May this sacred celebration renew our spirits and deepen our love for one another.

Lessons and Carols is a traditional Christian service that combines scripture readings and festive hymns to celebrate the story of Christ’s birth.

By preparing our hearts to receive Jesus as John did, we ready ourselves to become generation-changing saints too: where the world clamors for retribution, we show forgiveness; where there’s an appetite for darkness, we bear the light; and where there’s hatred, we love like John.

(But) Advent is a time for choosing. When Jesus comes to us, will our hearts be heavy and lethargic? Or will they be light and swift to respond? 

It would have boggled the Roman mind, and very often we don’t grasp it much better. But the simple fact is that in Jesus’s kingdom to reign is to love, even if it costs everything.

If we are to inherit the life of God himself, we can’t wait. We must live into his will right now, and every moment thereafter.

But as the story of the widow’s mite makes clear, generosity is not primarily about the size of the gift; rather, it’s about the disposition of heart with which the gift is given.

We’re desperate to get it right - to find the words that will unite us once and for all with God and each other. In true Jesus-fashion, he gives even more than was asked for: not just one, but two great commandments. And his answer is what it always is: love.

Perhaps above all, saints don’t wait. They understand that now is the time to serve, now is the time to love, now is the time for all on Earth to be as it is in Heaven.

Jesus makes very clear in today’s Gospel that service is his whole reason for being.

But before that makes us sad, and before we walk away from the whole thing, we should keep this in mind: the things that appear to be of absolute necessity from our vantage point are often nothing more than grains of sand from God’s vantage point.

Think about the people you struggle to love most, and then remember that Jesus has stopped at nothing to be one with them too. Are we called to anything less?

Whatever it is - wealth, pleasure, prestige, even a relationship - if we’re terrified of living without it, better to let it go altogether.

We all tend to prefer ourselves to God, and the bitter fruit of giving into that temptation is division - within the world, within the Church, and within ourselves.

Our plans might be full of all good things, but they’re still just that: our plans. God thinks bigger.

"Unfortunately, most of us don’t consistently practice the same listening skills with God....Whatever the reason, we’re often deaf to his word and oblivious to his will. "

Our Lady of Mount Carmel and Lumen Gentium Academy exist to plant the seed of God’s word in every student’s heart, and to help it grow into complete and vibrant abundance.

It’s been said that true love is a decisive act. It must be decisive, because the moment you choose, a million and more reasons not to follow through will seep into the slightest crevice of indecision.

Because when the blood, sweat, and tears are shed for love, there’s no wiser or more enduring choice to be made.

Nourished by Jesus’ own body and blood, we find the strength to journey wherever God leads us, for as long as it takes, persevering in the love that endures forever. 

 The Good News is that, no matter how mixed up and muddled we might be, Jesus remains eager to satisfy our deepest hunger. Put another way, Jesus is our salvation: When we turn over our hearts and lives to him we are restored and rejuvenated by his love; we are healed and made whole by his mercy; we are nourished and sustained by the Bread of Life, his Body and Blood.

 As with his other mighty works, there's more to Jesus' feeding the multitude than meets the eye. Think, for instance, of the reality that nothing Jesus does is for show. He's never gunning for power or pursuing a political advantage.

 The good news is that he has come to deliver his flock, offering both a warning and a word of comfort in his wake.

Today, as we celebrate Our Lady of Mount Carmel’s feast, we would do well to entrust ourselves to her all over again, so that our hearts may become ever more like hers: filled with relentless love that even death cannot defeat.

Paradoxically, it is when we too can become weak and vulnerable - when we accept and embrace our utter reliance on God for everything - that we will become most like him.

Every time we choose Jesus, he does the same for us. From an angle of skepticism it might seem impossible to the point of ridiculous, but we know from centuries of wisdom that he is in fact on a rescue mission, and we’re the ones he’s come to rescue.

Because once we remember that we worship a God whom even wind and sea obey, and that he loves us exactly as we are, the power of others' opinions begins to fade.

It’s fitting that we would encounter the mustard tree’s humble beginnings on Father’s Day, because so much of fatherhood is about those moments of silent vigilance.

“[But] “only human” is all we need to be, because there’s someone else with us in those moments, and he is the source of unity himself.”

Jesus did not suffer and die for the unnamed masses. He does not offer his body and blood to some random stranger who happens to be in the communion line. His love is not poured out on everyone interchangeably. It is poured out individually, in a unique friendship that will never be repeated and can never be replaced.