Dear Parish Family,

ALL SAINTS’ DAY – NOVEMBER 1

On All Saints’ Day, we rejoice with the countless men and women who now share fully in God’s glory. The saints remind us that holiness is not beyond our reach — it is a daily journey of faith, hope, and love.

The Church teaches that “the saints are the friends and co-heirs of Christ, united with Him in glory and interceding for us before the Father” (cf. Catechism of the Catholic Church, 956). Through their lives, they show us that every act of kindness, forgiveness, and love can be a step toward heaven.

“After this I looked, and there was a great multitude that no one could count,
from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages,

standing before the throne and before the Lamb.”

Revelation 7:9

As we celebrate this feast, let us give thanks for the example of the saints and ask for their prayers to help us grow in holiness.

“Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”  Matthew 5:8

ALL SOULS’ DAY – NOVEMBER 2 – A Day of Prayer for the Faithful Departed

On All Souls’ Day, we remember with love all our departed brothers and sisters who await the fullness of God’s mercy. The Church invites us to pray for them, trusting that our prayers help their souls draw closer to the light of heaven.

“It is therefore a holy and wholesome thought to pray for the dead, that they may be loosed from sins.”  2 Maccabees 12:45

Our faith assures us 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). This time of purification, which we call Purgatory, is a sign of God’s tender mercy – preparing His beloved children to see Him face to face.

Throughout the month of November, the Church invites us to remember our loved ones in a special way:

Light a candle in memory of our departed loved ones.
Write their names in the Book of Remembrance, placed at the entrance of the Church. Offer Mass intentions and prayers for the repose of their souls.

Together, let us surround our beloved dead with prayer, hope, and love. May our remembrance bring peace to our hearts and comfort to all who mourn.

Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord,
and let perpetual light shine upon them.
May they rest in peace. Amen.

“O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.”

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

Today’s Gospel from Luke 18:9–14 invites us into the quiet space of the heart—where true prayer begins. Jesus tells the parable of two men who go up to the temple to pray: one a Pharisee, confident in his righteousness, and the other a tax collector, aware of his need for mercy.

The Pharisee speaks about himself—what he does, what he avoids, and how he is better than others. The tax collector, by contrast, doesn’t even lift his eyes to heaven. He simply prays, “O God, be merciful to me, a sinner.” And Jesus tells us plainly: “I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other.”

This Gospel reminds us that God is not drawn to our accomplishments or comparisons—but to our honesty and humility. As it says in James 4:6, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.” And again in Psalm 51:17, “A broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”

We live in a world that encourages us to present our best selves, to prove our worth, and sometimes even to hide our weaknesses. But before God, there is no need to pretend. He already knows us fully and loves us deeply. Jesus invites us today to drop the mask, step away from comparison, and come before Him with a humble heart.

Humility is not thinking less of ourselves, but thinking truthfully and acknowledging that all we are and all we have is grace. As Jesus says at the close of this parable: “Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

This week, let’s open our hearts in that same prayer of the tax collector, trusting that God’s mercy is abundant and near to those who seek Him.

Reflective Questions:

Am I honest with God in prayer, or do I find myself justifying or comparing?

Where is God inviting me to grow in humility and dependence on His grace?

In Christ’s love,

Fr. Sunil Kumar Pallela

Missionaries of Hope Among All Peoples

Pope Leo XIV in his video message for World Mission Day 2025 said, “I urge every Catholic parish in the world to take part in World Mission Sunday. Your prayers, your support will help spread the Gospel, provide for pastoral and catechetical programs, help to build new churches, and care for the health and educational needs of our brothers and sisters in mission territories – Help me help the missions.”

What is World Mission Sunday?

Imagine a world where billions of people have never heard the name of Jesus. Imagine villages where people walk miles to attend Mass because there’s no church nearby. Imagine communities where faith is alive but fragile, challenged by poverty or isolation. Imagine churches packed every Sunday, even when those taking part know they are targets of terrorists because of their faith.

