“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.

Photo: Wikimedia Commons.

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

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

“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.

“I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth.” (1 Cor 3:6)

“Thank you, Mr Chui, the consultations were useful!”

I have been in the business for more than a decade.

The students hope to get a good grade for History so that they can graduate well. I am reasonably confident as their teacher that it can happen. And it does.

I am grateful to the Lord that, at least for the subject I teach, I am a sturdy enough bridge. With my help, the students are often able to get their desired grade to set them on the next stage in post-secondary education.

Nevertheless, the trouble with being a bridge is that your “usefulness” is for a time. You cease to matter once the commuter finishes his journey.

I have come to accept this as part of the experience of an educator.

But I do ask if I can be something more.

Does the impact I make go beyond grades?

I got the answer this year on 30 June 2025.

It was from Brandon, who graduated in 2021. I had taught him History. He was not a Christian but attended Religious Moral Education lessons which I also taught.

He would sit quietly, and in deep thought during those lessons.

His WhatsApp message came as an unexpected delight for me.

“Hello, Mr Chui! Hope you remember me. I’ve been having some questions about Catholicism and would like to explore the faith further. Can we meet?”

I paused, filled with a deep sense of gratitude.

“Yes, I remember you! Let’s meet!”

And we did. And we spoke about his journey towards accepting Christ.

“What was your story, Brandon?”

“I had always wanted to experience what it means to love unconditionally. For a long time, I felt that my non-Christian friends are more sincere. At least they cared for me because of me. My Christian friends are probably caring for me to please God.”

“What was your turning point?” I asked.

“The turning point came when one of them explained to me that good works alone cannot make a Christian righteous; it is by God’s grace that we are justified.” (Eph 2:8–9)

My paradigm shifted. The good deeds I witnessed from my Christian friends were not done to make themselves righteous in God’s eyes, but rather were the result of their faith and regeneration in Jesus Christ. (2 Cor 5:17)

“I began to be intrigued by this Jesus and asked seriously if this story is true,” Brandon continued.

Brandon expressed his desire to explore becoming Catholic. He shared that he felt the fullness of Christianity might be found in Catholicism. I shared that I would be happy to be his guide.

As if the Lord wanted to confirm His initial answer, it happened again the following week.

It was homecoming on 9 July 2025, when Catholic High School was celebrating the 90th anniversary of her founding, with a food and funfair.

I got another cheery greeting from an ex-student.

“Hello, Mr Chui!”

I turned around and saw a face that I had not seen for some time. This time, it was Bo Yu.

I had taught him when he was in Secondary 3. Wasn’t he still in Louisiana?

“Oh Mr Chui, I have graduated and am back because I need to serve National Service. And by the way, I am hoping to become a Christian and am wondering if we could chat about this.”

I listened, in awe and gratitude, as Bo Yu shared his journey of how he came to accept Christ.

“Let’s meet again soon!” I added.

And so, we did. And when we met, we talked—about the nature of truth and love, purpose, relationships, and the person of Jesus Christ.

I was filled with gratitude.

Currently serving his Basic Military Training, Bo Yu shared that with Christ, even basic things fill him with gratitude.

“I am grateful for having healthy legs to feel pain, arms to feel weak.”

Both Bo Yu and Brandon are now attending the Rites of Christian Initiation of Adults (RCIA) at the Church of Saint Vincent de Paul. And I am their RCIA Sponsor.

I am no longer just a bridge, but with God’s grace, also a compass—helping ex-students navigate important decisions in their life.

On Fridays, we try to attend Mass at the Church of Saint Joseph, followed by an hour of Eucharistic adoration and subsequent fellowship with other Catholics.

One of those Fridays, Fr Joe Lopez—chaplain of Catholic High and rector of St Joseph’s Church—was the celebrant at Mass.

After Mass, we went up to him. He was beaming with pride.

I have known Fr Joe since I was an undergraduate, and his example has been a compass for me.

Fr Joe is a missionary who left his native country over 20 years ago to serve in a foreign land, to share the love of Christ with ordinary people like me. Today, I am a Catholic educator who shares my mission to help young men discern their own calling in life.

