Even after nearly 2,000 years, we still have trouble fully appreciating the beautiful church teaching about the conception of Mary.

When we have empathy for the least of these immigrants and refugees — without regard to their legal status — we have empathy for Jesus.

When it’s Christmastime in the city, Christ’s presence can still loom larger than any skyscraper, draw big crowds and applause, and shine brighter than any light.

True friendship reflects the relationship of the Trinity which is irreplaceable by technology.

Cedric Dickens, Charles Dickens’ great grandson, talks about the significance of the hot, boozy beverage and its place in the closing scene of “A Christmas Carol” in the introduction of his book “Drinking with Dickens”:

The Bible clearly tells us that the happily ever after we all long for is a marriage.

During Advent, traditional reflections remind us that our call to evangelize involves waiting and anticipation. As we move toward Christmas, we relive the long-expected coming of the Messiah by the Jewish people.

Surveys indicate that reading books is dropping precipitously across all age groups. This is a tragedy in itself; it’s also a social disaster, as a post-literate society risks becoming a post-rational society. All the more reason, then, to consider giving books for Christmas: books that entertain, inform, and open new horizons of understanding.

Catholics aren’t required to “give anything up” for Advent. And even while the practice of taking on an additional, personal Lenten penance is a well-established and praiseworthy custom, Catholics technically aren’t required to do anything extra for Lent beyond the usual fasting and abstinence from meat (see Canon 1251 of the Code of Canon Law).

I never would have thought those two things would happen on the same day.