"Go and diligently search for the child.” “He must increase; I must decrease.”

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ, In this New Year, we are called and invited to diligently search for the Christ Child, Jesus. In relation to this, we are to decrease and allow Jesus to increase in our lives. In reference to the First Letter of John: “If anyone sees his brother sinning, if the sin is not deadly, he should pray to God, and he will give him life. This is only for those whose sin is not deadly.

“To the church of God that is in Corinth, to you who have been sanctified in Christ Jesus, called to be holy…” (1 Cor 1:2a)

In Paul’s language, to be a Christian means to be “in Christ Jesus”. It’s more than believing in Jesus or accepting him. Through baptism we were made members of the Body of Christ, and that means we are now in Christ.  According to Paul as members of the mystical Body of Christ (i.e., the Church), we do not belong to ourselves anymore. We are no longer our own. We are “in Christ.”

St. Stanislaus Catholic School stands out as an exceptional educational institution that nurtures both the mind and spirit, blending strong faith with a rigorous academic curriculum to develop well-rounded students. Our dedicated educators foster a love of learning through such programs as our innovative STEAM program, preparing children for the challenges of tomorrow. Additionally, we take pride in our stellar athletics program, promoting teamwork and perseverance alongside physical fitness.

MANY PEOPLE often go to fortune-tellers in order to know what their future would be or see how their future would look like. By merely looking at the stars, fortune tellers could foretell future events. Future events for them may be good or bad, depending on the arrangement of the stars. Sad to say, many of us Christians believe more on what they say rather than what the Sacred Scripture says. They put so much faith in fortune-tellers, and they are a kind of surrendering their own fate to them.

When I was ten, my dad gathered our family around the table in small-town Vermont and told us we were moving to the big desert city of Phoenix, Arizona. We were leaving behind family, friends, and everything familiar. None of us knew what to expect.

But something beautiful happened. As we made the move together, our family grew closer. In retrospect, I’m amazed at my parents’ courage to go on that adventure. Even as a kid I realized our family found, in that challenge, a deeper unity and mutual love.

My brothers and sisters,

Something is on the horizon - a New Day is dawning!

As Scripture says: “Stand erect and raise your heads because your redemption is at hand.” Lk. 21:28

May this Advent Season be a reflective and thought-provoking time for each and everyone of us. Let us encounter the calm of the season as we seek reconciliation with our God and neighbor.

In this 3rd Sunday of Advent we hear from the gospel: “Behold,.I.am.sending.my.messenger.ahead.of.you;. he.will.prepare.your.way.before.you.” This is referring to John the Baptist, but in many ways, Mary, the first disciple, also prepares the way for us to come to Jesus.

This past Monday we celebrated the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

On this First Sunday of Advent, so many centuries after the time of Christ, there is a pertinent question we might consider. What is the primary reason for our faith in Jesus Christ? Many Christians, perhaps a majority, would say that having faith is essential if one wishes to have heaven as a destination. Keeping the faith, it is widely thought, is how one avoids the eternal flames of fire, and is thus granted eternal life. And so, the focus of many people is “getting saved,” which is seen as a strictly individual matter. But God in Christ is redeeming the world, not merely inoculating individuals one by one. Faith is trusting in God’s love and living for the future fulfillment of God’s redemptive purposes for creation.

Not long ago, I was called to a hospital to anoint a woman in her early 80s. She was dying, and visibly in pain. But what struck me most wasn’t her suffering — it was the atmosphere in the room. She had eight children and 30 foster kids, and many of them were gathered around her. You’d expect sorrow, fear, maybe even despair. But the room was filled with something else entirely — a quiet strength, a kind of sweetness. It was as if she was suffering not just with them, but for them. And they, in love, were suffering for her. The pain was real. But so was the peace. I didn’t want to run. I felt as if I was in a little paradise, beeping machines and all.

When I was a kid growing up in New England, I’d occasionally go on a whale watch. Once we went out with calm waters and clear skies. But on the way back in, the sea got rough. I was just a kid, and I remember thinking we should turn left or right toward the shoreline I could see. But the pilot of the boat kept going straight — right into the waves — focused on a small, discouragingly distant lighthouse. Even when it flickered in and out of sight, he stayed the course. He knew where he was going.

This Sunday's Gospel, according to Saint John, places us in an episode close to the Jewish Passover (Jn 2:13-22), in which the Jewish people commemorated their liberation from slavery in Egypt. In this celebration, animal sacrifices were offered for the forgiveness of the sins of individuals and the community, and it was also a way of drawing closer to God.

Jesus is indignant when he sees the way the people and the merchants are behaving, and he begins to drive out the merchants who were in the temple, saying to them, “Take all these things away; do not make my Father’s house a marketplace” (Jn 2:16).

Dear Parish and School Families,

As we gather to celebrate the Feast of All Souls, my heart is drawn to the quiet moments of remembrance that this sacred day invites. In our Catholic tradition, November 2nd is set aside to honor and pray for all the faithful departed, our loved ones, our ancestors, and even those who have no one left to pray for them by name. It is a beautiful and solemn reminder that in Christ, death does not end our story, it transforms it.