From the Pastor - 4th Sunday in Lent

March 25, 2022

For too many of us, Lent is a season of doom and gloom, a time to feel bad about all the ways we are not “measuring up” in our spiritual lives. But this view could not be further from the truth. Lent is a season of refreshment and love, of awakening and rebirth. The Gospel Reading, the parable of the Prodigal Son, is filled with this theme of awakening and the extravagant, life-changing love that the Father has for each one of us.


We are all familiar with this amazing story — the bratty younger son who has the audacity to ask his dad for his inheritance early, only to squander it sinfully away. It makes us bristle instinctively at his nerve when we read it. But isn’t that exactly what we do when we selfishly turn away from God (in big or small ways) in our own lives? We squander away the inheritance of grace He has given us.


In desperation from the mess he had made of his life, the son finally “comes to his senses” — awakening to the truth that he is a beloved son of a loving and merciful father — and decides to return home. His contrition is faltering and imperfect and seems motivated in large part by his growling stomach. But it is enough for the loving father.


In fact, as soon as the father catches sight of his son he is “filled with compassion for him” and immediately sets about preparing a feast and fine clothes for this son. What an extravagance of love! What a beautiful picture Jesus gives us of our Father’s love and mercy. Oh, how this should fill us with gratitude for such a Father!


And how it should inspire us — with just the tiniest bit of spiritual “spring cleaning” we can be sure we will be swept up in our Father’s loving embrace and find ourselves feasting in His presence. That is what lent is all about. © Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2022

 

Pastoral Pondering

This week we conclude our consideration of Eucharistic renewal. The third task of this renewal is service or Diakonia. In the context of the history of the liturgical movement in the Church, there was a clear connection made between the Eucharistic sacrifice of the altar and taking that experience of Christ out into the world via social action. In Deus caritas est, Pope Benedict states: “a Eucharist that does not lead to charitable actions towards one’s neighbor is intrinsically fragmented.” Love, both the love that we receive at the altar, and the love that we return to Him, must overflow into the world in which we live; otherwise, what we believe (lex credendi) and how we pray (lex orandi) fails to truly express the way we are called to live (lex vivendi).


Jesus tells the apostles to go into the world and make disciples. While that call has special import for those entrusted with the proclamation of the Gospel, it is a call that is shared by all the faithful. When the Lord offered Himself on Calvary, He did so as an act of self-giving love. Our experience of that Sacrifice at Holy Mass and our reception of Him who died for our sake out of love, is to transform us from the inside out and spur us into our own act of self-offering in the way we give of ourselves, our substance, to a world in need. Each communicant then is called to be a living example of the life and love of God.


Roland Millard in his article in the Adoremus Bulletin notes that: “The ultimate fruit of a Eucharistic renewal is a Eucharistic life, which is marked by a selfless and loving diakonia.” We see this transformation in the lives of countless saints throughout the ages. Love for the Most Holy Eucharist drew them to love others with abundant generosity. In Jesus of Nazareth, Ratzinger indicates that this charity (caritas) it is not something that is added on to our worship. Rather it is part and parcel of it. He states: “Caritas, care for their other, is not an additional sector of Christianity alongside worship; rather, it is rooted in it and forms part of it. The horizontal and the vertical are inseparably lined in the Eucharist, in ‘the breaking of the bread.’” As Christians we are not simply called to assist at Mass on Sundays and Holy Days. We certainly are expected to fulfill this Precept, but the reason this is the case is because participating in the living sacrifice of Christ is essential to helping us live a truly Christian life. If we separate what we do at the altar from the way we live, then we become what St. Paul calls, noisy gongs and clashing symbols or what the Lord describes more severely as white-washed tombs with filth and decay inside.



The goal of any Eucharistic renewal is to clearly connect Sunday worship and daily life. Each member of the mystical body is called to be a living witness of Christ in the world. We are nourished by the Sacrifice of the Altar which in turn invites us to make our own living sacrifice in the way we live our lives for others. We can only do this when we learn to connect what we believe (kerygma), how we worship (leitourgia) and how we are called to live (diakonia).