And with the Lord’s grace, we see the first fruits of the work the Lord has started.

I thank Brandon and Bo Yu for trusting the Lord. May He guide their steps as they seek Him every day.

In closing, I would like to offer this prayer from Saint John Henry Newman, whom Pope Leo XIV declared a Doctor of the Church on 1 November 2025, and co-patron of Catholic Education with Saint Thomas Aquinas.

Saint John Henry Newman wrote profoundly about the purpose of education, especially in his book The Idea of a University. For Newman, the purpose of education is to lead us to the truth of the world, the truth of God, and clarity about one’s mission in life.

I offer this prayer for all Catholic educators, that they may also be both sturdy bridges and sure compasses for those whom they teach.

“God has created me to do Him some definite service. He has committed some work to me which He has not committed to another. I have my mission. I may never know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next. I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good; I shall do His work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep His commandments.

Therefore, I will trust Him. Whatever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve Him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve Him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve Him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what He is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide my future from me. Still, He knows what He is about.”

— Saint John Henry Newman

Photo: Nick Chui

We have just begun the first day of Advent, celebrating the end of another school year and ushering in the beginning of a new liturgical one.

Not long ago, on November 7, 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.

In his homily at the CES Mass, Fr Edward Seah said the theme reminded him of Sports Day in his schooldays where, before a race, the athletes waited for the commands “On your marks – get set – go!” to the excitement and anticipation of those watching from the stands. (In our local context, the command is rather “Ke garisan, sedia, [gunshot].”)

Fr Edward compared the runners’ single-mindedness and perseverance in reaching the finish line as fast as they could to Jesus’ journey from Galilee, setting his face steadfastly towards Jerusalem and Calvary. “He was very clear about his mission” not allowing anything to stand in his way, and “he lived out his mission” to the end. “What about us?” he asked.

On your Marks…

The order “On your marks”, in the plural, can be addressed to (i) all participating athletes who take the same ‘mark’ or starting line (as in contestants in a 100m race) or to (ii) individual athletes whose marks are different from their fellow competitors’ i.e. staggered (as in a 400m event).

Fr Edward’s question is timely for Advent. What exactly is our mission, our goal, collectively as a Catholic school community, and as individual educators?

As Catholics and people of God, we all run the same race, with the same starting line i.e. our baptism, by virtue of which we are all ‘enrolled’ in the same mission of Christ our King, and with his same goal.

St John Paul II said: “The ultimate goal of all Catholic education is salvation in Jesus Christ. Catholic educators effectively work for the coming of Christ’s Kingdom; this work includes transmitting clearly and in full the message of salvation, which elicits the response of faith.”¹ This is why “It is appropriate to speak of religious education as ‘the core of the core curriculum’… A principal goal of the Catholic school must be to hand on the faith.”² [italics his]

How we achieve this goal is through the Five Marks of a Catholic School i.e. our vision and mission is inspired by (i) God’s vision and mission; and hence (ii) how He sees each and every human person as created in His image and likeness with an inviolable and intrinsic human dignity; (iii) His desire for everyone to relate to one another in the loving communion of the Holy Trinity; (iv) seeing the world through His lens of mercy, delight and gratitude; and (v) our authentic joy of witnessing to the Gospel by testifying to God’s goodness in our lives.

But the extent to which we make our Five Marks on our students differs, depending on (i) the time we spend with them e.g. as flexi-adjuncts, form teachers or school leaders; (ii) the subjects we teach them e.g. religious education or more ‘secular’ subjects; (iii) our personalities and natural talents and skills, especially for active listening and dialogue; and (iv) our spirituality and depth of relationship with God.

In this sense then, our starting lines are staggered.

Get set…

After the athletes have taken their respective marks at their lines or starting blocks, the marshal cries, “Get set!”

This is the cue for athletes to assume their optimum physical position to launch themselves into their first crucial make-or-break-of-a-race steps, especially for sprinters. It is also the last chance to prepare mentally for what is about to come — the sound of the starting gun.

