We have been chosen and sent by the Holy Spirit on our mission to build up the Kingdom of God as Catholic educators, whether in Catholic or non-Catholic schools.

In his great 1975 Apostolic Exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi (Proclaiming the Gospel) – which we reflected on in Sowers February 2026 – Pope Paul VI wrote: “The Holy Spirit is the principal agent of the whole of the Church’s mission.” (EN 21)

But who exactly is the Holy Spirit? And how is the Spirit the “principal agent” of our mission?

During this liturgically significant month, the Church celebrates the Solemnity of the Ascension of the Lord on 14 May, the end of Eastertide on Pentecost Sunday 24 May, and the Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity on 31 May. These celebrations have much to teach us about the Holy Spirit.

Trinity Sunday: The Holy Spirit is the third person of the Holy Trinity

The Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC) says: “When the Father sends his Word, he always sends his Breath.” (CCC 689) “The Word of God and his Breath are at the origin of the being and life of every creature.” (CCC 703).

St Augustine famously described the Holy Trinity as Lover (Father), Beloved (Son), and Love (Holy Spirit), i.e. the Love of the Father for the Son, and the Son for the Father, and the Love both Father and Son have for each other and every human person created in their image and likeness.

The Spirit is the Love that has been “poured into our hearts” (Romans 5:5) and dwells within us, making us “temples of the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 6:19).

The Holy Spirit is the spirit of the Risen Christ who will be with us “always, until the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). He was last person of the Trinity to be revealed, on Pentecost Sunday. Since the Holy Spirit is pure spirit, he cannot be seen or ‘known’ except through the effects of his actions.

So when persons are moved or touched by the Holy Spirit, they may cry tears of joy or repentance, feel a warmth as though enveloped in a loving embrace, trembling like a leaf with awe or wonder, or perhaps some or all of the above coupled with a lightening of the heart and a soaring of the soul as though a weight is lifted, or shackles untied.

Hence, the Holy Spirit is often symbolised by water, fire, wind and a dove, traditionally a sign of peace, gentleness and freedom.

But more often than not, the Holy Spirit works in undramatic, imperceptible and unseen ways. Take how he mysteriously transubstantiates the bread and wine at the Epiclesis during every Eucharistic celebration when the priest prays: Make holy, therefore, these gifts, we pray, by sending down your Spirit upon them like the dewfall, so that they may become for us the Body and + Blood of our Lord, Jesus Christ.

In the same way, the Holy Spirit is at work, silently and subtly, but slowly and surely, in the lives of all of us faithful, and those whom we pray for, all the time. He is our other ‘advocate’ – ‘one who has our back’ – forever, with Jesus, our first advocate (John 14:16).

Pentecost: The Holy Spirit is the soul of the Church, the Body of Christ

Although Pentecost is often referred to as the “birthday of the Church”, technically, the Church was born on Good Friday.

“The origin and growth of the Church are symbolised by the blood and water which flowed from the open side of the crucified Christ [water and blood symbolising the life-giving sacraments of Baptism and Eucharist]. As Eve was formed from the sleeping Adam’s side, so the Church [the Bride of Christ] was born from the pierced heart of Christ hanging dead on the cross.” (CCC 766)

But it was only on Pentecost Sunday that “the Church was openly displayed to the crowds and the spread of the Gospel among the nations, through preaching, was begun.” (CCC 767)

The outpouring of the Holy Spirit transformed and empowered the motley crew of 11 ordinary, most uneducated, men on the street into extraordinary prophets and witnesses who proclaimed Christ and handed on his teachings with such boldness and zeal that 2,000 years later, we have received the same.

This is why Pope Paul VI wrote (EN 24): “The Holy Spirit is indeed the principal agent of the whole of the Church’s mission. His action can clearly be seen in the early Church: in the conversion of Cornelius (Acts 10), in the decisions made about emerging problems (Acts 15) and in the choice of regions and peoples to be evangelised (Acts 16:6ff). The Spirit worked through the apostles, but at the same time he was also at work in those who heard them: Through his action, the Good News takes shape in human minds and hearts and extends through history. In all of this it is the Holy Spirit who gives life.” (emphasis mine)

If you are reading Sowers today, it is because the Holy Spirit has been, and still is, working in you, and wants to work through you to shape the minds and hearts of your students and everyone else whose life you touch.

Ascension Thursday: The Holy Spirit, the powerhouse of mission

Just before his ascension into heaven, Jesus enjoined his apostles not to leave Jerusalem: “You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you, and then you will be my witnesses not only in Jerusalem but throughout Judaea and Samaria, and indeed to the ends of the earth.” (Acts 1:8)

Pope Paul VI wrote: “Evangelisation will never be possible without the action of the Holy Spirit. The Spirit descends on Jesus of Nazareth at the moment of His baptism when the voice of the Father – ‘This is my beloved Son with whom I am well pleased’ (Matthew 3:17) – manifests in an external way the election of Jesus and His mission.

Jesus is ‘led by the Spirit’ to experience in the desert the decisive combat and the supreme test before beginning this mission (Matthew 4:1). It is ‘in the power of the Spirit’ (Luke 4:14) that he returns to Galilee and begins his preaching at Nazareth… To the disciples whom He was about to send forth He says, breathing on them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit’ (John 20:22). (EN 75)

In the same way, “When the first evangelisers go down from Jerusalem, the Spirit becomes even more of a ‘guide’, helping them to choose both those to whom they are to go and the places to which their missionary journey is to take them. The working of the Spirit is manifested particularly in the impetus given to the mission which, in accordance with Christ’s words, spreads out from Jerusalem to all of Judea and Samaria, and to the farthest ends of the earth.” (EN 24)

Wherever the Good News was proclaimed, communities of faith quickly sprang up. As Pope St John Paul II pointed out in his 1990 Encyclical Redemptoris Missio (The Mission of Christ the Redeemer): “One of the central purposes of mission is to bring people together in hearing the Gospel, in fraternal communion, in prayer and in the Eucharist. To live in ‘fraternal communion’ (koinonia) means to be ‘of one heart and soul’ (Acts 4:32), establishing fellowship from every point of view: human, spiritual and material… The first communities, made up of ‘glad and generous hearts’ (Acts 2:46), were open and missionary: they enjoyed ‘favour with all the people’ (Acts 2:47). Even before activity, mission means witness and a way of life that shines out to others.”

This is the work of the Holy Spirit, who brings about communion in mission, mirroring the perfect communion of the Holy Trinity and their joint mission to “awaken faith in us and to communicate to us the new life, which is to know the Father and the one whom he has sent Jesus Christ” according to God’s plan for our salvation (CCC 684).

Today, he wants to be the powerhouse of our mission too. Will allow him to take charge?

