From the Pastor – 24th Sunday in Ordinary Time

September 15, 2019

From the Pastor – 24 th Sunday in Ordinary Time

Today’s readings focus on the personal, passionate and merciful love of God, which should fill us with unending gratitude to Him. This gratitude is the fuel that keeps the stewardship way of life rolling along.

In our Second Reading, from St. Paul’s letter to Timothy, we find a grateful Paul who says of himself, “I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and arrogant, but I have been mercifully treated.” St. Paul is well aware of the sins he has committed. But this does not hold him back from ministry. Rather, it makes him all the more grateful to be God’s steward. How encouraging to know that this is true for us, as well. Our past sins, and even our present struggles, do not disqualify us from becoming God’s grateful stewards.

Jesus gives us several poignant illustrations of His merciful love in today’s Gospel reading from Luke. Let us focus on one in particular — the story of the lost sheep. He asks, “What man among you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them would not leave the ninety-nine… and go after the lost one until he finds it?”

The logical response is no one! It simply does not make sense to spend time and energy searching for one lost sheep when there are so many others to tend to. But God’s logic — God’s mercy — defies human logic. And who is the lost one? It is every one of us when we stray away from God through sin, great or small.

What gratitude we owe to such a personal, passionate, loving God! Just think, even our sins, once forgiven, become a source of fuel for our stewardship way of life as we reflect with deep gratitude on the powerful mercy of our Savior. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants

Pastoral Pondering

I want to thank all of those who attended, and especially those who assisted with the Eucharistic Congress last weekend. It is such a wonderful event and a tremendous opportunity to come together as a local Church to celebrate faith and to offer God fitting worship and praise.

Last week I discussed the mission of the parish, why we exist. This week I want to focus on the two principal bodies that help me as pastor implement that vision, the Pastoral Council and the Finance Council. In order to understand the roles of these two councils, it’s helpful to understand how the Church understands parish. Canon law understands a parish to be, in general, a territory that embraces all of the Christian faithful who live within that territory which is entrusted to a pastor who is responsible for its pastoral care. Usually, when we think of a parish, we think of those who are registered or attend the parish. Actually, however, the Church envisions the parish as including everyone who live within the territory, whether registered or not and whether Catholic or not. The parish exercises this responsibility through works of social justice and sharing the message of the Gospel.

While the pastor is especially entrusted with leading the mission of the parish, he does not carry out this task in isolation. Every member of the Christian faithful, the baptized, have a responsibility of sharing in the mission of the Church and fulfilling the role of the parish. This task is especially expressed in the work of the Pastoral and Finance Councils.

The main role of the Pastoral Council is to bring concerns that affect the whole parish to the pastor’s attention. The Council also develops and implements a Parish Pastoral Plan through which those things that impact the whole parish are addressed.

The Finance Council assists the pastor in the administration of parish temporal matters. The universal law of the Church requires every parish to have a Finance Council. The Council is especially responsible for supporting the pastor in his stewardship of parish resources while being accountable to the parish and the Diocesan bishop. This accountability is primarily carried out through regular review of parish finances and regular reporting of those activities to the parish and the Diocese.

The Pastoral and Finance Councils work cooperatively to implement the goals and objectives outlined in the Pastoral Plan. The Finance Council does this through guiding the budgetary process and insuring that the parish budget is a faithful expression of the values set forth in the Pastoral Plan of the parish.

Over the years I have found both of the Councils to be invaluable in assisting me to carry out the pastoral mandate entrusted to the pastor. While some do, most pastors do not have the expertise to fulfill all that the Church expects of him. Hence, the assistance of the laity who have various talents and charisms is essential to effective pastoral ministry.

Our Pastoral and Finance Councils here at St. Mark are a great help to me. The members offer insight and advise that I have found to be invaluable. The ability of the Council members to collaborate with staff in implementing the pastoral plan is really the key to insuring that we, as a parish, are being faithful to why we are here. John Benson is the chair of our Pastoral Council and Coley O’Shaughnessey is the chair of our Finance Council. If you have questions about either council or would be interested in serving in the future, please feel free to reach out to any one of us.

From the Pastor

From the Pastor - 28th Sunday in Ordinary Time

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.

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.