This is why World Mission Sunday makes a difference…

Celebrated every year on the second-to-last Sunday of October, World Mission Sunday is the day when Catholics around the world unite to support the missionary work of the Church. Established by Pope Pius XI in 1926, it remains the only annual global collection that directly supports the 1,124 mission territories where the Church is young, struggling, or persecuted. On this day, every parish, in every diocese, in every country, joins in prayer and giving to ensure that missionaries can continue their vital work—building churches, forming priests, supporting catechists, and serving communities in need.

More than a collection…

World Mission Sunday is not just a second collection. It is the Church’s annual call to put the missions and evangelization at the center of our life and parish communities. It reminds us that every Catholic is by baptism, a missionary disciple, and that our own nation was once mission territory, sustained by the very collection we now have the privilege to support. Let us respond – together with each other and with Pope Leo – as Missionaries of Hope among the Peoples.

This year’s theme-“Missionaries of Hope Among the Peoples“-is a call to embody the love of God, poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit (cf. Rom 5:5). Your offering today provides hope where despair too often dominates-through the building of churches, formation of seminarians and religious sisters, healthcare clinics, and Catholic schools. Thank you for responding with faith, love, and generosity. As Pope Francis told us, “Each of us is a mission on this earth” (Evangelii Gaudium, 273). Together, we share in that mission by ensuring that no one is excluded from the invitation to encounter Christ.

St. John XXIII: A Life of Thanksgiving

Dear Parish Family,

This Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 17:11–19) tells the story of the ten lepers healed by Jesus but only one of them, a Samaritan, comes back to give thanks. Jesus notices this and asks, “Were not ten made clean? But the other nine, where are they?” Gratitude, it seems, is not only good manners, it’s an act of faith. The one who returned didn’t just say thank you; he praised God and fell at Jesus’ feet. His thanksgiving became worship.

This story reminds us that thanksgiving is more than a response to blessings; it is a way of life for a disciple of Christ. St. Paul’s words ring true: “In all circumstances, give thanks, for this is the will of God for you in Christ Jesus.” (1 Thessalonians 5:18)

As we celebrate the feast of our parish patron, St. John XXIII, on October 11, we remember a man whose life was marked by simple, sincere gratitude. In the midst of great responsibilities as pope, he kept a humble heart. He would often say, “See everything, overlook a lot, correct a little.” He trusted God deeply, and his joy and kindness flowed from a thankful spirit. Even in the face of illness and difficult decisions, he kept a heart rooted in trust and thanksgiving. He once said, “I am just a humble servant of the Lord, and I thank Him every day for His goodness to me.” His diary, Journal of a Soul, is filled with prayers of thanksgiving, even for small things. He often said, “I never met a pessimist who made the world better.”

At the heart of our faith is the Eucharist, a word which literally means “thanksgiving.” Every time we gather for Mass, we come—like that one leper—to praise God and give thanks. No matter what we are going through in life, the Mass invites us to pause, to remember God’s goodness, and to respond with grateful hearts. In doing so, we are healed in ways we may not even realize.

As we honor St. John XXIII and reflect on the Gospel this week, I encourage you to make the Sunday Eucharist a true prayer of thanksgiving. Come with open hearts. Offer your joys, your burdens, your whole self to the Lord—and let Him make you whole.

As we reflect this week, let us ask ourselves:

When was the last time I paused to truly thank God—from the heart?

How can I make the Sunday Mass a more intentional act of thanksgiving in my life?

How can I live each day more intentionally as a response of gratitude to God?

With prayers and thanksgiving for all of you,

Fr. Sunil Kumar Pallela

Together we are stronger. Together, we are on mission.

Together, we are one heart and mind in Christ Jesus.

At the end of St. Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus extends to his disciples and us the Great Commission. In other words, he sends us on mission to proclaim the living Gospel–each one of us.

