From the Pastor

On this Solemnity of All Saints, we have the profound joy of celebrating our brothers and sisters in Christ, the saints. This is an especially meaningful feast for us as Christian stewards. At Baptism, each of us receives the call to holiness and discipleship. In other words, we are all called to become saints. Holiness is not reserved for a select few. It is God's desire for every one of His children. The stewardship way of life helps us answer that call each day. In today's Gospel from Matthew, Jesus gives us the Beatitudes. They reveal the qualities that mark the lives of His disciples and point us toward authentic holiness. As we continue striving to live as faithful stewards, the Beatitudes provide a faithful measure of our growth in Christ. The "blessed" that Jesus describes are not different categories of people who make it to heaven. Rather, they reveal the character of those who belong to Him - the poor in spirit, the merciful, the pure of heart, the peacemakers, and all who remain faithful in the midst of trials. None of us can live this way on our own. But as beloved children of God, we receive the grace we need through prayer, the sacraments, and a life centered on Christ. May the example of the saints inspire us to persevere in our own call to holiness, trusting that one day we will join them in the everlasting joy of heaven. © Catholic Stewardship Conference, 2026 Pastoral Pondering October brought us the Church's renewed attention to mental health. Pope Leo XIV has asked us this month to pray that our communities become places where those who carry unseen burdens find welcome, dignity, and hope- not judgment or silence. Many of those burdens are carried by women and girls. Some have lived through abuse, assault, or trauma that few around them even know about. Recent headlines, including those from Cornell University, have reminded the whole country how widespread these wounds are and how alone many survivors feel. Regardless of the outcome and veracity of the Cornell case, these types of cases exist closer to home. Women in our own parish and community often suffer quietly, unsure where to turn or whether anyone will truly understand. There is help, and there is hope. Healed and Restored, the local Catholic ministry founded by our own parishioner Elza Spaedy, exists precisely for this purpose. Through counseling, workshops, spiritual mentoring, retreats, and a supportive community, it walks with women and girls who have experienced abuse, assault, domestic violence, trafficking, or other trauma. Rooted in faith, it helps them encounter the Divine Physician who alone can restore what has been broken and discover that their wounds do not define them. Many of the women who have walked this path have found real freedom and a renewed sense of their dignity as daughters of God. If you are carrying a wound like this, or if you know someone who is, I encourage you to reach out. Information is available at healedandrestored.org. And if you simply want to stand with those who are hurting, please keep them in your prayers. Sometimes the greatest gift we can offer is to notice, to listen without fear, and to point someone toward the healing Christ offers. May the Lord who binds up the brokenhearted make our parish a place of true restoration.

Today's readings are all about love - God's faithful love for His people and the love we are called to return to Him and to one another. The stewardship way of life is simply the daily practice of these two greatest commandments. In today's Gospel, Jesus is asked which commandment is the greatest. His answer is both familiar and endlessly challenging. He says, "You shall love the Lord, your God, with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your mind ... The second is like it: you shall love your neighbor as yourself." Why are these two commandments inseparable? Because both are rooted in love. When we love God above all else, we begin to see others as He sees them. And when we genuinely love our neighbor, we reflect the love we have first received from Him. This is the heart of Christian stewardship. It is simple enough for a child to understand, yet rich enough to spend a lifetime putting into practice.© Catholic Stewardship Conference, 2026 Pastoral Pondering - Remembering the Saints and the Souls As October ends, the Church gives us two feasts back-to-back that show who we are as one family in Christ, living and departed. On November 1, the Solemnity of All Saints, we honor all the holy men and women now in heaven. That includes the famous names on our calendar, and it also includes the countless quiet saints no one ever canonized: grandparents, neighbors, and friends who loved God and others faithfully. Their lives remind us that holiness isn't only for a few. It's the calling of every baptized person. All Saints is a Holy Day of Obligation and since it falls on Sunday this year, it is easy to remember the times for Mass. On November 2, the Commemoration of All the Faithful Departed (All Souls' Day), we pray for everyone who has died, especially our own loved ones. We trust in God's mercy and ask Him to bring them fully into the joy of His presence. Praying for the dead is one of the oldest Christian practices and a real act of love. The Church teaches that "all who die in God's grace and friendship, but still imperfectly purified, are indeed assured of their eternal salvation; but after death they undergo purification, so as to achieve the holiness necessary to enter the joy of heaven" (Catechism of the Catholic Church, 1030). Purgatory isn't a second chance, and it isn't a smaller version of hell. It's God's mercy finishing what He began in us. Most of us leave this life still carrying some attachment to sin, and God lovingly purifies us so we can see Him face to face. Everyone in purgatory is already saved and on the way to heaven. The souls in purgatory can't help themselves, but we can help them. Since the earliest days, Christians have prayed for the dead (see 2 Maccabees 12:46). Our prayers, sacrifices, works of charity, and above all the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass can speed their way to God. This is the Communion of Saints at work: the Church in heaven, the Church on earth, and the Church being purified, all united in Christ and helping one another. Ways to take part Complete an All Souls envelope with the name of