From the Pastor - 12th Sunday in Ordinary Time

June 18, 2021

Our readings today remind us that God always has our best interests in mind. No matter what is going on in our lives, God is with us.

 

In our Gospel today, Jesus and His disciples are traveling in a boat when heavy winds and violent waves begin to overwhelm the boat. Jesus was there sleeping in the boat in the midst of this horrific storm.

 

The disciples woke Jesus and questioned Him, “Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?” Jesus calms the wind and the waves, and then asks them in return, “Why are you terrified? Do you not yet have faith?”

 

Think back to a time that you endured great suffering, a hard trial or felt overwhelmed with life. How did you respond?

 

In moments of trial, we often live our days in a panic. We see the water coming into our boat and we do all that we can in our power to stay afloat. We are frantic, so we fail to stop and recognize that our Savior is in the same boat with us. Although it might feel like He is sleeping and His presence is lacking, He is right there suffering with us.

 

God won’t allow anything that we cannot handle. In a moment of suffering, we might feel trapped. Yet, He sees the moment of peace and still waters.

 

During our trials, cling to Jesus. Know that there is an end, and whether we see the end in this life or the next, God allows it all for our salvation.

 

Today, let us thank God for His presence in our lives, and ask for the eyes of faith to see that He is right here with us always. 

 

Pastoral Pondering

Before continuing on with our catechesis, I want to address an unexpected change. While we had originally hoped that our clergy personnel would remain unchanged, due to unforeseen circumstances in the Diocese, Father Gámez will be leaving us on July 6th. He has been an amazing addition to our parish family, and it has been a joy working with him during his first years of priesthood. I am unable at present to announce where Father is going or who will be coming here, but will hopefully be able to do so next week.

 

The Second Precept – You shall confess your sins at least once a year: We must prepare for the Eucharist by means of the Sacrament of Reconciliation (Confession). The sacrament “continues Baptism’s work of conversion and forgiveness (Code of Canon Law, 989 as quoted in CCC, 2042).

 

The sacrament of Penance, also called reconciliation or confession, is that gift of Christ that recognizes our weakness as human beings due to our fallen human nature. Since our mission is to maintain communion with Christ and His Church, we need the spiritual aids that will assist us to do so since we cannot do so without God’s help. The sacrament of penance along with the sacrament of the anointing of the sick are identified as sacraments of healing. They restore us to spiritual health.

 

For its part the sacrament of penance, in order to truly be effective, requires that it be an external expression of something that is already an interior reality; namely, interior sorrow or contrition for offending God by falling into sin. As St. Ambrose, the great Archbishop of Milan noted, “there are two conversions in the Church, water and tears; the waters of baptism and the tears of repentance” (See CCC, 1429).

 

Because is first and foremost “an offense against God (CCC, 1440), we should always be mindful of the serious consequences that arise from freely giving into sin; which also damages our relationship with the Church. Hence, in order to repair the damage caused by sin, by Christ’s design, we need an act of the Church to bring about the fullness of healing. Of course, as the Catechism points out, “only God forgives sin” (1441), nonetheless because of His power as God, Christ handed on that authority to the Apostles and their successors to exercise this sacred task through His bride, the Church (see Mt. 16:19; cf. Mt, 18:18; 28:16-20).

 

While it is strictly true that only serious or mortal sin is necessary to restore communion (see CCC, 1456), it is a worthy practice to use the sacrament with regularity even if only venial sins have been committed because the sacrament itself is a font of grace through which the penitent is strengthened to fight temptation and avoid sin (CCC, 1458). Those conscious of serious or mortal sin must not approach Communion until they have received sacramental absolution (CCC, 1457).

 

One of the aspects of the sacrament that is often overlooked is the necessity of satisfaction. Forgiveness of sin brings about reconciliation with God and the Church. In addition to injuring our relationship with God, sin often also injures others. Because of this, simple justice requires that the sinner repair the harm that his sin has caused, e.g., return stolen goods, restore someone’s name, pay compensation for injuries (CCC, 1459). This aspect of reconciliation is often called reparation or expiation for sin. The priest confessor, in imposing a penance, should take this into consideration when offering the penitent guidance in restoring relationships and healing offenses.

 

At St. Mark we committed several years ago to offer opportunities for the regular reception of this sacrament of healing. Usually, confessions are offered prior to each Mass, and regular times for confession are offered on Saturday afternoons and Wednesday evenings.

From the Pastor

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.
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.