“Merry Christmas!” is the greeting you will hear many times during this season. Glorious though this greeting sounds, it sometimes masks the deeper meaning of Christmas, which is sadly reduced to being a festival when you ‘shop till you drop’.
Christmas this year will be gentler, perhaps tinged with tears, but also threaded with gratitude, for the years God granted, the love that deepened with time, and the priceless heritage of family.
Christmas embodies hope, the hope rooted in the birth of Jesus, the Light of the world. His arrival in a humble manger carries the promise of peace, renewal, and love.
The Feast of the Immaculate Conception, celebrated each year on December 8, now speaks to me not of perfection, but of preparation, how God readies hearts long before miracles unfold.
Beyond the festive folklore, St. Nicholas of Myra emerges as a courageous and compassionate bishop whose real-life witness continues to inspire the Church today.
“How could that which, from nonexistence, has been given existence, be God?... But I also venerate and respect all the rest of matter which has brought me salvation, since it is full of energy and holy graces,” St. John Damascene wrote.
It is only on hindsight that I’ve managed to see the patterns that God has been weaving in my life. Disparate incidents and experiences now make sense as I see God’s plans woven like a rich tapestry, complete with their patterns and colours.
The title Mother of Mercy (Mater Misericordiae) holds a singular and profound place in Christian tradition, theology, and devotion. It unites two inseparable dimensions of Mary’s vocation, her divine motherhood and her merciful intercession.
Every Thursday, Pilar Hillock in Goa, western India, comes alive with hymns and prayers as pilgrims climb the slope, candles in hand, seeking grace through the intercession of Ven. Fr. Agnelo de Souza.
Our Living Savior is near to those who wait in faith. He turns mourning into joy, despair into hope, and loss into deeper love. As Scripture reminds us, “Let us be glad and rejoice in His salvation.” (Isaiah 25:9)
The laboratory and the chapel are not as far apart as we imagine. Both are places where the human heart confronts mystery, where silence and wonder become the truest forms of prayer.
The story of Indian Catholic chef James Biaka reads like an inspiring recipe, one stirred with perseverance, seasoned with creativity, and garnished with faith.