From the Pastor

By John Putnam August 28, 2026
Living the stewardship way of life is not easy. Dying to self and living for Christ and others requires sacrifice. It is the work of a lifetime. Yet it is also the only work that truly matters and the only life that ultimately satisfies. In today's Gospel from Matthew, Jesus tells His disciples, "Whoever wishes to come after me must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me." At first, those words may sound difficult to accept. Why would anyone willingly embrace such a path? Jesus immediately gives us the answer: "Whoever wishes to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." Everything comes down to love. Jesus loved us completely, giving Himself for us on the Cross. He continues to give Himself to us through His Word and, most especially, in the Eucharist. Each day we are faced with a choice: to live for ourselves or to live for God and for others. The second path is more demanding, but it leads to lasting joy and the promise of eternal life. Christ assures us that He "will come with his angels in his Father's glory and then he will repay all according to his conduct." May we choose each day to lose our lives for Christ's sake, offering them back to Him in grateful response to His immeasurable love. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026 Pastoral Pondering Two Italian dioceses (Rome and Ventimiglia-Sanremo) recently blocked planned Catholic funeral Masses for two prominent Freemasons after their Masonic affiliations became publicly known just before the ceremonies. This happened on August 7–8, 2026, and applies longstanding Church discipline rather than a new nationwide policy from the Italian bishops’ conference. Since some folks asked about this, I thought it would be a good article. The cases - Rome: Bruno Battisti D’Amario (88), a classical guitarist and professor closely linked to Ennio Morricone’s film work, died on August 5. His funeral Mass was scheduled for August 7 th at Santa Maria in Montesanto (the “Church of the Artists” in Piazza del Popolo). The Grand Orient of Italy (GOI) publicly eulogized him as a “master brother,” founder of the Roman Giuseppe Leti lodge, composer of the GOI’s official anthem, and holder of senior positions (including twice president of the Lazio District College of Worshipful Masters). Cardinal Baldassarre Reina, Vicar General of the Diocese of Rome, consulted the diocesan legal office and denied authorization for the funeral Mass, allowing only a brief prayer as a gesture of Christian charity. - Ventimiglia-Sanremo (Liguria): Mario Tarducci (73), a former Venerable Master of the local Mimosa lodge (no. 985, Orient of Bordighera), was scheduled for a funeral the next day at the parish church of San Marco in Camporosso. Bishop Antonio Suetta learned of the affiliation only after arrangements were made—via local news and public Masonic death notices. After consulting the family and pastor, and noting the simultaneous Rome case, he suspended the ecclesiastical funeral under the same principles, limiting it to simple prayers outside. Canonical and doctrinal basis Both decisions explicitly invoked Canon 1184 of the Code of Canon Law. It denies ecclesiastical funerals to those who, without signs of repentance before death, are “notoriously apostate, heretical or schismatic” or “other manifest sinners” whose funerals would cause public scandal among the faithful. This aligns with the Church’s consistent teaching that Freemasonry is incompatible with Catholicism. The 1983 Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith declaration (under then-Cardinal Ratzinger) reaffirmed that Catholics who join Masonic associations are in a state of grave sin and may not receive Holy Communion; the negative judgment on Masonic principles remains unchanged. Public, high-level membership without known repentance creates the “public scandal” element that triggers the canonical denial. These were not blanket bans on all Freemasons but responses to notorious cases where the affiliation was openly proclaimed by the lodges themselves, making a Catholic funeral appear to endorse or ignore the incompatibility. Similar past applications have occurred (e.g., high-profile cases involving public scandal). Pastoral care for the grieving family is still encouraged—Mass intentions or a memorial Mass sine corpore (without the body present) can be offered.  In short, two bishops applied existing law firmly once the memberships became public and notorious. The episodes have drawn attention precisely because they reinforce the long-standing discipline amid ongoing tensions between the Church and Freemasonry in Italy. It also reminds all of us that one cannot present themselves as Catholic and live in a manner that contradicts longstanding teaching of the Church.
By John Putnam August 21, 2026
