Treasure through a stewardship way of life is a form of spiritual discipline. These spiritual disciplines teach us to become ever more aware of God’s constant provision for us and they keep us on the narrow path towards the Kingdom of Heaven. The more we embrace this way of life, the more we can be “trained” by the Lord in the ways of true discipleship. Though difficult, these disciplines become a source of spiritual strength. Our Lord Himself speaks of the difficult path to the Kingdom of Heaven in today’s Gospel passage from Luke. He is asked, “Lord, will only a few be saved?” Jesus responds, “Strive to enter through the narrow gate, for many, I tell you, will attempt to enter but will not be strong enough.” Showing up for Mass on Sunday while living as if Christ is an afterthought the rest of the week does not make us disciples. What’s more, this approach to our faith is an unjust and unloving response to our good God who has given us all that we have and are. Jesus does not want us to merely go through the motions of faith. He wants much more from us and for us. He wants to know us deeply and for us to get to know Him so that we become His holy disciples. This is not a burden; it is a privilege. But it does take discipline, the discipline of a stewardship way of life. © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2025 Pastoral Pondering As the school year ramps up again, I wanted to let you know that another young man from the parish has begun his propaedeutic year at St. Joseph College Seminary. John Yellico, the son of Glen and Lissette Yellico, was accepted to the program earlier this summer. He is also the brother of Father Joseph Yellico, recently ordained and Sister Mary Agnes Yellico of the Daughters of the Virgin Mother. Please keep him and all of our seminarians in your prayers. Recently, the Diocese has been working on developing policies to govern the use of artificial intelligence for our employees and ministry sites. AI is almost constantly in the news and most everyone is familiar with Chat GPT, Truthly (the Catholic option) and any number of other efforts to harness this new technology. Earlier this year, the Holy See’s Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith issued a document dealing with this topic. I thought it might be useful, therefore, to offer some thoughts that might be helpful to some of you. Here’s a pastoral reflection based on Antiqua et Nova, tailored for inclusion in a pastoral letter: In our time, we are witnessing extraordinary advances in technology, especially in the realm of Artificial Intelligence (AI). These developments bring both promise and challenge, and as your pastor, I feel called to reflect with you on what this means for our faith, our humanity, and our shared journey toward holiness. The Vatican’s recent document, Antiqua et Nova, reminds us that while AI may imitate certain aspects of human intelligence, it cannot replicate the fullness of what it means to be human. Our intelligence is not merely computational—it is relational, moral, and spiritual. It is a gift from God, rooted in our capacity to love, to discern, and to seek truth. AI can assist us in many ways, from medicine to education to communication. But we must never forget that machines do not possess souls. They do not pray, suffer, or hope. They do not know mercy or grace. Only we, created in the image and likeness of God, bear the responsibility to use these tools wisely, ensuring they serve the dignity of every person. Let us not be seduced by the illusion that technology can replace human wisdom or divine guidance. Instead, let us cultivate a “wisdom of heart,” as the document urges—a wisdom that listens to the Spirit, that seeks justice, and that places love above efficiency. In our homes, schools, and parishes, may we teach our children not only how to use technology, but how to remain human in a digital age. May we accompany one another with compassion, and may our choices reflect the Gospel values of truth, humility, and care for the vulnerable. Let us pray for discernment, for courage, and for a renewed commitment to the common good. And may we always remember: the most powerful intelligence is not artificial—it is the wisdom that comes from walking humbly with our God. The full document is worth the read and may be found on the Vatican website at Antiqua et nova. Note on the Relationship Between Artificial Intelligence and Human Intelligence (28 January 2025)
By John Putnam August 22, 2025
Today’s readings set a high bar for us Christian stewards, reminding us that a stewardship way of life is meant to be a challenging way of life. In the second reading, from the Letter to the Hebrews, we are told to live as Christ lived. And how did Christ live? “For the sake of the joy that lay before Him He endured the cross.” If we are tempted to complain about the sufferings we must endure in living as Christ’s disciples, we are told, “In your struggle against sin you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding blood.” In other words, “If you’re not bleeding, what are you complaining about?” That is quite a high bar! The Gospel reading from Luke continues this challenging theme. Our Lord tells His disciples “I have come to set the earth on fire, and how I wish it were already blazing.” A couple of verses later Jesus adds, “Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.” Jesus’s life on this earth and the message He brought were not meant to simply make us feel good. In fact, His words can make us downright uncomfortable at times. That’s because His Good News (and it is indeed good news!) is meant to change us, to make saints of us. The stewardship way of life sets a high bar indeed. But deeply embraced, this way of life focused on God and others will make us the saints we are called to be. © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2025 Pastoral Pondering Most of you are probably familiar with a non-Catholic who accuses Catholics of “worshipping Mary and the saints”. This is, of course, false, but it shows a misunderstanding of Catholic theology and Catholic understanding of the various types of worship and veneration. I thought it would be helpful to lay this out in a simple way for everyone’s benefit. In Catholic theology, dulia , hyperdulia , and latria are terms used to describe distinct types of reverence or worship offered to God, the saints, and the Virgin Mary. - Latria : This is the highest form of worship, reserved exclusively for God (the Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit). It involves adoration, acknowledging God's supreme divinity and sovereignty. Latria is expressed through acts like the Mass, prayer, and sacrifice, directed solely to God. - Dulia : This is the veneration or honor given to saints, recognizing their holiness and their role as intercessors before God. Dulia is a lesser form of reverence compared to latria, as saints are not divine but are honored for their exemplary lives and closeness to God. This is expressed through prayers asking for saints' intercession, feasts in their honor, or devotion to their relics. - Hyperdulia : This is a special, elevated form of dulia reserved exclusively for the Virgin Mary, the Mother of God. Hyperdulia acknowledges Mary's unique role in salvation history, surpassing the honor given to other saints due to her divine maternity and sinlessness, but it remains distinct from and subordinate to latria. It is expressed through devotions like the Rosary or Marian feast days.  In summary, latria is worship for God alone, dulia is veneration for saints, and hyperdulia is a higher veneration for Mary, all carefully distinguished to maintain the centrality of God’s worship in Catholic practice.