Mary, Mother of the Church and St Joseph: Filled with the Holy Spirit

It is no coincidence that the memorial of Mary, Mother of the Church takes place one day after Pentecost, this year on May 25.

Instituted by Pope Francis in 2018, the celebration emphasises Mary’s maternal care and continued intercession for the Church: having received the Holy Spirit already at the Annunciation, she was in the Upper Room praying for and with the apostles as they awaited the coming of the Holy Spirit. Together with Christ, she too will be with us ‘always, until the end of the age’.

So too will St Joseph, whom Pius IX had proclaimed the patron saint of the Universal Church in 1870. In 1889, Leo XIII proclaimed him patron saint of fathers and workers, and in 1955, Pope Pius XII instituted the feast of St Joseph the Worker on May 1. He too had been visited by the Spirit on various occasions after the Annunciation, and had obeyed the Spirit’s promptings in taking Mary as his wife, fleeing to and returning from Egypt after the Nativity, and providing for the Holy Family all his life.

Both Mary and Joseph, as good parents and educators, had taught Christ the Jewish holy scriptures and the teachings of the rabbis in the witness of their lives.

May we seek the intercession of Our Lady, St Joseph and the Holy Trinity as we continue our Communion In Mission as Catholic educators, and as missionaries in our families, schools and marketplaces, doing our bit to pray and work for peace in society and the world.

And may this liturgically rich month of May immerse us, and help us treasure even more the spiritual riches of our faith.


So, we know our God is a Triune God. Now which Person of the Holy Trinity do you relate to most easily or most often?

Some of us may relate best to God the Father, whom I’m sure many of us picture as a kindly old bearded man. I, for one, have often imagined myself lying on the Father’s lap and feeling utterly comfortable and secure.

Or perhaps some of us relate best to Jesus, who is easy to picture as a friend who walks beside us or as a shepherd who leads us to rest in green pastures. Sometimes, when I am feeling down, I imagine Jesus coming up from behind, placing his arm round my neck and speaking words of affirmation and assurance, and instantly I experience his warmth and closeness.

But unlike the Father and the Son, the Holy Spirit, I suspect, can be somewhat difficult to relate to for many of us. And the symbols used of him in the Scriptures aren’t very helpful in this regard – a dove isn’t particularly cuddly, and the wind and fire of Pentecost can make him appear more dramatic or scary than approachable. This, unfortunately, often leads to the Holy Spirit being neglected – some may even forget he is God and refer to him as “it”.

Agent of Communion

True, we don’t often picture the Holy Spirit as a Person, the way we do the Father and the Son. At most, we may think of him as a bird flying overhead or an invisible force that moves within us and across the world.

Nevertheless, the truth is that the Holy Spirit manifests himself in the Body of Christ and in the world in tangible ways. See the community worshipping God together in a song of praise? That’s the Holy Spirit at work. See people using their gifts and talents to serve the community? There’s the Holy Spirit too. See estranged friends, relatives or colleagues being reconciled? Again, the Holy Spirit.

Indeed, the Holy Spirit plays a crucial role as the agent of communion within the Church, fostering unity among believers and enabling us to live as the Body of Christ. And the communion he brings about is multidimensional:

  • Communion with God and with neighbour: The Spirit breaks down barriers of sin and division and enables us to be drawn into deeper communion with God and with one another.
  • Eucharistic communion: The Spirit is intimately involved in the celebration of the Eucharist, through which we partake of the divine life and are united with Christ and with one another.
  • Communion in the Church’s life: The Spirit sustains the life of the Church by inspiring harmony in her teachings, sacramental life and hierarchical structure.

Communion in Mission

In the Church, we come from diverse backgrounds, and the Holy Spirit binds us together as one family in Christ. The unity we share in the Church is not uniformity – this is something I believe we all know but can easily forget when we have to work and interact with brothers and sisters who think or behave differently from us.

Instead, what the Spirit creates from our diversity is a rich tapestry of gifts and charisms working together for the common good:

“The gifts he gave were that some would be apostles, some pastors and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ.” (Ephesians 4:11–12 NRSV)

And in the body of Christ, “God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose” (1 Corinthians 12:18 NRSV).

After teaching us that we are all members of the body of Christ, St Paul says, “Strive for the greater gifts. And I will show you a still more excellent way.” (1 Corinthians 12:31 NRSV) And then he goes on to talk about love:

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.” (1 Corinthians 13:4–6 ESV)

We need to ask ourselves then: How much of this description applies to me? Am I patient and kind, or arrogant and rude? Do I insist on my own way, or do I rejoice with the truth? After all, the common good is what we are working for, not our own individual good; the body of Christ is all of us together, and we cannot say to anyone, ‘I have no need of you’ (1 Corinthians 12:21 NRSV); and the kingdom we are building is God’s, not ours.

Friendship with the Spirit

And here’s where the Holy Spirit comes in again. His grace is what we need to achieve this ideal state, to work with one another in true communion in mission. And in the process of fostering communion, he does his work in each of us personally, softening our hearts, moulding our minds, forming in us the image of Jesus.

This is just what I have experienced. As I look back over the years, I can see how far I have come – how much my outlook and my ways have changed. And every morning I still pray for the grace to cooperate with the Spirit’s grace as he continues to lead me and guide me and shape me.

We may not imagine ourselves snuggling up to him, but the Holy Spirit, Lord and giver of life, is without doubt our true friend, our steadfast companion, our indispensable guide. If you have yet to discover the joys of his friendship, why not ask him for that gift today?

 

In Aesop’s fable of Hercules and the Wagoner, when a man gets his wagon stuck in mud, instead of pushing it out himself, he kneels and prays to Hercules for aid. Hercules appears and replies: “Put your shoulder to the wheel, urge on your horses, and then call on Hercules to help!” The man does so, freeing the wagon easily. The moral of the fable is stated as “Heaven helps those who help themselves”.

Centuries later, this moral was borrowed into Christianity, and many parents, mine included, would often tell their children: “God helps those who help themselves.” No doubt this was meant to discourage laziness, but then where does prayer come in?

St Ignatius of Loyola had a much better maxim: “Work as if everything depends on you; pray as if everything depends on God.” It’s a call to live with both a work-attitude and a prayer-attitude at the same time: working in a spirit of prayerful dependence, and praying alongside responsible action.

Persistence in prayer

With this in mind, it is helpful to ask ourselves: How much do I pray? Do I turn to God in times of need? Do I deal with situations with God or without him? I suspect that many of us, having been taught that “God helps those who help themselves” and having been reminded in well-intentioned homilies not to treat God like a divine vending machine, may have developed the habit of relying on our own resources or on our families and friends in most circumstances instead of looking to God for help.

