From the Pastor - 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time

July 31, 2026

Today’s Gospel passage from Matthew contains several parables that offer both challenge and encouragement to the Christian steward as Jesus describes the Kingdom of Heaven and our role in helping to build it. 


First, He compares the Kingdom to a field where both wheat and weeds grow together until the harvest. Only then are they separated — the wheat gathered into the sower’s barn and the weeds destroyed. It is a sobering reminder that our choices matter and that God, in His justice, will one day call each of us to account for how we have lived and used the gifts He has entrusted to us. 


But Jesus also offers great encouragement. He compares the Kingdom to a mustard seed, the smallest of seeds, which grows into a large plant. He also compares it to a small amount of yeast that quietly transforms an entire batch of dough. 


These images are especially consoling for Christian stewards. So often, the prayers we pray, the service we offer, and the gifts we share can seem small compared to the needs around us. Yet Jesus reminds us that God works powerfully through even the smallest acts of faithfulness. 


God sees and treasures our offerings of time, talent, and treasure. When placed in His hands, they can bear far more fruit than we could ever imagine. 


In gratitude for all He has given us, let us remain faithful to the mission entrusted to our care for the building of His Kingdom. © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026. 


Pastoral Pondering

The Catholic Church teaches that lying is always wrong and intrinsically evil, as it offends against the truth, which is rooted in the nature of God Himself (who is Truth, cf. John 14:6). This is a consistent teaching drawn from Scripture, Tradition, and the Magisterium, particularly articulated in the *Catechism of the Catholic Church* (CCC). 


Official Definition from the Catechism 


  • CCC 2482: “A lie consists in speaking a falsehood with the intention of deceiving.” (Quoting St. Augustine.) 
  • CCC 2483: “Lying is the most direct offense against the truth. To lie is to speak or act against the truth in order to lead someone into error. By injuring man’s relation to truth and to his neighbor, a lie offends against the fundamental relation of man and of his word to the Lord.” 


Lying profanes speech, whose natural purpose is to communicate truth. It is condemned by its very nature (CCC 2485), and no good intention or end can justify it—evil may not be done so that good may come of it. 


Gravity of Lies 

The seriousness of a lie varies: 

  • It is measured by the nature of the truth deformed, the circumstances, the intentions of the liar, and the harm caused to victims (CCC 2484). 
  • A lie can be venial or mortal sin. It becomes mortal if it gravely injures justice or charity (e.g., false witness in court, lies causing significant harm, or deception with potentially deadly consequences).


Biblical and Theological Roots 

  • Scripture strongly condemns lying: e.g., the Eighth Commandment (“You shall not bear false witness,” Exodus 20:16), Psalms 5:6, Proverbs 12:22, and Jesus calling the devil “a liar and the father of lies” (John 8:44). 
  • Church Fathers like St. Augustine wrote extensively against lying (even “white lies” or lies to save a life), and this has been the dominant tradition, upheld by St. Thomas Aquinas and the Magisterium. While some historical discussions exist (e.g., distinctions between injurious, officious, or jocose lies), the Church holds that lying is always contrary to the virtue of truthfulness. 

Common Questions and Nuances 

  • “White lies” or lies to spare feelings? Still wrong, though lesser in gravity if they cause little harm. Better to use prudence, silence, or evasive but truthful speech. 
  • Lying to save a life (e.g., Nazis at the door)? The Church’s teaching is that lying remains sinful; alternatives like mental reservation, broad statements, or silence are preferred where possible. The good end does not justify the means. 
  • Mental reservation or broad mental reservation: In some moral theology traditions, one may use ambiguous speech that is true in a certain sense (e.g., when the listener has no right to the truth), but this must not cross into actual falsehood. The Catechism’s emphasis is on communicating truth. 
  • Jokes or fiction: Obvious jokes or storytelling (where no one is expected to take it as literal truth) are generally not lies. 



Practical Pastoral Advice 

Christians are called to be people of truth, reflecting Christ. Repentance, confession, and striving for veracity build trust and communion.

From the Pastor

By John Putnam • October 16, 2026
Today's readings remind us to be mindful not only of who we are, but also Whose we are. In today's Gospel, the Pharisees attempt to trap Jesus by asking whether it is lawful to pay the tax to Caesar. Their question is meant to force Him into choosing sides. But Jesus refuses to be drawn into their narrow way of thinking. Instead, He asks whose image appears on the coin. When they answer, "Caesar," Jesus responds, "Repay to Caesar what belongs to Caesar and to God what belongs to God." Those words remind us that while we have responsibilities in this world, our first allegiance belongs to God. Everything we have comes from Him, and through Baptism we have become His sons and daughters. Our time, our talents, our treasure, and our very lives are gifts entrusted to us by the Lord. May we use them each day in grateful response to His goodness, remembering that we belong to Him above all else. © Catholic Stewardship Conference, 2026 Pastoral Pondering With the mid-term elections coming up and early voting beginning this past week, I thought it would be a good idea to remind everyone the importance of Catholics voting and engaging in civil life. On November 3 we will elect members of Congress, state officials, and many local officeholders. Midterm elections draw fewer voters than a presidential year, yet they shape the laws under which we live: the protection of human life, the freedom of the Church to teach and serve, the strength of the family, the care of the poor, and the education of the young. To stay home is not neutrality. It leaves those decisions to others. The Church has long taught that citizenship is part of charity. The Catechism says that co-responsibility for the common good makes it “morally obligatory… to exercise the right to vote” (CCC 2240). Pope Francis put it plainly: a good Catholic does not stand apart from politics, but offers the best of himself so that those who govern may serve the good of all. Voting is one ordinary way we do that. It is also a moral act, not a team sport. Our identity in Christ comes before any party label. The U.S. bishops, in *Forming Consciences for Faithful Citizenship* (scan code), remind us that we form our consciences by the Gospel and the Church’s teaching, then vote in light of that formation. A well-formed conscience does not support a program that contradicts the fundamental contents of faith and morals. Some acts are always gravely wrong: the direct taking of innocent human life, including abortion and euthanasia; attacks on the nature of marriage; religious persecution; and the deliberate degradation of the poor. Other issues—immigration, wages, housing, care of creation, criminal justice—also belong to the common good and require prudent judgment about what will help people. Not every issue carries the same moral weight, and rarely does one candidate embody the whole of Catholic social teaching. We weigh, we pray, and we choose the path that best protects human dignity and advances the common good. A few practical steps help. Read the bishops’ guidance and, where available, nonpartisan comparisons of candidates’ records and stated positions. Pray before you vote, perhaps with the family. Discuss the issues with charity, remembering that the person across the aisle is also made in the image of God. Then vote. If you cannot get to the polls, use whatever law the state provides. Participation does not end at the ballot box: write your representatives, serve the poor, and keep the Church’s voice in the public square after Election Day. Here at St. Mark we will not tell you whom to support. That judgment belongs to your conscience, formed by the faith. We will urge you not to surrender that conscience to habit, fear, or party. The Lord who will judge nations also judges how we used the freedom we were given. May we use it well.
By John Putnam • October 9, 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.