From the Pastor – 17th Sunday in Ordinary Time

July 30, 2018

From the Pastor – 17 th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Today’s Gospel reading recounts Jesus’ miracle of feeding the multitude. In a miracle that anticipated Jesus’ miracle of feeding the multitude, as reported in today’s Gospel, Elisha commanded that a small amount of bread be served to 100 men, and Jesus promised that all would indeed be fed. Elisha trusted that promise, acted upon it, and saw the promise miraculously fulfilled. We, like most people, tend to forget the miracles our Lord can work in everyday life. If we trust in God and live as good stewards, what we accomplish is, in its own way, a miracle.

St. Paul beautifully sums up how our approach to living as Catholics and Christians should be. In today’s Second Reading from his letter to the Ephesians, Paul urges us to live “with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another through love, striving to preserve the unity of spirit through the bond of peace: one body and one Spirit.” Does that describe our parish community?

This cannot happen unless we have the same kind of trust that Elisha had, and which St. Paul had, as well. Paul also says in today’s Second Reading, “I urge you to live in a manner worthy of the call you have received.” This is stewardship at its core. We should not give of our time, talent and treasure because we want to earn God’s love. He already loves us unconditionally.

Jesus knew full well what miracle He was about to perform, but He also saw this as a chance to teach His Apostles, and also show us the way. Philip and the others had already seen Jesus perform many miracles, and there should have been no question in his mind about the divine resources Jesus had at His disposal. Yet Philip hesitated. It is human nature to be doubtful. Yet, as with Elisha, they all ate, and there was much left over. Through this miracle, Jesus is teaching us to trust Him and to do the same in our lives. And, by committing ourselves to a stewardship way of life, we can see our own gifts multiplied. And perhaps even perform our own modern-day miracles.

Copyright © 2018 — Catholic Stewardship Consultants, Inc.

Pastoral Pondering

I thought I would use this week’s bulletin to respond to some of the questions that have come in from the “Ask Father” link on the website.

1. If I recall a sin from many years ago that I didn’t recall at the time when I went to confession, should I confess that sin now or am I already absolved? This is a good question and one that actually comes up fairly often. The simply answer is as long as it was not an intentional omission it would be taken care of. I normally suggest that penitents, at the end of confession, say “for these sins, any sins I cannot remember and all of the sins of my past life, I ask pardon and penance.” This covers everything. I would also say that on occasion the Holy Spirit brings things up that have been addressed in confession but perhaps still have some residual effects in the soul. It never hurts to explain this to the confessor and mention it at the next confession.

2. If a lifelong Catholic is conscious and aware when he receives the Apostolic Blessing (part of the reception of Viaticum), and dies three days later, do we pray for his soul? The Apostolic Blessing offers the remission of all sins and the plenary indulgence. However, the reception of it does not negate the importance of prayer for the faithful departed because purification must occur both from the temporal punishment due to sin already forgiven but also from attachments to this world. We all need some type of purification. Sometimes this is done in this life, but for most of us some will need to be done in the life to come. Nonetheless, the Apostolic Blessing provides a source of grace and blessing from the spiritual treasury of the Church, and for that reason it is important to ask to receive as soon as death is approaching or when there is a significant danger of dying, e.g. serious surgery. Any time we are seriously ill, we should request and receive confession and the Anointing of the Sick.

3. I heard an announcement at church a while back asking for boys to sign up to serve the weekly Latin Mass. Is there a reason that girls were not included? In July of 2007 Pope Benedict XVI allowed for the celebration of the Usus Antiquior or the Mass of 1962 (Pope John XXIII). In the instructions for the implementation of that document, it was made clear that the liturgical norms in force at the time were to be observed. Since the allowance of girls as servers was prohibited until 1994, they are prohibited from serving at the Old Mass. This is why the announcement indicated a request for boys to serve.

The 1994 interpretation and subsequent explanation noted that girls are permitted to serve but bishops are not bound to allow it. Moreover, priests can choose whether or not to allow this service at the altar. As the letter pointed out: “It will always be very appropriate to the follow the noble tradition of having boys serve at the altar. As is well known, this has led to a reassuring development of priestly vocations. Thus, the obligation to support such groups of altar boys will always continue.” Here at St. Mark we have a dedicated group of boys and girls who volunteer to serve. With the exception of the Old Mass where the prohibition remains in place, that practice will continue, and we are appreciative of the dedicated service offered.