But is that what God expects of us? Listen to his lament: “I was ready to be sought out by those who did not ask, to be found by those who did not seek me. I said, ‘Here I am, here I am,’ to a nation that did not call on my name.” (Isaiah 65:1–2 NRSV)

Time and again, in both the Old and New Testaments, through prophets and psalmists and in the Person of Jesus, God invites, exhorts and even commands us to turn to him and ask him for whatever we need. Here are two instances:

  • “Call on me in the day of trouble; I will deliver you, and you shall glorify me.” (Psalm 50[49]:15 NRSV)
  • “Until now you have not asked for anything in my name. Ask and you will receive, so that your joy may be complete.” (John 16:24 NRSV)

Jesus even told the parables of the persistent widow (Luke 18:1–8) and the friend at midnight (Luke 11:5–13) to instruct us to keep asking God for what we need and not give up: “I tell you, even though he will not get up and give him anything because he is his friend, at least because of his persistence he will get up and give him whatever he needs.” (Luke 11:8 NRSV) So, yes, we have his permission to pester God with our requests!

Promises of answered prayer

Notice, too, that God doesn’t just ask us to call on him: he promises that our prayers will be answered. Here are a few more examples:

  • “When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honour him.” (Psalm 91[90]:15 ESV)
  • “Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.” (Matthew 7:7 ESV)
  • “I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours.” (Mark 11:24 NRSV)

At this point, I’m sure many of us will protest that this just doesn’t square with our own experience. As Pope Francis puts it: “How often have we asked and not received – we have all experienced this – how many times have we knocked and found a closed door?” Why is this so? On this side of Heaven, we can never be sure, of course.

But Pope Francis continues: “Jesus advises us, in those moments, to persist and to not give up. Prayer always transforms reality, always. If things around us do not change, at least we change; our heart changes… We can be certain that God will respond… He promised us this: he is not like a father who gives a serpent instead of a fish.” (General Audience, 9 Jan 2019)

I can testify that I have had so many of my prayer requests fulfilled time and again, from the biggest matters to the smallest details like finding a parking space in a crowded car park (“Hail, Mary, full of grace, get for me a parking space!”). And whenever my prayer wasn’t answered in the way I wanted, I always found my heart and my perspective changed. In the process, I have gradually become more acquainted with the way God works – and that growth in my relationship with him is ultimately the most important, because that’s what prayer is really about, isn’t it?

Perseverance in hope

What we need then is an attitude of persistence in prayer and hope in God’s faithfulness to his promises. And this hope, as we reflected during the Jubilee last year, will not disappoint us, “because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (Romans 5:5 ESV). And remember that “the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.” (Romans 8:26–27 ESV)

And we will pray, and pray persistently, knowing that God is our loving and providential Father, who only desires the best for us. But we also pray with humility, not with an attitude of entitlement or presumption, because, after all, God is God and we are not, and whatever wisdom we may claim to have is definitely no match for his.

St John Paul II says: “I plead with you – never, ever give up on hope; never doubt, never tire and never become discouraged. Be not afraid.” Whenever we find ourselves in any need, no matter how big or small, let’s not rely on human strength alone. Let’s turn to God and pray – persistently. Because the truth, as I have learnt from my own experience, is that God helps those who CANNOT help themselves. Thanks be to God for that!

Photo: Canva Pro

“Brothers, what we do in life… echoes in eternity.” This quote from the movie Gladiator always struck me as very Christian. Maximus the gladiator was a pagan, yet he had intuited that actions on earth do matter.

In some way, this was also my own teaching motto.

“What I teach in time echoes in eternity.” And as a Catholic educator, this is even more so in the light of the Resurrection.

When our Lord rose from the dead, he inaugurates the beginning of the new heavens and the new earth, where every tear would be wiped away.

In the Dec 2025 issue of the Sowers, I shared about how as a Catholic educator, the deepest joy would be seeing your former students find their direction in life, and come to accept Jesus Christ as the way, truth and life.

Fast forward to April 2026, and I find myself with the immense privilege of witnessing, as his godfather, my ex-student Brandon Augustine Law, accepting Christ and being baptised at the Easter Vigil.

What follows is his own reflection on the mystery of the Resurrection in the light of his own journey to accepting Christ.

May it be a source of consolation and inspiration to my fellow Catholic educators!

Initial disbelief and error

Resurrection, or delusion? Before my conversion, I certainly felt it was the latter. I did think that the man Jesus Christ taught some relevant moral lessons, but he could not possibly have been divine. That, I chalked up to delusion. It proved beneficial to occasionally invoke some of his teachings. I sometimes felt the need to ‘turn the other cheek,’ or ‘go the extra mile,’ but saying this man rose from the dead? That would be too far.

Religion seemed to me to be a tool for maintaining order, and I felt I did not need to comply. In my arrogance, I believed that God spoke some truth about morality but somehow lied about who he was; I took from Christianity what was expedient to myself and discarded the rest as make-believe. In my blindness I could not see that I was the one making up my beliefs. As the Psalmist writes: My heart overflowed with follies, and I set my mouth against the heavens.

I observed devout Christians living out the Catholic faith in the hope of a resurrection that, I believed, would not come, and I could not help but find it foolish. Do they not see how they are being controlled? Have they not a mind of their own? My modern sensibilities could not process true piety.

Absurdity to possibility

One day, I got into a discussion with a Christian friend. We were talking about what it meant to be a ‘good person’. To me it was uncontroversial to call my friends ‘good people’ whereas this Christian seemed adamant in his view that no one was good. “Jesus himself said so,” I remember him telling me.

I was incredulous. We see good people around us all the time, and even though we might class some under ‘bad’, surely saying that no one is good is too extreme.

The position is, by worldly standards, a radical one. But this seemingly untenable – and almost provocative – statement that no one is good somehow acted as a catalyst to awaken me from my slumber:

It made me realise I was a sinner.

Of course this didn’t happen overnight, and I did mull over it for quite a while. I hadn’t thought I was perfect, but I couldn’t have been that bad. Then I realised what the more untenable position was: That one could be without sin.

Believing that I was good enough, and without belief in the promise of the Resurrection, I had really arrogated to myself sanction to do as I pleased. You only live once, I thought, and so what a waste it would be to glorify God instead of being freed from the absurdity of religion. I had witnessed true devotion, but to me it seemed to be in vain that they kept their hearts clean and washed their hands in innocence.

Yet from this Copernican Revolution of sorts, the absurdity and delusion of my friend’s position overturned my “enlightened” worldview; I turned out to be the absurd and deluded one.

No one is good. Those were indeed the words of our Saviour. But that alone would be incomplete, for he followed that with but God alone.