your deceased loved ones so it can be placed on the altar throughout November. Have a Mass offered for someone who has died. Visit a cemetery and pray for the faithful departed. A plenary indulgence for the souls in purgatory is available, under the usual conditions, to those who visit a cemetery and pray for the dead from November 1 to 8, or who visit a church and pray the Our Father and the Creed on All Souls' Day. Ask a favorite saint to pray for you and your family. These days remind us that death doesn't break the bonds of love. We pray for the souls, we ask the saints to pray for us, and we look forward to the day we'll all be together in God's kingdom. Eternal rest grant unto them, 0 Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Today's readings remind us of the importance of our relationships. God created us to live in communion with Him and with one another. Our families, neighbors, friends, and parish community need us, and we need them as we grow together in holiness. In today's Second Reading, St. Paul gives us a simple but profound guide for living in relationship with others. Echoing the words of Christ, he writes, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." Love is the guiding principle that helps us become good stewards of every relationship God has entrusted to us. In today's Gospel, Jesus shows us what that love looks like, even when relationships become strained. He tells His disciples, "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have won over your brother." Rather than ignoring conflict or allowing resentment to grow, Jesus teaches us to approach one another with humility, charity, and a sincere desire for reconciliation. This is faithful stewardship of our relationships. He also reminds us of the strength found in Christian community: "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." God never intended us to journey to heaven alone. May we care for the relationships He has entrusted to us and help one another grow as faithful disciples. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026 Pastoral Pondering Next Saturday the Diocese of Charlotte celebrates the annual Eucharistic Congress at the Convention Center in Charlotte. Events begin on Friday evening, with the majority of activities happening on Saturday and culminating with the Congress Mass in the afternoon. I encourage everyone to take advantage of this opportunity to come together as a Diocesan family and celebrate the source and summit of our faith. Our own Father Kevin Martinez will be the homilist for the Holy Hour on Saturday morning at the conclusion of the Eucharistic procession. Public processions of the Eucharist and the saints (especially their relics and images) are ancient and enduring expressions of Catholic faith. They combine liturgical prayer, public witness, communal pilgrimage and public piety. They visibly proclaim core doctrines—the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist and the communion of saints—while symbolizing the Church as a pilgrim people journeying toward the heavenly Jerusalem. These types of processions are found in the Old Testament when the Ark of the Covenant was processed on different occasions, e.g. the conquest of Jericho or the joyful entrance of the ark into Jerusalem. In the early Church processions developed by the 4 th century in both the East and the West. They marked festivals, thanksgivings, penance, the translation (solemn transfer) of relics, the consecration of churches, funerals and times of calamity. Eucharistic processions arose later, in the high Middle Ages, amid intensified theological reflection on the Real Presence (Fourth Lateran Council 1215; development of the language of transubstantiation) and growing devotion to the Eucharist outside Mass. The elevation of the Host during Mass became common around 1200. The Solemnity of Corpus Christi originated in the visions of St. Juliana of Liège (early 13th century), who saw the Church’s liturgical year as a full moon with a dark spot—the lack of a dedicated feast for the Eucharist. The feast was first celebrated in Liège in 1246. Pope Urban IV (formerly archdeacon of Liège) extended it to the universal Church in the bull Transiturus de hoc mundo (1264), commissioning St. Thomas Aquinas to compose the liturgical texts (including Pange lingua, Lauda Sion, and Adoro te devote). A Eucharistic miracle at Bolsena (bleeding Host) around the same time, brought to Urban at Orvieto, reinforced the impetus. Formal public processions with the Blessed Sacrament in a monstrance appeared soon after—early records from places such as Benediktbeuern (1273) and Cologne (1270s)—and spread rapidly across Europe by the 14th century. Pope Clement V and the Council of Vienne (1311) helped regulate the feast and its observance; later papal encouragement and indulgences supported the processions. They typically followed Mass, moved through streets or fields (sometimes stopping at outdoor altars for Gospel readings and petitions), and concluded with Benediction. The Council of Trent strongly endorsed them as a public profession of faith in the Real Presence, especially against Protestant denials. In the Counter-Reformation and Baroque periods they grew elaborate, involving civic authorities, guilds, military escorts, music, and decorations (flower carpets, banners). They continued as major public events in Catholic countries and were revived or defended in later centuries (e.g., against 19th-century secularizing pressures or under Communist regimes). Popes such as St. John Paul II and Benedict XVI emphasized their value; John Paul II restored the Roman Corpus Christi procession and wrote of the need to proclaim the incarnate God “especially in our streets and homes.” The Church continues to encourage them. Liturgical books describe the annual Corpus Christi procession as particularly desirable for the pastoral life of a parish or city when circumstances permit, as a public witness of faith and devotion. Processions of saints remain part of popular piety and local traditions (feast-day celebrations, Rogation observances where retained, translations of relics, etc.).  In short, these processions are not mere pageantry. They are embodied proclamations that the risen Christ walks with His people in the Eucharist and that the saints, as members of the one Body, continue to intercede for and accompany the Church on earth.

