Dear brothers and sisters in Christ,
In Vietnam, as soon as Christmas is over, people begin preparing for Tết – the Lunar New Year, moving almost seamlessly from one joy to the next. I still remember how homes would slowly come alive again—floors carefully cleaned, the family altar refreshed, cherry blossoms placed in simple vases, and lanterns glowing softly as if the house itself were breathing with expectation. Cleaning was a way of letting go of what no longer belonged. Lighting the house was a quiet hope that the new year would begin with clarity, peace, and blessing. There was no long winter pause, no sense that celebration had to wait. Even the air felt lighter, and hearts seemed more ready to welcome what was coming next.
Here in the United States, the rhythm is different. Christmas often ends just as the cold deepens, the days grow shorter, and spring still feels far away. Yet this contrast helps us recognize something deeply human and deeply spiritual about Tết: its gentle insistence that light must be intentionally tended. Warmth does not simply arrive; it is created. Light appears not only in decorations, but in doors opening to welcome family and friends, in elders being honored, and in children receiving lì xì—small red envelopes that carry not just money, but blessings, encouragement, and hope for the future. In these simple traditions, hearts are warmed, bonds are strengthened, and joy quietly takes root.
That is why today’s Gospel feels especially close to us. Jesus looks at His disciples and says, “You are the light of the world” (Matthew 5:13-16). He says this not as praise, but as a calling entrusted to ordinary people learning, day by day, how to follow Him. This light is not meant to be admired from a distance or saved for special moments. It is meant to be lived—seen in patience offered when it is difficult, in forgiveness given when it is undeserved, and in generosity that expects nothing in return. When lived quietly and faithfully, such light helps others find their way and reassures them that God has not forgotten them.
The prophet Isaiah reminds us that this light shines most clearly when it takes concrete form: when bread is shared with the hungry, when the afflicted are not ignored, when compassion becomes action (cf. Isaiah 58:7-10). Saint Paul echoes this same truth, reminding us that God’s power does not depend on impressive words or clever arguments, but is revealed through humility, sincerity, and trust (cf. 1 Corinthians 2:1-5).
As we enter the Year of the Horse, we are invited to embrace a symbol full of energy and forward movement. In many Asian cultures, the horse represents strength, endurance, loyalty, and perseverance. It does not linger in place or move half-heartedly; it continues onward with purpose. Spiritually, this year encourages us not to grow passive or comfortable in our faith, but to keep moving forward—to carry the light entrusted to us into new situations, new relationships, and new acts of service. The Year of the Horse calls us to persevere with hope, trusting that God’s grace will sustain us even when the journey feels long.
Together with our parish priests, I extend my warmest wishes to all of you, especially our Asian brothers and sisters, for a Blessed Lunar New Year filled with peace, joy, and renewed hope. You are remembered and cherished in prayer, especially during our Solemn New Year Mass this Sunday at 3PM, hosted by our vibrant Vietnamese community. We are honored to welcome Bishop Raymond F. Chappetto, native son of our parish, along with many priests, seminarians, religious, and lay faithful, as we gather to give thanks and celebrate together.
May this new year find us not hiding our light, but placing it where it belongs—on the lampstand—so that through our lives, others may glimpse the goodness of God and give glory to Him.
Happy New Year – “Chúc Mừng Năm Mới!”
Msgr. “John” Cuong M. Pham