If I am not a good person – or rather: If I am with sin, how might I be saved? No longer some absurd delusion, my heart was stirred to explore this source of goodness, the Good itself. This would soon lead me to the Good News, and our Lord’s Resurrection.

Confronting my error

And so, it took this work of God for me to confront the depths of my error. I saw that I was in fact creating my own truth by picking and choosing what I liked and disliked about God. I surely cannot be said to be coming to truth itself. Compelled to see who Jesus Christ really said he was, I turned to Scripture and there I found my answer: “Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was, I am.”

In that moment, Jesus himself spoke to me. He was not merely an enlightened teacher with a few teachings that are relevant to our times, nor was he simply a prophet of God whose words we try to superimpose onto our worldview. He simply is. The same God who spoke to Moses at the burning bush now spoke to me in the same way. The same God who was in the beginning. Who else could have saved me from my error, and showed me the truth? For indeed he is Truth itself, he who is.

This is the true Jesus Christ, who said he rose again in the flesh, and who has overcome the world. As it turned out, I really was the one that had believed in delusions. These fantasies by which I, in deciding on what is good by my standards, usurped the proper place of the Creator. By an act of God, I was made to confront the truth of the Resurrection.

The RCIA journey; the mercy of God

I continued to pursue this truth where it led, and feeling a real desire to be baptised into the Catholic Church, I began my RCIA journey. Even though I sometimes found the process unnecessarily drawn-out, I gradually came to appreciate the intentional symbolism behind the process that would culminate at Easter. Of course, not without the help of my sponsor and godparent, Mr Nick Chui throughout.

The Liturgical Calendar would play an important role in determining the direction of my life, especially spiritually: During Ordinary Time, as focus was placed on the public life and ministry of Jesus Christ, my trust in God grew steadily. I pondered over the prophecies about the coming of our Lord in the flesh, and reflected on his Second Coming during Advent, and contemplated the mystery of the Incarnation during Christmastide. During Lent, I do penance and prepare for Good Friday and the festivities of Easter, along with my own baptism. As the faith became a part of my daily life, what was once simply propositional, having to do with statements and logic, has become something profoundly real to me.

As Easter approaches, I am confronted with the great mercy that God has shown me as I contemplate the Resurrection. Not simply as we affirm in the Creed, or read in Scripture, but in the true realisation of God’s immeasurable love for us:

That he gave his only Son, so that we may have eternal life. That, through our baptism, we may be united with Christ, such that we may be united with him in a resurrection like his. The fact that Christ truly rose from the dead, without which our faith is futile. I look back on the views I held before, as I reflect on the words of the Psalmist:

 

Truly you set them in slippery places;

you make them fall to ruin.

How they are destroyed in a moment,

swept away utterly by terrors.

They are like a dream when one awakes,

on awaking you despise their phantoms.

 

This is the Psalmist’s perceived end of those who set their mouths against the heavens. They perish like a fleeting dream, temporal and impermanent, for God puts an end to those who are false to him. I am filled with immense gratitude for the gift of faith, as I now recall the extent of my error.

My flesh and heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

How else can God be our portion forever, except if we may enjoy a resurrection like his? How else can we make him our refuge, if not in hope of our resurrection, when we see his face? I pray that I do not envy the prosperity of the wicked, but that I be near to God.

For me, the mystery of the Resurrection, and indeed the entire Paschal mystery, is no longer something that is ‘too good to be true,’ nor is it mere delusion to keep society functioning. In fact, the world appears to function at its best when the Gospel is rejected, and we give ourselves sanction to do as we please. To me, the Resurrection is historical truth, and a mercy that God has shown to me, a sinner. I thank God for my faith, for rescuing me from error, and for his death and resurrection. Amen

In school, major and difficult decisions often come down to the answer to this question:
“What if this were your child?” Multiple opinions are offered in response, and I am struck
by how everyone makes a concerted effort to consider the “best interest” of the child.
Yet I often wonder about the way this question is naturally exclusive; it implies that
wearing the parent hat leads to the best decisions for the child, that the educator’s hat
is not as good. Even worse when teachers make the conciliatory disclaimer of
“I am not a parent, so…”, as if implying that the opinion and decision may not be as
thoughtful, or well-intentioned.

What if this is not about good, better and best, but that we have different ideas of what
“best” means? What if we accepted that we all want the absolute best for young people,
and this necessitates a common vision and mission?I think this starts with understanding that children are not ours to influence at will,
nor are they even ours to begin with; they are God’s children. Shaped by learned
experience of how one can survive and succeed in a specific context or society,
adults recite tips, adages and cautionary tales to steer young people in the direction
we deem necessary, safe, best.

Affected by personal circumstances, relationships, wounds, we transfer our own
worldview and impressions to the young. What a huge undertaking it is to have young
people in our care; but also, what an enormous privilege it is to be called to this ministry
(in more ways than one) of educating, and be able to share who and what we are with
the young people we encounter.

Most importantly, we are called to share who God is with our young people, how He
sees and loves His children, and how they can make the world a little more like the
one Christ came to build.

Catholic schools are special. While curriculum – apart from Religious Education –
is secular, the school culture is imbued with a Catholic ethos. And what does that
look like?

It means respecting every child’s dignity by accepting their uniqueness as a human
being who is a work in progress; forming them as a whole human person by showing
them how to serve and not just to achieve, and how to flourish and not just to survive.
It means encouraging them to pursue, and honour, their God-given gifts and talents
even if these are not money-making endeavours.

And it is honestly not enough for schools and parents to believe and practice this
separately. When we echo the same sentiments – not what we each desire as a separate
entity, but what God desires – the whole village educates the child together, united in
vision and mission.

Almost a decade ago, students from my Secondary Four Literature class gave me two
onions for my Teacher’s Day gift. They were referencing the poem Valentine by
Carol Ann Duffy that we had analysed in class together, in which the speaker presents
an onion to her partner as a Valentine’s Day gift.

We had discussed the complexity, ugliness and pain of authentic, raw love,
juxtaposed against the romantic, materialistic, showy love that society has conditioned
us to desire. We talked about the examples of ‘onion love’ we know in real life;
friendship and its patient steadiness as well as marriage and its commitment through
perseverance came up, as did sacrifice and unconditional love through Christ’s
crucifixion.

Handwritten notes aside, I have never treasured a Teacher’s Day gift more, and only
wish I could have preserved the two vegetables; I was so heartened by how sensible
my students were, and hopeful that they will continue to be exposed to, and practise,
love that is life-giving.

(Two onions, from Teacher’s Day in 2017)

Life-giving love is exceptionally challenging when the pace of life is fast, vulnerability
is contained, and efficiency goals put human-centricity on the back burner. But if our
agendas were more God-centred, and focused on what we know is timeless and
enduring, imagine the ways our young people would flourish!

