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.

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

In the Sunday’s Gospel (Luke 13:22–30), someone asks Jesus, “Lord, will only a few be saved?” It’s a question that still echoes in many hearts today. But Jesus doesn’t give a number—He gives an invitation:

“Strive to enter through the narrow gate.”

He doesn’t want us to get caught up in numbers or worry about others. Instead, He gently turns our focus to the journey each of us is on. In other words: Don’t be anxious about who’s ahead or behind—just keep walking with Me.

Think of a hiker on a steep mountain trail who asks someone coming down, “How many people will make it to the top?” It’s a fair question, but it won’t help him climb. The real question is: Will you keep going?

Jesus teaches us that one virtue is essential for this journey: perseverance. Not perfection, not popularity—just the steady decision to keep going, one step at a time, even when it’s hard. In Matthew 24:13, Jesus tells us, “The one who perseveres to the end will be saved”.

The narrow gate is not meant to scare us. It reminds us that the way of love, truth, and holiness is not always easy—but it is good. And it leads to life. We all have mountains to climb: struggles in our families, weaknesses, temptations, grief, or simply the fatigue of daily life. But you’re not climbing alone. Christ is with you. His grace will strengthen you—through prayer, through the sacraments, and through small, daily acts of faith.

So, take heart. Keep praying. Stay faithful. Help each other along the way. And let us remember—heaven is not far from those who keep walking with God.

Reflective Questions:

Where in my life do I feel tired or tempted to give up?

What does it look like for me to “strive” right now—not perfectly, but faithfully?

Who in my life might need a word of encouragement to keep going?

Dear St. John XXIII Parish Family,

The readings for Sunday remind us that in life we often experience struggle, opposition, and moments when we feel overwhelmed. In times like these, we join the Psalmist in praying:

“Lord, come to my aid.” (Psalm 40:14)

In the first reading (Jeremiah 38:4–6, 8–10), the prophet Jeremiah is thrown into a muddy cistern for proclaiming God’s message. He is left to sink and die, but God does not abandon him. Through the courage of Ebed-melech, a servant in the king’s house, Jeremiah is lifted out of the pit. In moments when we feel stuck or forgotten, God is near and working through others to help us.

In the Gospel (Luke 12:49–53), Jesus says something startling:

“I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already blazing!… Do you think that I have come to establish peace on the earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.”

These words remind us that following Jesus often involves hard choices. His message of truth can bring conflict—even among families. But this fire Jesus speaks of is the fire of transformation. It purifies, awakens, and sets hearts on fire for God’s kingdom. We are not called to be comfortable—we are called to be faithful.

In the second reading (Hebrews 12:1–4), we are encouraged to “run with perseverance the race that lies before us,” keeping our eyes on Jesus, “the leader and perfecter of faith.” He endured the cross and all its shame because of the joy set before Him. When we feel weary, we are reminded not to lose heart. Christ has gone before us—and now walks beside us.

So, when we pray, “Lord, come to my aid,” we are not praying into silence. In fact, we are speaking to a living God who hears us, strengthens us, and answers us with mercy and power.

🕊️ This Week’s Reflection

Is there an area of my life where God is asking me to stay faithful, even when it’s difficult, even at the cost of comfort or approval? (Luke 12:51–53; Hebrews 12:1–3)

Do I truly believe that when I pray, “O Lord, come to my aid,” He hears me and will act as He acted in the life of Jeremiah? (Psalm 40:2–4, 14; Jeremiah 38:10)

May the Lord bless you, strengthen your faith, and give you peace in every challenge.
Please know of my prayers for each of you and may we remember those in need of our prayers.

Vigilance and Readiness

Dear Beloved in Christ,

This Sunday, the Gospel invites us into a profound and timely reflection on the state of our hearts, calling us to be spiritually vigilant and ever prepared for the return of our Lord. In the words of Jesus, we hear a call to “gird our loins and light our lamps,” an ancient image reminding us to be ever watchful, like servants awaiting their master’s return from a wedding feast.

In our fast-paced, busy lives, it is easy to forget the call to live in a state of constant readiness. Yet, Jesus reminds us that the truly blessed are those servants whom the master finds alert and prepared upon His arrival. The master will not only reward their vigilance but will serve them, a beautiful reversal that highlights the unmerited generosity of God’s love.

This parable is not about living in fear, but in joyful expectation. It invites us to live each day in the awareness that our Lord is always near, and that, at any moment, He may return to call us home. Our vigilance is an invitation to remain connected to Him, day by day, moment by moment, ready to open the door to His love whenever He knocks.

The question we are invited to ponder is: Are we living with such readiness? As we reflect on the Gospel, we can ask ourselves:

1. How can I cultivate greater spiritual readiness in my daily life? Are there habits I need to change or practices I need to adopt in order to grow more vigilant in my faith?

2. In what ways does my life reflect a waiting for the Lord’s return? Do I truly live as if I expect Him to return at any moment? How does this shape my interactions with others and my love for God?

An Invitation to Adoration and Prayer

As we reflect on this theme of vigilance, we are called not just to think about these questions, but to encounter Jesus more deeply in prayer. This Tuesday, August 12, we have a special opportunity to do so, as we join our Bishop Reverend Robert Gruss for a Holy Hour of Adoration from 7pm to 8 pm at Sacred Heart Church in Merrill. This time of prayer and quiet reflection will provide us with a sacred space to renew our hearts and minds, allowing the peace of Christ to fill us with a deeper sense of readiness.

I invite each of you to come and spend time with the Lord this Tuesday evening. Together, let us wait on Him, placing our lives in His hands and asking for the strength to remain vigilant in our faith, in our families, and in our community.

Let us approach this time of Adoration with open hearts, prepared to receive all that God desires to give us.