These precious seconds are an athlete’s last chance to dispel self-doubt and fear, and bring nerves under control — a momentary lapse can result in a false start, leading to disqualification for the athlete and even the team in a relay, and the loss of not only a race, but perhaps a championship.

“Get set!” is the time of active waiting and stilling oneself for the sound of the starting gun, the signal to “Go!”

“Get set!” reminds me of Advent. ‘Advent’ comes from the Latin adventus, meaning “a coming into place, view, or being; an arrival”. It is a time of glimpsing, and getting ready for, the coming of the Word made flesh to conquer hearts and souls for the Kingdom of God from whence He came.

Advent is a time to prepare to “Go!” on our shared mission with Christ to save souls. What should we do this Advent?

In their 2025–26 edition of the Office for New Evangelisation (ONE)’s Advent Reflection Booklet, Fr Terence Pereira, Episcopal Vicar for the New Evangelisation, gives us another secular metaphor to see Advent as a “get set” from our respective start lines for the “get go” of Christmas:

“If you notice, the prices of material things (food, clothing and housing) keep going up and up and never seem to come down. The rising cost of living is often driven by greed, the desire to have more. Our spiritual life should have the same trajectory (always rising) because this is asked of us when Jesus said, ‘Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect’ (Matt 5:48) The call to perfection is found in 1 Peter 1:16: ‘Be holy because I am holy’. … Our holiness, where we are at this stage of our lives, is the starting point.”³

This echoes St John Paul II’s call to Catholic educators: “Holiness is not the privilege of a few; it is a gift offered to all. The call to holiness is addressed also to you and to your students. To doubt this is to misjudge Christ’s intentions: for ‘each of us has received God’s favour in the measure in which Christ bestowed it.’ (Ephesians 4:7).”⁴ [italics his]

Advent is a time to work on our personal holiness.

‘Set’ in Christ

Behind every successful athlete is a great coach. Behind every good student is an inspiring teacher. Both prepare their charges, not merely for those all-too-short times during which they have to prove their mettle in a race or an examination, but also to build their character and fortitude for the arenas and classrooms of life.

But neither coaches nor teachers can effectively impart skills or knowledge they do not have in the first place. We cannot share Christ with others if we do not already have an existing relationship with Him. St John Paul II explains why this is so important for Catholic educators:

“Jesus shares with you his teaching ministry. Only in close communion with him can you respond adequately. This is my hope, this is my prayer: that you will be totally open to Christ, that He will give you an ever-greater love for your students and an ever-stronger commitment to your vocation as Catholic educators.” [italics his]

This makes Fr Terence’s exhortation very timely:

“During this time of Advent, we should remind ourselves: just as the prices are set to go up, my spiritual life is also set to go up. We should strive to be holier. We should strive to make that effort to journey to new, unknown places in our heart and spirit, places that will eventually bring us closer to the Lord.”

For, as St Paul wrote, the stakes are high:

“Do you not know that in a race the runners all compete, but only one receives the prize? Run in such a way that you may win it. Athletes exercise self-control in all things; they do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable one. So I do not run aimlessly, nor do I box as though beating the air; but I punish my body and enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself should not be disqualified.” (1 Corinthians 9:24–27)

Christ our coach

Traditionally, every Sunday of Advent, a candle is lit every week to symbolise the hope, peace, joy and love that Our Lord, the Light of the World, will bring when He comes at Christmas.

Perhaps this year, when we see the Advent candles being lit in our homes or in our churches, we could focus on the four “key elements” Pope Leo XIV outlined to educators on the Jubilee of the World of Education on Oct 31, 2025 which he considered “fundamental to Christian education” – interiority, unity, love and joy.⁵

• Interiority: The Pope explained, “It is a mistake to think that beautiful words or good classrooms, laboratories and libraries are enough to teach. These are only means and physical spaces, certainly useful, but the Teacher is within. Truth does not spread through sounds, walls and corridors, but in the profound encounter between people, without which any educational endeavour is doomed to fail… students need help to get in touch with their inner selves.” This presupposes that their teachers are in touch with their inner selves, and the Teacher who is Truth incarnate, within. Only if we know Him, can we share Him, and teach our students how to find Him within themselves.