During one of my recent (and frequent) angst-ridden rants about people’s
overreliance on Artificial Intelligence and its ‘productivity-enhancing’ benefits,
someone suggested that I “quietly throw sand in the gears” and never have I ever felt
more inspired to start a revolution, the kind where I say things like:

Stop for a moment. How does God see this world and His creation?
What ought we to do in this situation?
Shall we consider at what cost and to whose detriment this is?
Who did God make you to be?
What can you do for God and His people?

And I wonder what would happen if we all came together to do the same. Boldly.

 

“I am the true vine, and my Father is the vine-grower. He removes every branch in me that bears no fruit. Every branch that bears fruit he prunes to make it bear more fruit… Abide in me as I
abide in you. Just as the branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can
you unless you abide in me. I am the vine, you are the branches. Those who abide in me and I in them
bear much fruit, because apart from me you can do nothing… If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask for whatever you wish, and it will be done for you. My Father is glorified by this, that you bear much fruit and become my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love…
You did not choose me but I chose you. And I appointed you to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last.”
(John 15:1–9, 16)

This March 2026 we find ourselves in last few days of the Lunar New Year, and almost two
weeks into the season of Lent.

In the preceding editions of Sowers, we have been highlighting the urgency of being on
mission in our Catholic schools – anchored on the 5 Essential Marks of Catholic Schools1
in Communion with God, his Church, and with each other.

Essential Mark 3 – Animated by Communion and Community – is very much aligned to the
Singapore Roman Catholic Archdiocesan vision of a vibrant, evangelising and missionary
Church, built upon the theme Communion in Mission.

As Archbishop Michael Miller, author of The Holy See’s Teaching on Catholic Schools (in
which the 5 Essential Marks are outlined) aptly puts it, “This communal dimension is rooted
both in the social nature of the human person and in the reality of the Church as the home
and school of communion.”


One in Christ, United in Mission

The Holy Spirit seems to be leading the Church in the direction of unity in community for
mission: on 25 January 2026 Pope Leo XIV released his message for the 100th World
Mission Sunday which falls on 18 October this year.

A true missionary himself, his opening words were:

“I have chosen the theme One in Christ, united in mission. Following the Jubilee
Year, I wish to encourage the whole Church to continue its missionary journey with joy and
zeal in the Holy Spirit. This requires hearts united in Christ, reconciled communities and, in
everyone, a willingness to cooperate with generosity and trust.”

It is fitting, in this holy season of Lent when all Catholics are invited to pray, repent and
be more charitable, that we examine how we can be more united in Christ, and more
reconciled to and more generous with one another, for the purpose of our mission as
Catholic educators in our diocese.

1. Abiding in Christ the True Vine

Elaborating on his chosen World Mission Sunday theme, Pope Leo continued:

“The mystery of union with Christ lies at the heart of mission…. Being a Christian is not
primarily about practices or ideas; it is a life in union with Christ, in which we share in his
filial relationship with the Father in the Holy Spirit. It means abiding in Christ, like branches
on the vine (John 15:4), immersed in the life of the Trinity. This union gives rise to mutual
communion among believers and is the source of all missionary fruitfulness.”

How do we grow in communion with Christ and each other? Let us consider in more detail
the parable of the vine and the branches.

Our parishes and our school communities are like vineyards, and each of us a vine, with our
own ordered place in the disorderliness of the world.

Though we may often forget it, Christ the true vine is always abiding with us, his branches.
In fact, he is the trunk from which draw the graces sustaining our spiritual lives, rooting
us solidly in the fertile soil of the Word of God, and filling us with the water of the Holy
Spirit.

All we are asked to do is simply be, right where we are, at his side, reaching out towards
the light of the Son above, allowing ourselves to undergo the natural spiritual photosynthesis
by which we grow and mature enough to bear fruit for the Kingdom.

The true vine does not abide in us only if we cut ourselves off from him. And as we know
from nature, any branch that is not connected to the main plant withers and dies.

2. Abiding in Communion with Fellow Vines

No man is an island. We were created in the image and likeness of the Trinitarian God, to
live in community, cooperating and collaborating with one another in the communion of
love of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Vines, by nature, cling to any means of support they can to reach the sun. Thus, vine-growers
train their vines on a network of trellises designed to maximise the productivity and long-term
health of the vines, and to make sure they do not become entangled with each other.

In the same way, we too have been gifted with the perfect support system for our spiritual
vines by the divine vine-grower. He has given us the Church, the Word of God and the
Sacraments in and through which we can flourish and grow as communities of faith.

We are assured of Christ’s intercession for us. Pope Leo wrote in his Mission Sunday message:

“Before his Passion, Jesus prayed to the Father, ‘that they may all be one. As you, Father,
are in me and I am in you, may they also be in us’ (John 17:21). These words reveal Jesus’
deepest desire, as well as the identity of the Church as a community of his disciples. That is,
a communion that flows from the Trinity, and continues to be sustained by the Trinity; a
communion at the service of fraternity among all human beings and harmony with all creation.”

If we find a lack of support from our ‘trellis’, it may be because the ‘vines’ – including ourselves –
are not at “the service of fraternity” with each other, jostling for space and exposure to the Light
to the detriment of others.

Thus, Pope Leo emphasized:

“In this context, the Church’s primary missionary responsibility is to renew and sustain
spiritual and fraternal unity among its members. In many situations, we encounter conflicts,
polarization, misunderstandings and a lack of mutual trust. When this occurs even within our
communities, it undermines our witness. The evangelizing mission that Christ entrusted to his
disciples requires, above all, hearts that are reconciled and eager for communion.”

3. Love, the Heart of Communion

If the heart of mission is communion, then the heart of communion is love.

“As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love. If you keep my commandments,
you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father’s commandments and abide in his love.”
(John 15:9–10)

We all know this is easier said than done – we probably find it more agreeable to love God than
to love our neighbours as God has loved them. How can we bring ourselves to actively love the
persons whom the Lord sends to be the thorns in our flesh and the splinters in our eyes?

Perhaps we could start small. St Teresa of Calcutta said, “We cannot all do great things,
but we can do small things with great love.”

Quoting St John Paul II in his Mission Sunday message, Pope Leo wrote: “Communion represents
both the source and the fruit of mission.”

Before vines bear fruit, they flower. The inflorescences of grapevines are tiny and totally
unremarkable in appearance, yet from these humble beginnings are formed the luscious fruit that we so enjoy – if the vines remain healthy i.e. grafted to the master vine.

This Lent, perhaps we could start in small ways, not only to abide in Christ through prayer,
but also to start doing little acts of love.

