Reflections

Solomon seems untouchable: wisdom like water, a temple rising in glory, a kingdom at peace. Yet his story turns tragic as multiplied loves divide his heart and altars to lesser gods eclipse devotion—until the kingdom itself begins to tear. This reflection looks at why gifted people still fall, how private drift becomes communal ruin, and why Solomon’s legacy is finally not achievement but mercy: the God who remains faithful when we do not—and invites us to return, undivided, to the One who loves us still.

Advent is not only a countdown—it is a school of hope, and Mary is its best teacher. This night of recollection invites you to pray the season “through Our Lady’s eyes,” entering her waiting with trust rather than restlessness. Drawing on St. Josemaría, it introduces Lectio Divina as a concrete way to slow down, listen to Scripture, and let the Word reshape daily life. Learn to read, ponder, pray, and rest with Mary, so Christmas arrives not as noise, but as grace.

N.B. This reflection is on Luke 3:1-6 from the Second Sunday of Advent, Year C.

In stillness we gather by candlelight to prepare our hearts for the coming of Christ. This Gospel reading from Luke, though seemingly unusual in its detailed account of rulers and regions, invites us into something profound: the historical reality of God’s intervention in the world. Luke begins with a litany of names and titles, grounding the story of salvation in a particular time and place. This is no accident, for it reminds us, as we affirm in the Nicene Creed, that Jesus “suffered under Pontius Pilate.” Christianity is not a myth, not a collection of poetic fables disconnected from reality. It is history—God stepping into time, taking on human flesh, and transforming the course of humanity forever.