• Unity: Leo’s Papal motto is In illo uno unum – “in the One, we are one.” To convince our students that Jesus is “The One”, Catholic educators must first witness to their ‘one-ness’ in Christ, with each other as “members [of the Body of Christ] united to the Head” and with their students as “companions on the journey of continuous learning in life.” They can only do this if they “de-centre” themselves “as a stimulus to grow” in unity.

• Love: “Sharing knowledge is not enough for teaching: love is needed,” said the Pope, for as St Augustine taught: “The love of God is the first commandment, the love of neighbour is the first practice.” He asked: “What efforts are we making to build bridges of dialogue and peace, even within teaching communities; what skills are we developing to overcome preconceptions or narrow views; what openness are we showing in co-learning processes; and what efforts are we making to meet and respond to the needs of the most fragile, poor and excluded?”

• Joy: “True teachers educate with a smile, and their goal is to awaken smiles in the depths of their students’ souls… the very joy of the educational process is a fully human engagement, a ‘flame to melt our souls together, and out of many to make but one.’ (St Augustine)”

Being grounded firmly in Christ our Head Coach in this way is critical, for both athletes and educators.

As St John Paul II reminded athletes participating in the World Athletics Championships in Rome, 1987:

“[You athletes are exposed to] considerable psychological pressures because people tend to extol you as heroes, as human models who inspire ideals of life and action, especially among youth… You are observed by many people and expected to be outstanding figures, not only during athletic competitions but also when you are off the sports field. You are asked to be examples of human virtue, apart from your accomplishments of physical strength and endurance… If sport is reduced to the cult of the human body, forgetting the primacy of the spirit, or if it were to hinder your moral and intellectual development, or result in your serving less than noble aims, then it would lose its true significance and, in the long run, it would become even harmful to your healthy and full growth as human persons.”

It is not difficult to see the parallels between athletics and Catholic education.

May our season of Advent and Christmastide this year draw us closer to Christ our King, Master Teacher, and Head Coach as we prepare to run together this marathon steeplechase of life as Catholic educators, steadfast and single-minded in setting our faces in unity, love and joy towards our final goal – the heavenly Jerusalem.

As we draw near to the end of the calendar year, we find ourselves in a season of preparation.

Many of us may already be winding down and preparing for year-end holidays with our families, while others may still be busy in school preparing for P1 orientations, or P6 and Sec 4 graduation and prize-giving ceremonies, and prom nights. Still others are preparing students for the ongoing O and A level exams.

Yet, how many of us are preparing for the start of the new liturgical year and the season of Advent—a time of preparation for the arrival of Christ, not only His First Coming as a newborn babe at Christmas, but also His Second Coming as the Lord of lords and King of kings in the end-times?

Why we should prepare for Advent

We seem to be more diligent in preparing for Lent than Advent – we plan quite early on what we’re going to fast from or what extra we’re going to do, which spiritual or corporal works of mercy we’re going to undertake, and to whom to give alms and how much. Church ministries also begin preparing for more meaningful Lenten events and spiritual reflections for parishioners.

Yet why are we less intentional about Advent? After all, as Fr Ignatius Yeo observed in a Catholic News article, “both seasons employ the use of purple vestments, have a ‘rose’ Sunday – Gaudete Sunday in Advent and Laetare Sunday in Lent – and eliminate the Gloria during Mass. Furthermore, both seasons lead up to an important solemnity of the Lord – Christmas and Easter respectively. This is why they are both sometimes identified as penitential seasons.”

However, as Fr Yeo pointed out, the difference between the two is that, while Lent is a season to join ourselves to Christ by our repentance, confession of sin, and participation in His redemptive sufferings, “our joyful Advent ‘penance’ is primarily focused on removing anything that blocks Jesus from entering our hearts at Christmas.”

Advent is rooted in the Latin adventus or “arrival”, which in turn derives from the Latin ad + venire, which means, essentially, “to come to” or “to come toward”.