This weekend we celebrate a sacred milestone: the anniversary of the dedication of our church building. The readings chosen for this occasion invite us to look beyond brick and mortar and ask a deeper question: What makes a house of God holy? And how do we, the living Church of Saint Mark, continue to be that house? In the First Reading, Solomon stands before the newly completed Temple in Jerusalem and prays with both awe and humility: “Can it indeed be that God dwells on earth? If the heavens and the highest heavens cannot contain you, how much less this temple which I have built!” Yet he dares to ask the Lord to keep His eyes open toward this place and to hear the prayers of His people. The Temple was never meant to limit God; it was meant to make His presence accessible to a people who needed a place to gather, to pray, and to be reminded that they belong to Him. Saint Paul takes this truth even further. Writing to the Corinthians, he tells them—and us—“You are God’s building… Do you not know that you are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwells in you?” The foundation of this living temple is Jesus Christ alone. No other foundation can be laid. The physical walls of our church matter. They have been consecrated. They shelter the Eucharist. They hold our baptisms, our weddings, our funerals, and our daily prayers. But the true temple is the community of believers who gather here. We are the living stones. When we treat one another with reverence, when we protect the dignity of every person, when we refuse to allow division or scandal to take root, we honor the Spirit who dwells among us. Finally, in the Gospel, Jesus asks the decisive question: “Who do you say that I am?” Peter answers with the faith that becomes the rock: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” Upon that confession Jesus builds His Church and entrusts Peter with the keys. Every time we renew our faith in Jesus as Lord, every time we hand over our lives to His authority, we strengthen the foundation of this parish. Saint Mark’s is not simply a building dedicated years ago; it is a community continually being built upon the rock of Peter’s confession and the living presence of Christ. As we mark this anniversary, let us give thanks for the sacred space that has sheltered our parish family. Let us also examine our hearts. Are we living as temples of the Holy Spirit? Are we building one another up on the one true foundation? May the Lord who cannot be contained by any temple continue to dwell richly among us—and may Saint Mark church always be a place where heaven and earth meet in prayer, in charity, and in faithful witness to Jesus Christ. Pastoral Pondering Consecrated church buildings hold a central place in Catholic worship and theology because they are set apart as sacred space—places where heaven and earth meet in a privileged way. The architectural style, the overall design and the artistic elements are all to serve Catholic worship and belief. The following offers some information on the role of church buildings in the life of the Church. 1. They are truly dedicated to God Through the solemn Rite of Dedication, a church building ceases to be ordinary architecture. The walls, altar, and space are anointed, blessed, and consecrated exclusively for divine worship. From that moment, the building belongs to God in a special way. Canon law treats consecrated churches as sacred places that may not be used for profane purposes (Canon 1210). This consecration is not merely symbolic; it affects a real change in the character of the place. 2. They house the Real Presence of Christ The most decisive reason a consecrated church is holy is the presence of the Blessed Sacrament in the tabernacle. Once the Eucharist is reserved there, the building becomes the dwelling place of the living Christ. Catholics genuflect not to architecture but to the Lord who remains present. The church is therefore more than a meeting hall; it is a true house of God. This presence elevates the entire space and gives Catholic church buildings a unique sacred character that persists even when no liturgy is being celebrated. 3. They are the ordinary place of the Church’s sacramental life The major sacraments of the Christian life—Baptism, Confirmation, Eucharist, Reconciliation, Matrimony, Ordination and Anointing of the Sick—are normally celebrated within consecrated churches. The building itself becomes the visible setting in which the invisible grace of the sacraments is given. The altar, in particular, is the focal point: it is anointed and contains relics of the saints, signifying that the sacrifice of Christ is offered in communion with the whole Church, living and dead. 4. They image the mystery of the Church Catholic theology sees the consecrated building as a visible sign of the invisible reality of the Church. The physical structure points to the living temple made of “living stones” (1 Peter 2:5; 1 Corinthians 3:16-17). Just as Solomon’s Temple was the place where God’s name dwelt among His people, the church building is the place where the People of God gather as His temple. The architecture, art, and orientation of the building are meant to lift the mind and heart to the heavenly liturgy and to the eschatological reality of the New Jerusalem. 5. They foster continuity, identity, and reverence A fixed, consecrated place creates a shared sacred memory across generations. The same walls that witnessed baptisms and weddings decades ago continue to shelter the community today. Beauty, silence, and sacred art within the building form the senses and train the soul in reverence. This is why the Church has always insisted on the dignity and permanence of consecrated churches: they shape the faith of those who pray within them.  In short, consecrated church buildings matter because Catholicism is a sacramental religion. God works through material realities—water, oil, bread, wine, and also space and architecture. A consecrated church is not merely a convenient location for worship; it is a privileged locus of God’s presence, a visible expression of the Church, and a permanent invitation to encounter the living Christ.