Brief Background:

Saint Basil the Great and Saint Gregory Nazianzen were close friends, bishops, and towering theologians of the fourth century, remembered together for their profound defense of the faith and their deep pastoral charity. Basil, Bishop of Caesarea, was instrumental in shaping Christian monastic life in the East, emphasizing community, prayer, and service to the poor; he is also known for his care for the sick and marginalized through institutions often compared to early hospitals. Because of this, he is regarded as a patron saint of monks, hospital administrators, and those who serve the poor. Gregory Nazianzen, later Archbishop of Constantinople, was a gifted preacher and poet whose eloquent writings helped the Church articulate the mystery of the Trinity during a time of doctrinal confusion. Known as “the Theologian,” he is considered a patron saint of theologians and poets. Together, these two Doctors of the Church show how deep friendship, sound teaching, and pastoral love can strengthen the Church in times of challenge.

REFLECTION:

There was a moment in one parish when a woman asked the pastor if she could help lead the singing at the daily morning Mass. She simply wanted to offer a few songs to support the prayer of the community, and the pastor kindly agreed.

One morning, while I was celebrating Mass, she sang a Christmas song after Communion—even though the Church was clearly in the season of Lent. After Mass, I gently spoke with her and explained that the song, though beautiful, was not appropriate for the liturgical season we were celebrating.

She responded sincerely, “I love Christmas. I think every day should be Christmas.”

I replied, “That’s a beautiful love for Christmas—but in the liturgy, we pray with the season we are given. Right now, the Church is walking through Lent, not Christmas. And so the music, like our prayer, needs to reflect the season we are celebrating.”

This situation is not unique. It happens in many parishes. People often have deep personal devotions, favorite prayers, songs, or seasons that speak to their hearts—and that is a good thing. The Church honors personal devotion. But at the same time, the central focus of every Catholic church is not a season, a song, or a preference—it is Jesus Christ truly present in the Eucharist. Everything we do in the liturgy flows from and leads back to Him.

That insight connects beautifully with 1 John 2:22–28. John reminds the community not to reshape the faith according to personal desire, but to “let what you heard from the beginning remain in you.” Christmas proclaims that truth clearly: the Word became flesh and remains with us—not only in memory, but sacramentally, here and now, in the Eucharist.

Loving Christmas is good. Wanting the joy, peace, and closeness of God that Christmas brings is holy. But the Christian life is not about choosing one moment and staying there. It is about remaining in Christ through every season—joyful and quiet, penitential and hopeful. The Church’s liturgical seasons help us do exactly that. Christmas teaches us joy. Lent teaches us conversion. Easter teaches us hope. Ordinary Time teaches us fidelity. Each season forms us so that our love for Christ matures and deepens.

John also reminds us that we have already received an anointing—the Holy Spirit. This Spirit helps us recognize truth and remain rooted, not in feelings or preferences, but in Christ Himself. To remain in Him means allowing our prayer, our teaching, and our service—both in the parish and in the school—to be shaped by the Church’s wisdom and centered on the Eucharist.

For us as parishioners and school staff, this reflection invites a gentle but important question:
Are we allowing the Church to form our faith, or are we forming the faith around ourselves?

• In the parish, remaining in Christ means worshiping with the Church, keeping the Eucharist at the center.
• In the school, it means forming students not only in joyful celebrations, but also in discipline, reverence, and growth.
• In daily life, it means staying faithful even when the season—or the moment—is not our favorite.

Christmas does not end when the decorations come down. Its power grows when we let the Incarnation shape how we live in every season. When we remain in Christ—especially in the Eucharist—we will stand before Him with confidence, not because we held onto one moment, but because we walked faithfully with Him through them all.



Christmas continues wherever Christ remains at the center.