Last year, the whole of Catholic Singapore, and many non-Catholics too, was abuzz with expectancy and excitement at the imminent arrival of Pope Francis, the successor of St Peter, and elaborate preparations were made accordingly. What more the preparations for the imminent arrival of the Christ, St Peter’s Master?

Indeed, the Church teaches, “The coming of God’s Son to earth is an event of such immensity that God willed to prepare for it over centuries.” (Catechism of the Catholic Church, CCC 522) “When the Church celebrates the liturgy of Advent each year, she makes present this ancient expectancy of the Messiah, for by sharing in the long preparation for the Saviour’s First Coming, the faithful renew their ardent desire for His Second Coming.” (CCC 524)

To prepare for Advent then, we should, like wise bridesmaids, stay spiritually awake, ensuring the lamps of our souls are filled with the “oil of gladness”, and the wicks of our consciences trimmed, so that upon the bridegroom’s arrival, the light of our faith will illuminate the Way for others to “arrive” with Him to the great wedding banquet in heaven (Matthew 25:1–13).

How we could prepare for Advent

Apart from buying materials to craft our Advent calendars, Advent wreaths, Jesse trees and Nativity scenes, let us remember American Catholic theologian Dr Scott Hahn’s wise counsel: “If we want to advance in the spiritual life, we should first retreat.”

A good way to prepare ourselves seriously to advance spiritually into Advent is to literally go on retreat. How so and why?

1. We find silence

Going on retreat means intentionally leaving the Martha in us for an extended duration and letting our Mary choose “the better part”.

We need to unlock our eyes from the different-sized screens of our mobiles (S), laptops (M), TVs (L), movie theatres (XL) and turn our gaze upon God in the Blessed Sacrament, in the holy (hardcopy) books of Scripture or in the great canvas of Creation.

We need to detach from our fast-paced, noise-polluted and rest-deprived daily routines to seek refuge in Christ in the solitude, stillness and silence of our hearts.

Perhaps we simply need the peace and quiet of a good night’s sleep: “It is in vain that you rise up early and go late to rest, eating the bread of anxious toil; for He gives sleep to His beloved.” (Psalm 127:2)

2. We are prepared for mission

“‘Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.’ For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.” (Mark 6:31)

We obey the Lord by making a mini retreat every time we go to Mass: together with other members of the People of God, we exit the world to pray, listen to the Word of God, allow the Holy Spirit to fall upon us “like the dewfall” and touch Jesus in the Holy Eucharist.

We leave, sent on mission, to bring what we have just received – the real presence of Christ – into the secular world, as living proof through our love and witness that “The Kingdom of God is among you” (Luke 17:21).

But nemo dat non quod habet – no one can give what they do not have. Originally a legal maxim in commercial and property law, we can use it to illustrate how head knowledge of Christ is not enough – if we do not have heart knowledge of Christ as our Teacher, brother and friend, how can we share Him effectively with others?

How much more would going on an extended retreat prepare us to become better missionaries!

Moses was on Mount Sinai for 40 days and 40 nights preparing to receive the Ten Commandments before giving them to the people to prepare them for entry into the Promised Land.

John the Baptist spent all his life in the desert preparing to prepare the way for Christ.

Jesus spent 40 days and 40 nights in the desert to prepare for His preparation of the Apostles for the Great Commission.

Peter, James and John were on the Mount of the Transfiguration with Jesus to prepare them for the Passion and its aftermath (Matthew 17:1), and Paul spent a very intense three days and nights with the Lord in his temporary blindness to prepare for his apostleship to the Gentiles and his preparation of the converts to become the earliest Christians.

3. We attune ourselves to God’s will

Pope Francis teaches that God calls each of us to be saints. “Each saint is a mission, planned by the Father to reflect and embody, at a specific moment in history, a certain aspect of the Gospel.” (Gaudete et exsultate 19) Before we can be His saints, we must know His will and His mission for us.

The Lord’s voice may be difficult to distinguish in the cacophony of noise both within and without ourselves. God had to call Samuel several times before he could recognise God and respond “Speak Lord, your servant is listening,” and even then, only with the priest Eli’s guidance. The kings of Israel and Judah preferred to heed the voices of the world rather than that of God’s through the prophets. Judas was deaf to Jesus’ voice of love and mercy incarnate.