In his 2026 Lenten Message, Pope Leo invites us to:

  • Be more prepared to listen to others:
    “The willingness to listen is the first way we demonstrate our desire to enter into relationship
    with someone. In revealing himself to Moses in the burning bush, God himself teaches us that
    listening is one of his defining characteristics: ‘I have observed the misery of my people who are
    in Egypt; I have heard their cry’ (Exodus 3:7).”
  • Fast from hurtful words:
    “Let us begin by disarming our language, avoiding harsh words and rash judgement, refraining
    from slander and speaking ill of those who are not present and cannot defend themselves. Instead,
    let us strive to measure our words and cultivate kindness and respect in our families, among our
    friends, at work, on social media, in political debates, in the media and in Christian communities.”
  • Strive to do the above together:
    “Lent emphasizes the communal aspect of listening to the word and fasting… For example, the Book
    of Nehemiah recounts how the people gathered to listen to the public reading of the Law, preparing
    to profess their faith and worship through fasting, so as to renew the covenant with God (cf. 9:1-3).
    Likewise, our parishes, families, ecclesial groups and religious communities are called to undertake
    a shared journey during Lent.” So are our Catholic schools. For example, this Lent, ACCS is
    collaborating with Assumption English School and St Joseph’s Institution to organise a Lenten
    Programme for upper primary students of St Anthony’s Primary and De La Salle School on 10 March.

If we strive to start small, even with faith as tiny as a mustard seed, growth is still possible. Like the
first buds of the grapevine, such beginnings can one day bear fruit — good fruit. Through this fruit,
those around us, especially our non-Catholic students, may savour its goodness and come to “taste
and see that the Lord is good” (Psalm 34:8). These fruits can endure, for the seeds of faith they
contain may take root, grow, and become new vines themselves when sown in fertile soil.

And if we have already been bearing fruit, no matter how small our vine or feeble our yield seems to
us, our heavenly Father the vine-grower continues to gently prune us as friends and disciples – not
as servants – so that our harvest will be ever more bountiful for the glory of his name.

So, this Lent, let us always remember that, apart from the Lord, we can do nothing, but with him,
anything and everything is possible.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons.

 

Not long ago, on November 7, 2025, ACCS held its inaugural Catholic Education Summit (CES),

gathering together representatives from all segments of a Catholic school – students, educators,
school leaders and Board members – to reflect on the theme “On Your Marks!” referring to the
Five Marks of a Catholic School advocated by the Holy See.

One of these Five Marks calls on educators in Catholic schools to present the Catholic worldview.
A hallmark of Catholic education is the cultivation of a Catholic worldview, where faith is woven
into academic subjects to help students discover their identity and recognise God’s presence and
action in their lives.

Parker Palmer, renowned author of “The Courage To Teach”, says “To educate is to guide students
on an inner journey toward more truthful ways of seeing and being in the world.”

During the Commencement of School Year (COSY) Mass on January 25, 2026, Cardinal William
Goh exhorted all educators to form their students in the Gospel values of “truth, charity, love,
generosity and forgiveness”.

These exhortations clearly call for educators to courageously form their students in truth and love.
They also beg the question if this formation can be done simply by educating but not judging.

A Reflection by Educator Ann Ang

“Do not judge others, and God will not judge you; do not condemn others and God will not
condemn you.” Luke 6:37

How can one be an educator and not judge? After all, assessment is important to learning, and
we’re told that everything is assessment: pre-, post- and during the process. Yet, Luke 6:37
contains the famous line: “Do not judge others, and God will not judge you; do not condemn
others and God will not condemn you.” Often this is popularly interpreted to mean we should not
judge others at all, for fear that our wrongdoings will similarly be called into account. But
shouldn’t they? That’s what assessment for learning is. Some believe that compassion means not
judging at all. But this withholding of judgement sometimes looks more like a refusal to get
involved, or a fear of taking a stand on what is right or wrong. In a world of great diversity, isn’t it
better to let others be, if they are not doing any harm to you?

However, looking closely at what Jesus says, it is God who will judge us. Where there is no
judgement at all, and no willingness to judge, what comes to pass is moral relativism, where every
action is subjectively right or wrong, and right and wrong lose their distinct meanings. God, of
course, is the perfect judge, but what about us? In what sense can we be said to be judging, with
compassion? Again, popular perspectives on this are not especially helpful, because they ask us
to exercise empathy and stand in someone else’s shoes, or to hate the sin but not the sinner. They
do not explain what our response should be to the injustice or unjustness of the action. So, judge
we must, because a sense of right and wrong remains important.

Yet, some will still protest: it is a sin to judge others. Again, this puts us back in the dubious
position of not taking a stand at all. Impossible, in our line of work. To be more precise, it is unjust,
rash judgement that is a sin, when we insist on assessing someone and their actions in a way that
is false, distorted or excessive. Others have provided the perspective that rash judgement of
others is a reflection of a lack of honesty towards our own faults. Hence the verses that follow in
Luke 6:41: “why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but pay no attention to the log in
your own eyes?” In other words, if we indulge in fault-finding and persecuting others, we are
probably out of balance with ourselves in our inner lives. Judging others with mercy means
exercising discernment and wisdom in the love of God that extends to others. Living in
communion with God implies living in community with others, even as compassionate judgement
means consistently inviting others and ourselves into working for goodness together. These are
huge, abstract words, but for educators, I think we know and feel right, when we judge justly. It
happens when what we say and do, whether as encouragement or chastisement, helps the
learner to learn.

Word of God

“Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light to my path” (Psalm 119:105)

Coincidentally, Sunday January 25, 2026, on which the COSY Mass was celebrated, was
also the Sunday of the Word of God. It is pertinent to ask if our assessments and judgements are
based on a Catholic worldview, informed by the Word of God?

If the Word of God does not shine a light to guide our path, how do we educators “guide
students on an inner journey toward more truthful ways of seeing and being in the world”? How
do we provide a Catholic schooling inspired and guided by the Word of God? How does the spirit
of Catholicism permeate the entire curriculum in a Catholic school?

 

“Go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father and of

the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded
you. And surely, I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

(Matthew 28:19–20)

We find ourselves so quickly in the liturgical season of Ordinary Time. Both Christmastide
and the Jubilee Year of Hope are over, but Christ’s Great Commission to proclaim the
Good News that the Lord of Light, Hope and Love has come to dwell among us – to save
us and set us free – never ends.

For this Mission, we have been placed as Catholic educators in Catholic schools, and we
are called to play our part in fulfilling the Archdiocese’s vision of a vibrant, evangelising
and missionary Church in Singapore, built with Communion in Mission.