One of the ways we do this is by being united across the Diocese of Saginaw in support of Christ’s Mission Appeal. Our annual diocesan appeal impacts each of our 56 parishes in 11 counties. Our theme for this year’s Christ’s Mission Appeal is, One Heart and Mind, which comes from the early Church as reflected in the Acts of the Apostles (Acts 4:32), “The community of believers was of one heart and mind, and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common.”  Luke goes on to write…“and no one claimed that any of his possessions was his own, but they had everything in common.” “And the Lord rewarded them – “… and great favor was accorded them all.”

What a beautiful description of how you and I are called to live, following their example!

So too, with our Church today. I deeply appreciate the amazing things happening within our parishes, and while this is true, there are many more ministries across the diocese supported by Christ’s Mission Appeal. The monies we receive through the Appeal are the largest source of support for the ministries of our Diocese.

Some of those ministries are very visible like the ordination of priests and deacons and Great Lakes Bay Catholic Magazine.  However, these resources also allow us to do things no single parish could do on its own.  Some of these ministries include forming seminarians and supporting our clergy, training lay leaders, reaching out to youth and young adults, and providing the kind of pastoral and educational resources that strengthen parish life across our entire Diocese.  

In other words, your gift to Christ’s Mission Appeal touches lives in ways you may never see, but in ways that build up the Body of Christ. We could not do what we do in carrying out the mission of Jesus without your support. In our coming together as disciples on mission, let us be “of one heart and mind,” as were those first century disciples, by caring and supporting one another across the Diocese. Your partnership really matters!

I am deeply grateful for your past support of Christ’s Mission Appeal. I invite you to join me on mission by prayerfully and generously supporting this year’s Christ’s Mission Appeal. With assurances of my prayers, may God continue to bless you and your families abundantly.

Peace and joy in Christ,

Most Rev. Robert D. Gruss

Bishop of Saginaw

Seeing Lazarus Today

Dear friends,

This Sunday’s Gospel tells the story of the rich man and Lazarus. The rich man lived in comfort and abundance, while poor Lazarus lay at his gate—hungry, in pain, and unseen. In the end, their roles are reversed, and the rich man finally notices the one he had ignored.

Hearing this story, I can’t help but think of the blessings we enjoy—our food, health, and safety—and how easy it can be to overlook those who are suffering near and far. This week, I was deeply moved by the sight of over 500 priests marching in Rome beneath the banner “Christ Died in Gaza.” They came not as politicians, but as shepherds—praying the Lord’s Prayer in Arabic, carrying the names of children and families lost to violence. Their witness proclaimed: we cannot be silent when our brothers and sisters suffer. (https://zenit.org/2025/09/16/pope-leo-calls-on-catholics-in-gaza-more-than-500-catholic-priests-announce-march-in-support-of-gaza-in-rome/?eti=27531)

I think of Father Gabriel Romanelli, still celebrating Mass amid the ruins of Gaza, sheltering hundreds who have nowhere else to go. He himself was injured and has lost parishioners, yet he can still say, “God is with us.” Pope Leo XIV even called him personally—not to give answers, but to remind him: “You are not forgotten. I’m praying for you.” That is the kind of Church I hope we will be: present, prayerful, and faithful.

When Jesus tells this parable, I believe He is gently calling us to open our eyes. The rich man’s sin was not his wealth—it was that he stopped noticing. He grew accustomed to someone else’s suffering. So I ask myself: Who is lying at my gate today? Perhaps it is Gaza. Perhaps it is a neighbor who is lonely. Perhaps it is someone in my own family who feels unseen.

We cannot solve every problem in the world, but we can love. We can pray. We can give. We can lift our eyes and notice the people God has placed at our gate.

This week, I invite you to join me in prayer—for peace in our world, for the safety of the innocent, and for the grace to recognize the Lazarus in our own lives. Let us not wait until it is too late to become the people God calls us to be.