From the Pastor

From the Pastor - Feast of St. Francis of Assisi

By John Putnam • October 2, 2026
This reflection pertains to the regular readings for the 27th Sunday in Ordinary Time. We have been given so many gifts and blessings by our Heavenly Father. Yet, in our fallen state it is all too easy to take them for granted. Our readings today teach us that we must live with an intentional awareness of our many blessings and use them gratefully to glorify God. In our Gospel passage from Matthew, Jesus uses the image of a vineyard to teach the importance of using our blessings well. He tells the story of a landowner who plants a vineyard and leases it to tenants before he goes on a journey. Instead of tending the vineyard, the tenants mistreat the servants in the vineyard and even the son of the landowner, whom they kill. When the landowner realizes what the tenants have done, he puts them to death and leases his vineyard to tenants who “will give him the produce at the proper times.” By Baptism, we have received the gift of salvation and membership in the Kingdom of God — we are now “tenants” called to work in the “vineyard” and produce fruit for its owner, our Heavenly Father. Jesus makes it clear that if we squander the gift of salvation, we will lose it. It is a sobering truth. So, let us use our intellect to think on these gifts throughout the day and resolve to use all our gifts for God’s glory. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026 Pastoral Pondering Why St. Francis still matters to the Church On October 4 the Church honors St. Francis of Assisi, one of the most beloved and most demanding saints in our history. He is not merely a garden statue or a gentle friend of animals. Francis is a living reminder of what the Gospel looks like when it is taken at its word. Born Giovanni di Pietro di Bernardone around 1181 in Assisi, he was the son of a wealthy cloth merchant. After a brief taste of knighthood and a season of pleasure, he heard Christ speak from the crucifix of San Damiano: “Francis, go and rebuild my house, which, as you see, is falling into ruin.” He took those words first as a command to repair a crumbling chapel. The Lord meant something larger: the renewal of the Church herself. What Francis restored in the Church Poverty as freedom. Francis stripped himself of inheritance, status, and even the clothes on his back. He called Lady Poverty his bride. That was not a romantic gesture. It was a protest against a Church and a society grown comfortable. Every generation of Catholics needs that protest. When we confuse the Gospel with respectability, Francis stands at the door of the Church and asks whether we still believe that Christ is enough. The crucified Christ at the center. In 1224, two years before his death, Francis received the stigmata on Mount La Verna—the wounds of Christ marked in his own flesh. The Church has always taught that holiness is configuration to Jesus crucified and risen. Francis made that teaching visible. He did not invent devotion to the Passion; he embodied it so completely that the Church could not look away. A family of religious life. From one poor man came the Friars Minor, the Poor Clares with St. Clare, and the Secular Franciscans for men and women living in the world. That threefold family still serves the Church on every continent: preaching, serving the poor, praying, and keeping the memory of the Gospel simple. When we speak of “Franciscan” today—whether a friar, a sister, or a parishioner in the Secular Order—we are naming a way of belonging to Christ that the Church has never outgrown. Creation as gift, not possession. The Canticle of the Creatures—“Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Mother Earth”—is not nature poetry. It is theology. Francis saw every creature as a brother or sister because all things come from the same Father. Pope Francis took that insight into Laudato Si’. Care for our common home is not an optional hobby for Catholics. It is part of the same conversion that led Francis to kiss the leper and to call the wolf of Gubbio his brother. Peace that costs something. In 1219 Francis crossed battle lines during the Fifth Crusade and stood before Sultan al-Kamil. He did not win a treaty. He witnessed to a Lord who is Peace. The Church still needs disciples willing to speak of Christ without hatred and without watering Him down. Francis did both. Why this matters here St. Francis matters to the life of the Church because he keeps returning us to the essentials: Christ poor and crucified, the Church always in need of reform, the poor as our brothers and sisters, creation as a hymn of praise, and joy that does not depend on having more. He is not a saint for specialists. He is a saint for anyone who has grown tired of a faith that costs nothing. As we keep his memorial, I invite you to do one Franciscan thing that is within reach: give something away that you do not need; speak peace where there is friction in your home; spend a few minutes outdoors thanking God for what you did not make; or pray before the crucifix and ask, as Francis did, to know Jesus and to make Him known.  The little poor man of Assisi still rebuilds the Church—one converted heart at a time. May he rebuild ours.