The call of the first disciples. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

But why and how should we GO on this Mission?

Why? We Are the Church and the Church Exists for Mission

In Advent 2025, the Church marked the 50th anniversary of what Pope Francis declared
to be one of the greatest pastoral documents ever written – Pope St Paul VI’s Apostolic
Exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi (Proclaiming the Gospel), promulgated on
8 December 1975.

However, this milestone probably passed by largely unnoticed by the majority of Church-goers here.

In this document, addressed to “all the faithful of the entire world”, the Pope offered
“a loyal, humble and courageous answer” to why we should GO on Mission.

  • “The Church exists in order to evangelize – to preach and teach, to be the channel
    of the gift of grace, to reconcile sinners with God, and to perpetuate Christ’s sacrifice
    in the Mass, which is the memorial of His death and glorious resurrection” (EN 14).
  • The Church’s mission is the mission of Christ. “As an evangeliser, Christ first of all
    proclaims a kingdom, the kingdom of God” (EN 8), and secondly, “salvation, this
    great gift of God which is liberation from everything that oppresses man, but which is
    above all, liberation from sin and the Evil One, in the joy of knowing God and being
    known by Him, of seeing Him, and of being given over to Him” (EN 9).
  • As members of the Church, our mission is to proclaim the kerygma, that “in Jesus
    Christ, the Son of God made man, who died and rose from the dead, salvation is offered
    to all men, as a gift of God’s grace and mercy” – a salvation fulfilled in “a communion
    with the one and only divine Absolute”, a salvation which “has its beginning in this life
    but which is fulfilled in eternity” (EN 27).

The How? Remembering That Faith Is Caught, Not Taught

“Modern man listens more willingly to witnesses than to teachers, and if he does listen
to teachers, it is because they are witnesses.” (EN 41)

As one wise Catholic educator put it, “To be effective in our teaching ministry, we must
love two things: our students and the Truth” – i.e. Christ who is the Way, the Truth and
the Life.

Pope Paul VI wrote:

  • “The first means of evangelisation is the witness of an authentically Christian life”
    (EN 41), such that Christians “stir up irresistible questions in the hearts of those who
    see how they live: Why are they like this? Why do they live in this way? What or who
    is it that inspires them? Why are they in our midst?” (EN 21).

Do we “talk the talk” and “walk the walk”? Do we profess our faith in Christ and the
teachings of the Church with both words and deeds? Do we exercise the ministry of
presence with our students, making time to be present and available to them, listening
to them with our hearts?

Christ on the road to Emmaus. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

  • A second means of evangelisation is preaching. “The verbal proclamation of a
    message is indeed always indispensable.” Mass homilies are “an important and very
    adaptable instrument of evangelisation” (EN 42) and should be “simple, clear, direct,
    well-adapted, profoundly dependent on Gospel teaching and faithful to the magisterium,
    animated by a balanced apostolic ardour… full of hope, fostering belief, and productive
    of peace and unity” (EN 43).

When we organise Masses in school, do we give guidance to the priests we invite? When
we hold prayer services or workshops, do we offer similar guidance?

  • A third means is catechetical instruction. “The methods must be adapted to the age,
    culture and aptitude of the persons concerned” (EN 44).
  • Fourth, mass media and social communication: “When they are put at the service of
    the Gospel, they are capable of increasing almost infinitely the area in which the Word
    of God is heard” (EN 45).
  • Fifth, person-to-person transmission of faith: “The pressing need to proclaim the Good
    News to the multitudes should not cause us to forget this form of proclamation” (EN 46).

Christ and Zacchaeus. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

Evangelii Nuntiandi and the Singapore Context Today

Fifty years on, Pope Paul VI’s counsel remains as relevant as ever because the need to be
on Mission is more urgent than before in our Archdiocese.

On 25 January 2025, Cardinal William Goh commissioned new Catholic school leaders at
the COSY Mass organised by ACCS.

He reminded educators that we must be imbued with God’s Word and united in belief
and practice, ensuring Gospel values permeate everything we do.

Christ the Word of God. Photo: Wikimedia Commons

As St Jerome wrote, “Ignorance of Scripture is ignorance of Christ.”

Candlemas and the World Day of Prayer for Consecrated Life

On 2 February, the Church celebrates the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, also
known as Candlemas.

It is also the World Day of Prayer for Consecrated Life. We remember the religious
whose commitment to Mission has shaped our Catholic schools.

“In every age there have been men and women who… have chosen this special way of
following Christ… helping to make the mystery and mission of the Church shine forth.”

May we emulate these role models, leave behind our fears and doubts, and follow the
Word of God in Communion and Mission, forming educational constellations that guide
our young people with love, hope and joy.

“Seeing the sun, the moon, and the stars, I said to myself, who could be the Master of these beautiful things? And I felt a great desire to see him, to know him, and to pay him homage.”

(St Josephine Bakhita)

Yes, we are still in the Octave of Christmas, the celebration of the arrival of Emmanuel—who is, who was and who will be—God-with-us forever. And in a few days, the Church will be celebrating the Solemnity of the Epiphany—the revelation of Christ to the world—as symbolised by the Magi who sought, and then found, Him by following the Star of Bethlehem.

The Gospel of that day tells:

“Falling to their knees, they did him homage. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. But they were warned in a dream not to go back to Herod, and returned to their own country by a different way.”

(Matthew 2:11–12)

Having personally encountered the Lord, they went home by a new route, filled with new hope, drawing—for all whom they witnessed to along the way—a new map of hope to lead them, in hope, to Hope Incarnate.

Stars of Bethlehem

Maps and navigational aids like compasses did not exist in the time of Christ. Ancient mariners and travellers relied heavily on landmarks, memories of roads traversed, familiar coastlines, and the sun and the stars for navigation. Inclement weather made travel very hazardous, especially at sea.

When the Magi returned from Bethlehem to their respective countries by a different route, they had to navigate by observing differing positions of the sun and stars through unfamiliar terrain. Doubtless it took all their wisdom and ingenuity to make it back safely. But it is unlikely they undertook such a challenging journey alone.

As Catholic educators, to whom Christ has been revealed in as diverse ways as there are Christians, we too are not alone in our educational challenges. Our help comes from unexpected allies, as Pope Leo XIV revealed during the Jubilee of the World of Education in the 2025 Year of Hope.

At a private audience in Rome, he told the students in attendance that they were “not just recipients of education, but its protagonists.”

He called on them “to join forces to open a new season of education, in which all of us—young people and adults—become credible witnesses of truth and peace.”

He said:

“Each of you is a star, and together you are called to guide the future.”

Stars, Like Saints

Stars are made of clouds of dust and gas.

Man was created from the dust of the earth.

