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 • 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.
By John Putnam • September 18, 2026
Though we can never fully comprehend the perfection of God and His ways, Sacred Scripture reminds us that God's ways are often very different from our own. In our First Reading from Isaiah, the Lord declares, "My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways." As His disciples, we are called to see life from God's perspective, using our time, talents, and treasure with eternity in mind. In today's Gospel, Jesus illustrates this divine perspective through the parable of the workers in the vineyard. Some labor all day, while others are called only near the end of the day. Yet the landowner gives each worker the same wage. Those who worked the longest grumble because they are thinking according to human standards rather than God's generosity. The same temptation can affect us. We may compare ourselves to others and wonder whether everyone else is contributing as much as we are at home, in our parish, or in our community. Instead, we should remember what a privilege it is to have been invited into the Lord's vineyard. Living the stewardship way of life fills our lives with meaning, purpose, and lasting joy. May we thank God each day for calling us to share in His work. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026 Pastoral Pondering Why the Church — and Society — Should Welcome Children God’s first blessing on man and woman was not a burden: “Be fruitful and multiply” (Genesis 1:28). The Catechism calls children “the supreme gift of marriage.” They are not an accessory to married love. They spring from the spouses’ gift of self. Marriage is ordered to the good of husband and wife and to the procreation and education of children. The Church does not assign a number. She teaches a truth: married love, by its nature, is open to life. A gift, not a possession A child is a person, never a product. Couples do not have a “right to a child.” The child has rights: to be received as a gift, to be the fruit of his or her own father and mother, and to be respected from conception. When we welcome children we cooperate with the Creator. Responsible parenthood is generous discernment before God — not selfish delay, and not closing the marital act against life. For serious reasons a couple may space births. Natural Family Planning honors both the unitive and procreative meanings of marriage. Large families, received with joy, remain a sign of blessing. Couples who cannot conceive are not forgotten: their marriages can still be fruitful in charity, hospitality, and spiritual fatherhood and motherhood. Good for the Church. Good for the city. The family is the first school of the Gospel — and the foundation of the common good. Nations endure when men and women marry, stay faithful, welcome children, and raise them in virtue. Children are not a private hobby. They are tomorrow’s neighbors, workers, caregivers, citizens, and saints. A culture that treats fertility as a problem, delays marriage, or is indifferent to the unborn mortgages its own future. Advocates in public life Families also need a voice beyond the parish. The American Principles Project works to place the family at the center of public debate: parental rights, the protection of childhood, the defense of life, and policies that make it more possible for the young to marry and raise children. A bulletin is not a campaign flyer. The Church baptizes no political organization. Catholics may differ on particular tactics. We may not differ on this: marriage, children, and a parent’s duty are not partisan inventions. They belong to the natural law and to the Gospel. Here at Saint Mark’s Encourage the young couples in the pews. Thank the families who fill our Masses with life. Walk with those who wait for a child. Learn NFP as the Church teaches it. Speak and vote as people who believe every child is a gift. And if God is asking your household for another act of generosity, do not be afraid. He who blesses does not abandon. Children are not a threat to our future. They are our future — and a living sign that God has not finished creating.