Questions for Prayer This Week:

1. Who is the Lazarus at my gate—and have I been overlooking them?

2.     What small step can I take this week to respond with compassion?

Letting Go of Candy, Reaching for God

Dear Beloved Parishioners,

This past Sunday, something unexpected and beautiful happened at Sacred Heart Church in Merrill during Communion, something that moved me so deeply I knew I had to share it with you.

As the line for Holy Communion moved forward, a young father came walking up with his little boy—maybe 2½ or 3 years old. The child was clutching three candies in his tiny hands, his fingers sticky with sweetness and joy. He was savoring them with that innocent delight only children know. But as they approached the Altar, I noticed something remarkable.

As the father stretched out his hands to receive Jesus in the Eucharist, the child looked up at him… paused… and then quietly dropped all three candies on the floor. No hesitation. No fuss. He simply let them go. And then—lifting his now-empty sticky hands—he imitated his father, stretching them out in the same posture, longing to receive, looking upwards towards the priest. I blessed him, saying ‘God bless you’ and he followed his father back to the pew.

That gesture of the child left a powerful impression on me, inviting me to pause and learn a lesson the child is teaching me. The child was mirroring his father—but more than imitation, it was a gesture of surrender, trust, and longing. (It can also be seen as a gesture of helplessness and begging). In that moment, I saw a living parable—a message from God spoken not in words, but through the simplicity of a child.

The candies, as small as they were, likely meant the world to him. But in that sacred moment, they became a symbol: of what we all hold onto… the sweet things we think we can’t live without—our comforts, attachments, plans, ambitions, even sins. We carry them so tightly in our hands. And yet, when we come before God, especially in the Eucharist, we are invited to let go, to surrender whatever stands in the way of deeper communion with God.

To receive, we must first let go.

And that child didn’t just let go. He reached out. He reached for Jesus, (though he was not aware of), just as we are invited to do. His empty hands became an open vessel—ready to be filled not with candy, but with grace.

That moment helped me to connect to the Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 16:1–13), where Jesus tells the parable of a dishonest steward—a man entrusted with his master’s possessions, but who failed to be faithful. When he was called to give an account, the steward planned for his future, yet it’s a future that is purely worldly.  He planned cleverly – but not eternally. 

The Lord’s message is clear: we cannot serve two masters. We must choose whom we are living for and what we are willing to let go of for the sake of something greater. The child at the Altar didn’t think twice. In his own little way, he showed more wisdom than the steward. He chose Jesus over candy/possessions. We need God’s love, mercy, forgiveness and more important, we need God in our lives.

The child’s gesture invites us to ask:

What “candies” am I holding onto that I might need to let go to receive more fully what God desires to give me?

Am I planning my future only in terms of this world or am I investing in eternity?

Sometimes, it takes a child to remind us how to be children of God again.

The Exaltation of the Cross & Saint Carlo Acutis 
God’s Influencer for All Generations

Dear Parish Family,

On September 7, 2025, the Church joyfully canonized Saint Carlo Acutis, a 15-year-old Italian teenager and the first millennial saint. Known affectionately as “God’s Influencer,” Carlo lived a short but deeply impactful life, marked by a profound devotion to the Holy Eucharist and a love for using modern technology to evangelize.

As we celebrate the Feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross on September 14, the life of Saint Carlo offers us a fresh and powerful lens through which to contemplate the mystery of the Cross. At just 15 years old, Carlo embraced the Cross in his own life—through his daily Mass, his personal sacrifices, his offering of suffering during leukemia, and his deep Eucharistic faith. For Carlo, the Cross was not a burden, but a bridge – as he called “The Eucharist is my highway to Heaven.”

The Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross is not just a remembrance of an ancient relic; it is a call to lift high our own crosses in union with Christ. Saint Carlo models this beautifully—not in grand gestures, but in the ordinary rhythm of daily life: in prayer, in technology used for good, in love for others, and in silent endurance of suffering.

