We are delighted to share with you a special edition of our parish bulletin for the Christmas Season. In it, you will find various texts and images, reminders of where we have been as a parish family and the next steps that we are taking together. 
Merry Christmas!

One of the simplest things we do at Christmas is greet one another. Yes, there are gifts and cards and customs of all sorts, but the greeting can be so simple. 

We say familiar words—Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays. And yet, behind those words is something much more profound. Because the way we greet one another often reveals what we believe this event is really about.

In some languages, the translation is very direct. In Spanish, we say Feliz Navidad, happy because this day celebrates the birth of Christ. In French, we say Joyex Noel – be joyful in his coming. In Tagalog, we say Maligayang Pasko. In Viet’namese, we say Giáng sinh vui vẻ. In Egbo, Ekele Ekeresimesi. Across cultures and languages, the joy is the same: God has come!

In English, though, our greeting carries a bit of history. Because of Old English and the naming of special feasts we say Merry Christmas. It’s an older word, almost antiquated, but it’s a beautiful one calling us to “Be of good cheer.” And as children, many of us were taught another phrase altogether. In my home, we used to say, Happy Birthday, Jesus, just to make sure we didn’t forget what this day was really about.

But I wonder if all of our greetings—to one another—are quietly pointing toward a greeting we are meant to offer to someone else. We have spent the past few weeks not greeting each other for Christmas, but calling out to the Lord that he would come and Save us! Christmas is not only about how we greet each other. It is about how we greet the Lord as He comes.

There is a phrase that has been turning in my heart over Advent and in this Christmas, something I have wanted to say to Jesus. It doesn’t rhyme. It doesn’t fit neatly into a greeting card. It has more syllables than Merry Christmas. But it may be the most honest prayer of the human heart:

“May you come and stay with us.”

Not just come. But come—and remain.

That, really, is what every human heart longs for—especially a heart that knows its need for a Savior. A heart that is aware of the brokenness of the world. A heart that knows sin, weakness, fear, and longing. A heart that knows the world needs his light and our families need his peace.

And so when we say Merry Christmas to one another, perhaps what we are really doing is praying. Petitioning. Kneeling interiorly. Adoring the Lord Jesus and saying with our lives: May you come and stay with us. 

Our Advent season prepared us for this. Early on, Advent pointed us toward Christ’s coming at the end of time—when He will come as judge. John the Baptist called us to be ready. But as Advent unfolded, there was a shift. The cry of the Church remained “Come, Lord Jesus”—Maranatha—but it became more intimate. And today, the invitation that invitation becomes  “Come and adore Him” – “Venite adoremus.”

How beautiful it is to encourage one another not simply to celebrate a birth, but to adore the Savior who is born. Even as a child, He comes with saving power—into our lives, into our homes, into our brokenness and our need.

And that is why on Christmas Day, the Church does not give us shepherds or angels or a manger. Instead, we hear John’s deep meditation: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” Literally, He pitched His tent among us. He did not simply arrive. He remained.

It is one thing to come. It is another thing to stay – to abide.

This is the longing of the human heart: not just that God would visit us, but that He would remain with us. That our lives would matter because of the birth of this Child. Because of the Savior who desires to stay.

The Gospel at night places us in Bethlehem, where the Son of God is laid in a manger. And a manger, of course, is a feeding trough. From the very beginning, the sign of His presence is food. Before He speaks a word. Before He performs a miracle. Before He carries the Cross.

From the start, He is showing us how He intends to stay. And on the last night of His earthly life, Jesus makes that promise unmistakably clear. He places Himself before His disciples as food and says, “Do this in memory of me.” And when the Church does this—He comes. Truly. Really. Substantially. Not as a memory, but as a presence, with his divinity that he exchanges with our humanity

And that is what will happen here on Christmas.

No longer lying in a manger, but hidden under the appearance of bread—Jesus is placed on this altar. Confected by the same words that he spoke – “This is my Body.” The same Lord born in Bethlehem, which means “House of Bread,” will come to feed His people with his flesh.

And whether we can receive Him in Holy Communion at Mass having properly prepared or whether you are still finding your way back to him and his Church, know this: He has not stopped coming for you. He has not stopped staying for you. And each of us can come to adore him. A simple confession makes a new fresh start!

“I will remain with you always, until the end of the age.” Because the child born  is the Savior who chooses not to leave. So, in saying Merry Christmas, may it be more than a greeting. May you come—and may you stay with us, Lord Jesus!

Merry Christmas!