From the Pastor - 26th Sunday in Ordinary Time

By John Putnam • September 25, 2026
As Christian stewards, we are called to a high and holy standard — living as Christ’s disciples every day and with every person the Lord places in our path. But we can move towards this goal in “baby steps.” Jesus demonstrates this comforting truth through the parable He tells in today’s Gospel from Matthew. It is the story of two sons whose father instructs them to go out and work in his vineyard that day. While the second son agrees to his father’s request, he does not follow through — he fails to obey the father’s will. The first son tells his father, “no.” At least he is honest! And in the end, he reconsiders and obeys his father. The first son’s honest, less-than-perfect response is consoling to us Christian stewards. Haven’t we all felt this way at times when God’s will for us seems to be just too hard? We can be honest with God at these times. He knows our thoughts already, after all. But when we stay engaged in a real relationship with Him, even if it’s just to say, “I don’t think I can, Lord,” He will supply us with just the grace we need to change our minds and do what He is asking us to do. We can even take a step backward from time to time because our Father is merciful and kind. What matters is that we keep baby-stepping along, assured of the grace we need to more closely imitate the actions and attitudes of Christ. This is the beauty of the stewardship way of life. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026 Pastoral Pondering On the Feast of Our Lady of Sorrows, the other priests, seminarians, and I, had the opportunity to attend the Final Solemn Profession of Sister Mary Lucia, DVM. It was a moving experience, and I thought it a good occasion to reflect on the importance of religious life in the life of the parish and the life of the Church. Every Sunday we gather as one family: families in the pews, single adults, children, the elderly, deacons, priests, seminarians, and, often quietly among us, men and women who have given their whole lives to God by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. They are not a side chapel of the Church. They stand at her heart. “The consecrated life is at the very heart of the Church as a decisive element for her mission.” — Pope St. John Paul II, Vita Consecrata What does that mean for us here at Saint Mark’s? It means that the Church is poorer—less herself—whenever we forget those who have left everything to follow Christ with an undivided heart. Baptism already consecrates every Christian. Consecrated life is a further, public, stable response to that same baptismal grace: a way of making the face of Jesus—poor, chaste, and obedient—visible in the middle of an age that is often restless, acquisitive, and self-directed. A living sign of the world to come The Catechism teaches that those who profess the evangelical counsels “signify and proclaim in the Church the glory of the world to come.” In other words, a sister who owns nothing, a brother who lives in community, a contemplative who prays through the night, a consecrated virgin living in the world, a missionary who goes where no one else will go—each of them is a living reminder that this world is not our final home. Their lives preach what our words sometimes only hint at: God is enough. That witness is not a luxury. In a culture that measures worth by productivity, possessions, and personal autonomy, consecrated men and women quietly insist that love can be total, that freedom is found in gift, and that joy does not depend on having more. They are, as one religious recently put it, a kind of medicine for the whole Body of Christ—an antidote to our easy compromises with comfort and control. Many forms, one gift Consecrated life is not one mold. From the earliest centuries there have been hermits and virgins, monks and nuns, itinerant preachers and teachers, nurses and missionaries. Today the Church recognizes religious institutes of contemplative and apostolic life, societies of apostolic life, secular institutes, consecrated virgins and widows, and the eremitic life. Some live behind cloister walls. Some staff our schools, hospitals, and missions. Some remain in ordinary workplaces while belonging entirely to Christ. All of them exist for the holiness of the whole Church. History itself testifies to this. The faith was planted and the poor were served in large part because religious families poured themselves out. That work continues. When we thank God for Catholic education, for care of the sick, for quiet hours of adoration offered for souls we will never meet, we are often thanking consecrated persons we may never see. What this asks of us First, gratitude. If a religious sister taught you the faith, if a priest of a religious order heard your confession on retreat, if a contemplative community has prayed for this parish, thank God for them—and, when you can, thank them. Second, prayer for vocations. The Lord still calls. He calls from our families, our youth groups, our college campuses, and our pews. Parents, do not be afraid if your son or daughter begins to wonder about religious life. That question is not a loss to the family; it may be one of the greatest gifts a family can offer the Church. Young people: if the thought of giving everything to Christ will not leave you alone, do not smother it. Speak with a priest or a consecrated person you trust. The Church needs the diversity and richness of these charisms. Third, our own fidelity. Consecrated life does not replace the vocation of marriage or the single life in the world. It illuminates them. The vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience are a concentrated form of what every disciple must live in some measure: detachment, purity of heart, and obedience to the Father’s will. When religious are faithful, the whole parish is strengthened. When we in the pews are faithful to our own state of life, we honor the same Lord they serve. The Church will never be without this gift, because Christ Himself is poor, chaste, and obedient, and He continues to draw men and women into that pattern of life. Let us esteem it. Let us pray for those who live it. And let us ask the Lord of the harvest to send laborers—not only priests, but sisters, brothers, and all who will make His way of life visible among us.  We thank God for the witness of the Daughters of the Virgin Mother who serve here at St. Mark and for all of the religious in the Diocese of Charlotte who give witness to the beauty of consecrated life.