September 2025
My Dear Friends,
This is, without question, the most difficult letter I have ever had to write. As many of you know, these past several years have brought their share of health challenges: countless tests and evaluations, several cardiac procedures, and, most recently, a hip revision surgery that proved more complicated than anticipated. This past spring, I was even hospitalized twice, which kept me from joining you for the sacred celebrations of Holy Week, which was a great sorrow for me.
Through it all, I have gained clarity. I have been diagnosed with Restrictive Cardiomyopathy. A healthy heart has the flexibility of a balloon; mine, sadly, has become more like a basketball, stiff and unable to respond as it should to exertion and stress. My doctors have explained that the only way to add years to my life would be a full heart transplant. After much prayer and discernment, I have chosen not to pursue that path. Instead, I place myself in the hands of the Divine Physician, trusting Him to do with me as He wills. And in that trust, I have found peace.
What this means, however, is that I must now step back. I never imagined I would be uttering the word “retire” so soon. Yet my doctors and I believe that a life with fewer demands may ease my struggles and, with God’s grace, extend my time.
To call this simply “retirement” feels inadequate. A job is something one leaves behind. Priesthood has never been a job for me: it is my very identity, my life, my vocation, and a gift from God. I never really saw myself as being anything other than a priest. So, in many ways, I am not retiring from work but from a family. And that, dear friends, is the hardest part of all. I feel so blessed to be here with you.
I love you deeply – even if I do not know your name – and I reverence each of your journeys of faith. Your stories have become woven into mine and letting go of the daily rhythm of walking with you will not be easy. It is why I write to you now, rather than trying to speak these words aloud. To do so face-to-face would be too painful.
Please know that you will always remain in my prayers and in my heart, as I ask for yours in return. Together, may we continue to trust in the God who calls us all to live in faith, hope, and love. That said, I have a few favors to ask of you.
First, please stay together. SS. Isidore and Maria Parish is a wonderful, loving community of faith. I know that we are going through a great deal of change. It will be okay. Trust in the Holy Spirit to lead you forward and remember the power that comes when two or three are gathered in Jesus’ name. Preserve and enhance what we have built together.
Second, please pray for me. It is a simple prayer, without complication. Pray that God’s will be done. We are not alone on this road of life, and we are never abandoned. Remember the wise words of Julian of Norwich: “God made me. God loves me. God sustains me.” This applies both here and in eternity. Cherish each day God allows you to have and don’t waste opportunities for laughter and joy. They are there, even amid the clouds.
I must thank my seminary classmate, Archbishop Christopher Coyne, and our Vicar for Priests, Father John Melnick, for their unwavering support and empathy during this difficult time. They have been wonderful, and I am so grateful. Having been offered an immediate retirement by the Archbishop, I requested to stay at SS. Isidore and Maria until Jan. 1, 2026. I am very grateful to Archbishop Coyne for granting my request. Please know that the Archdiocese is working on a succession plan, and more details on that will be communicated as they are known.
In parting, I ask you to please save the date of Nov. 9 at 11:15 a.m. This will be an opportunity to celebrate a Mass of Thanksgiving for our years together and my upcoming “retirement.” More details will follow shortly.
Be assured of my continued love and prayers. While the days ahead will be emotional, they also speak to something real and true: a gift from God that has touched all of us in some profoundly meaningful ways. It was meant to be for the time it was able to be shared.
With love and blessings, your Pastor and friend always,
Father Mark