“All people are born as originals, but many die as photocopies,” Carlo once said.
What a powerful challenge to us all to live authentically, to love generously, and to pursue holiness in the midst of our everyday lives.

Whether you are young or old, healthy or homebound, active or quietly prayerful—your life matters in the Body of Christ. Carlo’s life is the fruit of the faith passed on by parents, grandparents, priests, catechists, and everyday saints—people like you.

As we honor the Cross this week, may we, like Saint Carlo, embrace it not as a symbol of loss, but of victory and transformation. May we lift high the Cross in our own lives, and through it, lead others to Christ.

Saint Carlo Acutis, pray for us!
May we, like you, be holy, be original, and be God’s.

Counting the Cost: The True Price of Discipleship

This Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 14:25–33) presents us with one of the most demanding teachings Jesus ever gave. As great crowds followed Him – perhaps hoping for healing, miracles, or comforting words – Jesus instead turned to them with a challenge:

“If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:26)

These are difficult words. But Jesus is not promoting hatred in the emotional sense. Rather, He is using strong language to make a clear and powerful point: our relationship with Him must be first before every other relationship, before every possession, even before our own desires and comforts.

He goes on to say:

“Whoever does not carry his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:27)

Following Christ is not a part-time commitment. It’s not something we pick and choose according to convenience. It’s a total, daily offering of ourselves – our plans, our priorities, our possessions – to the will of God. This kind of discipleship requires careful thought and a willing heart. As Jesus says, who would begin building a tower without first calculating the cost?

The Lord is calling us to count the cost of discipleship not to discourage us, but to prepare us. He does not promise an easy path, but He promises to walk it with us:

“I have been crucified with Christ; and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.” (Galatians 2:20)

“Whoever finds their life will lose it, and whoever loses their life for my sake will find it.” (Matthew 10:39)

Let us take this to heart: the more we are willing to surrender to Christ, the more we discover what true life, true peace, and true joy really are.

Reflective Questions:

What areas of my life am I still holding back from Christ – relationships, possessions, ambitions?

What “cross” is Jesus asking me to carry today, and how can I carry it with faith and trust?

May we pray for the courage to follow Christ wholeheartedly, trusting that what He asks us to give up is nothing compared to what He longs to give us in return.

22nd Sunday in Ordinary Time – Luke 14:1, 7–14

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

In this Sunday’s Gospel, we find Jesus dining at the house of a Pharisee, where He observes the guests scrambling or looking for places of honor at the table. As He so often does, Jesus takes a common situation and reveals a deeper spiritual truth:

“For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but the one who humbles himself will be exalted.”

This short but powerful verse challenges the spirit of pride that can quietly take root in each of us. Our world often tells us to seek recognition, to assert ourselves, to climb higher—whether in our careers, our social circles, or even within the Church. But Jesus flips this script. In the kingdom of God, greatness is not measured by status, title, or applause, but by humility, self-giving, and the ability to put others before ourselves.

Notice how Jesus doesn’t simply criticize pride; He invites us to a new way of living. He teaches us to take the lower place not out of false modesty, but in sincere recognition that all we have is gift, and that we are all guests at the table of God’s mercy. He encourages us to invite “the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind”—those who cannot repay us—because in doing so, we imitate the generous heart of our Heavenly Father.

“Humility is not thinking less of yourself; it is thinking of yourself less. Humility is thinking more of others.” (Rick Warren, The Purpose Driven Life: What on Earth Am I Here For?)

As we reflect on this Gospel, I encourage you to ponder:

In what areas of my life am I seeking recognition or status instead of quietly serving with love?

Who is someone I can invite into my life or my home, not for what they can give me, but simply out of love?

Let’s read what St. Paul says to Philippians 2:1-11 and to our Parish Family on imitating Christ’s humility – our Role Model.

May we follow Christ, who humbled Himself to walk among us, so that we might one day be exalted with Him.