In retreats, the Lord aligns our spiritual antenna to His wavelength. Through His Word contemplated in private prayer, preached or spoken through spiritual directors, proclaimed in the beauty of creation, audible in the soft, gentle promptings of the Spirit (like Elijah on Mount Horeb in 1 Kings 19:11–12) or even when sleeping (like St Joseph in Matthew 1:20), God recalibrates our will to be in synchrony with His.

“Be still and know I am God” is why many faithful are drawn to silent retreats. Robert Cardinal Sarah wrote: “Nothing will make us discover God better than His silence inscribed in the centre of our being. If we do not cultivate this silence, how can we find Him?”

4. We are refilled with the Holy Spirit

In human warfare, when an army retreats, it is usually because it is in danger of being overwhelmed by its enemy.

Jesus retreated to lonely places when He was tired, grieving the death of St John the Baptist, or preparing for the Cross in the Garden of Gethsemane. In the Old Testament, Elijah retreated to Mount Horeb for 40 days and 40 nights after doing battle with evil Queen Jezebel’s prophets of Baal.

In much the same way, the life of discipleship today is often a seemingly endless battle against secularism and subjective moral ambiguity. Just as soldiers retreat in war to rest, regroup, wait for reinforcements and re-strategize, we too, like Jesus, need to “retreat” from the spiritual battlefield of the world to report to our Commander-in-Chief, receive new directions from Him, have our wounds tended to, and be refitted with the armour of God and re-armed with the gifts of the Holy Spirit (Ephesians 6:10–17).

Thus recharged and re-empowered, we can continue fighting the good fight (1 Timothy 6:12) which St Paul charged us to do “without spot or blame until the appearing of our Lord Jesus Christ, which God will bring about in His own time.” (1 Tim 6:14–16)

5. We never retreat alone

“Then God said, ‘Let us make humankind in our image, according to our likeness.’” (Genesis 1:26) We were created for Trinitarian communion.

The fruits of Pentecost Sunday were that 3,000 more believers were added to the fledgling Church. “They were continually devoting themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, to the breaking of bread and to prayer” (Acts 2). How the Church grew after that is His-tory.

Those of us who retreat to devote ourselves to contemplation of the Word and Church teaching, to receiving Holy Communion and to prayer, also find the opportunity to forge new friendships and draw closer to God and to one another through shared experiences and fellowship, and being on mission together thereafter.

Remember that, during Advent, Mary, Joseph and Jesus in Mary’s womb were journeying as a family to Bethlehem in preparation for the Incarnation; and the Magi were on a joint pilgrimage towards the manger, preparing to do homage to the newborn King of the Jews. How they must have prepared for their respective long and hazardous journeys!

As Jesus would rhetorically ask later, “Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it?” And “Suppose a king is about to go to war against another king. Won’t he first sit down and consider whether he is able with ten thousand men to oppose the one coming against him with twenty thousand?” (Luke 14:28, 31).

As we must have told our students a thousand times, “Preparation is the key to success.” But do we practise what we preach? How will Christ the King find the state of our hearts at the end of the liturgical year?

Let us seriously consider making preparations for Advent and the Lord’s imminent arrival at Christmas one of our liturgical new year resolutions.

Adapted from an article first published in the 28 Nov 2021 issue of Catholic News.

To find out where and when any retreats or Days of Recollection are being held this Advent and throughout the year in Singapore, you may try inquiring with Archdiocesan Commission for Catholic Schools (ACCS), the Catholic Leadership Centre (CLC), the Catholic Spirituality Centre (CSC) or retreat centres such as Montfort Centre, Lifesprings Canossian Spirituality Centre, the Cenacle Mission Singapore, Kingsmead Centre, the FMM House of Prayer, San Damiano Franciscan Centre and La Salle House. Life Direction Singapore has links to all the above at: https://lifedirectionsingapore.sg/links/ There are also many retreat centres overseas.