Today's readings remind us of the importance of our relationships. God created us to live in communion with Him and with one another. Our families, neighbors, friends, and parish community need us, and we need them as we grow together in holiness. In today's Second Reading, St. Paul gives us a simple but profound guide for living in relationship with others. Echoing the words of Christ, he writes, "You shall love your neighbor as yourself." Love is the guiding principle that helps us become good stewards of every relationship God has entrusted to us. In today's Gospel, Jesus shows us what that love looks like, even when relationships become strained. He tells His disciples, "If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have won over your brother." Rather than ignoring conflict or allowing resentment to grow, Jesus teaches us to approach one another with humility, charity, and a sincere desire for reconciliation. This is faithful stewardship of our relationships. He also reminds us of the strength found in Christian community: "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." God never intended us to journey to heaven alone. May we care for the relationships He has entrusted to us and help one another grow as faithful disciples. ©Catholic Stewardship Consultants, 2026 Pastoral Pondering Next Saturday the Diocese of Charlotte celebrates the annual Eucharistic Congress at the Convention Center in Charlotte. Events begin on Friday evening, with the majority of activities happening on Saturday and culminating with the Congress Mass in the afternoon. I encourage everyone to take advantage of this opportunity to come together as a Diocesan family and celebrate the source and summit of our faith. Our own Father Kevin Martinez will be the homilist for the Holy Hour on Saturday morning at the conclusion of the Eucharistic procession. Public processions of the Eucharist and the saints (especially their relics and images) are ancient and enduring expressions of Catholic faith. They combine liturgical prayer, public witness, communal pilgrimage and public piety. They visibly proclaim core doctrines—the Real Presence of Christ in the Eucharist and the communion of saints—while symbolizing the Church as a pilgrim people journeying toward the heavenly Jerusalem. These types of processions are found in the Old Testament when the Ark of the Covenant was processed on different occasions, e.g. the conquest of Jericho or the joyful entrance of the ark into Jerusalem. In the early Church processions developed by the 4 th century in both the East and the West. They marked festivals, thanksgivings, penance, the translation (solemn transfer) of relics, the consecration of churches, funerals and times of calamity. Eucharistic processions arose later, in the high Middle Ages, amid intensified theological reflection on the Real Presence (Fourth Lateran Council 1215; development of the language of transubstantiation) and growing devotion to the Eucharist outside Mass. The elevation of the Host during Mass became common around 1200. The Solemnity of Corpus Christi originated in the visions of St. Juliana of Liège (early 13th century), who saw the Church’s liturgical year as a full moon with a dark spot—the lack of a dedicated feast for the Eucharist. The feast was first celebrated in Liège in 1246. Pope Urban IV (formerly archdeacon of Liège) extended it to the universal Church in the bull Transiturus de hoc mundo (1264), commissioning St. Thomas Aquinas to compose the liturgical texts (including Pange lingua, Lauda Sion, and Adoro te devote). A Eucharistic miracle at Bolsena (bleeding Host) around the same time, brought to Urban at Orvieto, reinforced the impetus. Formal public processions with the Blessed Sacrament in a monstrance appeared soon after—early records from places such as Benediktbeuern (1273) and Cologne (1270s)—and spread rapidly across Europe by the 14th century. Pope Clement V and the Council of Vienne (1311) helped regulate the feast and its observance; later papal encouragement and indulgences supported the processions. They typically followed Mass, moved through streets or fields (sometimes stopping at outdoor altars for Gospel readings and petitions), and concluded with Benediction. The Council of Trent strongly endorsed them as a public profession of faith in the Real Presence, especially against Protestant denials. In the Counter-Reformation and Baroque periods they grew elaborate, involving civic authorities, guilds, military escorts, music, and decorations (flower carpets, banners). They continued as major public events in Catholic countries and were revived or defended in later centuries (e.g., against 19th-century secularizing pressures or under Communist regimes). Popes such as St. John Paul II and Benedict XVI emphasized their value; John Paul II restored the Roman Corpus Christi procession and wrote of the need to proclaim the incarnate God “especially in our streets and homes.” The Church continues to encourage them. Liturgical books describe the annual Corpus Christi procession as particularly desirable for the pastoral life of a parish or city when circumstances permit, as a public witness of faith and devotion. Processions of saints remain part of popular piety and local traditions (feast-day celebrations, Rogation observances where retained, translations of relics, etc.).  In short, these processions are not mere pageantry. They are embodied proclamations that the risen Christ walks with His people in the Eucharist and that the saints, as members of the one Body, continue to intercede for and accompany the Church on earth.