When gravity pulls gas and dust clouds closer together, and its mass, pressure and temperature rise enough to trigger nuclear fusion in its core, the intense energy released generates heat and light, and a star is born. When the power of the Holy Spirit works within us, our zeal for God and His gifts are fanned into a flame and a disciple is born—bringing the Word of Life and Light of Christ to the world, just as the light of the sun brings life on earth.

Stars come in different sizes, colours, temperatures and levels of brightness—the biggest and hottest stars are blue and blaze bright, while the coolest and smallest stars are red and dim. We too are of different sizes, colours and builds, with different gifts and charisms, and different levels of spirituality.

Stars burn for billions of years before their internal fuel runs out, and they die. We were created to shine for all eternity.

But, as St Anthony of Padua wrote:

“The saints are like the stars. In his providence, Christ conceals them in a hidden place that they may not shine before others when they might wish to do so.”

And, as Pope Leo warns:

“Without silence, without listening, without prayer, even the light of the stars goes out…”

If we do not have a deep relationship with the Holy Spirit—the engine of spiritual growth—without whom we are unable to call out “Abba, Father!” or proclaim “Jesus is Lord!”, our stars may burn bright, but briefly.

Catholic Schools, Like Constellations

In the universe, stars are seldom solitary (although they appear to be so because of their vast distances from earth)—they naturally gravitate into star clusters, nebulae or galaxies.

Pope Leo observed:

“A single star on its own remains just a point of light. But when it joins with others, it forms a constellation, like the Southern Cross.”

On the cusp of the Epiphany of the Lord, as Catholic educators in Catholic schools, let us meditate on the Pope’s words that followed:

“When many lives, like stars, come together and form a pattern, we form educational constellations that guide the path forward.

Do you know how many stars there are in the observable universe? An impressive and wonderful number: a sextillion stars—that is, a 1 followed by 21 zeros! If we divided them among the 8 billion people on Earth, each person would have hundreds of billions of stars.

With the naked eye, on clear nights, we can see about five thousand. Even though there are billions upon billions of stars, we only see the closest constellations; yet these are enough to point us in a direction, as when navigating the sea.

Travellers have always found their way by the stars. Sailors followed the North Star; Polynesians crossed the ocean by memorising star maps. Even the Magi followed a star to reach Bethlehem and worship the Baby Jesus.

Like them, you too have guiding stars: parents, teachers, priests and good friends, who are like compasses that help you not to lose your way amid the ups and downs of life. Like them, you are called to become shining witnesses for those around you.

Education brings people together into lively communities and organises ideas into constellations of meaning. As the prophet Daniel writes, ‘Those who lead many to righteousness shall shine like the stars forever’ (Dan 12:3).

How wonderful! We are stars indeed, because we are sparks of God. To educate means to cultivate this gift.

Education, in fact, teaches us to look upward, always higher. When Galileo Galilei pointed his telescope at the sky, he discovered new worlds: the moons of Jupiter, the mountains of the Moon. Education is like a telescope that allows you to look beyond and discover what you would not see on your own…”

A New Year Resolution

We spent 2025 building up spiritual muscle and preparing ourselves to be ON OUR MARKS—the 5 Essential Marks of Catholic Schools.

During Advent, we were preparing to GET SET in heart and mind to launch ourselves not only towards Christ’s First Coming at Christmas, but also for His Second Coming at the end of time, when all Creation as we know it will be made new.

In this New Year ahead, let us GO to be guiding lights leading others to an encounter with Christ, and then giving them a new map of hope to show them a new way home.

In the words of St Paul, let us GO to:

“Shine out like bright stars in the world, proffering to it the Word of life.

Then [we] shall have reason to be proud on the Day of Christ, for it will not be for nothing that [we] have run the race and toiled so hard.”

(Philippians 2:15–16)

Emmanuel, Morning Star and Prince of Peace, have mercy on us!

Mary, Mother of God and Star of the Sea, pray for us!

Mary responded, “I am the Lord’s servant. May everything you have said about me come true.”

(Luke 1:38)

Fiat is a Latin word which means “let it be done”. When the Angel announced that Mary had been chosen to bear the Son of God, there was a moment of hesitancy when she asked how it was possible. However, when the Angel told her the Holy Spirit would come over her and she would be a mother, she trusted wholeheartedly and joyfully accepted her call. In her Magnificat, Mary praised God for His mercy and love. She trusted in the providence and protection of God.

We certainly are nowhere near the holiness of Mary, yet we are called every day in our vocations as teachers.

We may think that our timetables and the classes we will teach this year have been planned by our HODs and school leaders. Do we trust that God had a hand in it—that we are where we are by the grace of God and not by chance? God knows us inside out. He knows our desires, our strengths and our weaknesses. He calls us to embrace the classes and responsibilities we have been given: the ones with the smartest children and the unmotivated children, the ones with the cooperative parents and the demanding parents. He calls us to seek the Jesus in each child and parent in our class.

At the beginning of the year, we may accept this challenge and truly seek to love our charges and fulfil our responsibilities with joy, but being human, we will find ourselves tiring and losing steam after some time. How can Mary’s fiat inspire us to respond to God’s call?

Mary praised God. We should too. We should make time for God in our daily routines—perhaps simply by making it a habit to praise and thank God when we wake up in the morning, or making a conscious effort to say grace before meals or a snack. In doing so, we acknowledge God’s presence in every moment of our day. We could also make some lifestyle changes to attend a couple of weekday Masses, which, as we know, is the highest form of praise and worship.

Mary pondered on God’s goodness; she did not overreact when she encountered moments of difficulty or challenges. We could remind ourselves of God’s mercy and love by placing a crucifix, a small statue, or a holy picture at our tables. When we come back from a challenging class, we have a physical reminder of God’s love for us. If we have had a fun and fulfilling lesson, we thank God for the experience. If a crucifix or symbol is not appropriate in secular schools, we can slip the Bible among our resources. The Word of God is a powerful tool and can speak to us in moments of need.

Mary was filled with joy. We should seek this heavenly joy, not just earthly happiness. Happiness may be a pile of marked assignments, a list of passes after a test, or a day when every child hands in his or her homework. Joy comes from God; joy is not something we can attain on our own. Joy is recognising that God is working in us and fulfilling the plans that He has for us.

God tells us in Jeremiah 29:11, “I know the plans I have for you …”

In moments of difficulty and despair, we can become disconnected from God, not because He has left us, but because we are filled with anger or anxiety. We need to remain alert to God’s work in our lives.

So, at the beginning of this school year, do we let go and let God? Can we be servants and allow what God has planned to be fulfilled in our lives?

May you be inspired by Mary’s fiat and move courageously and joyfully through this school year.