Today, as I celebrate this Thanksgiving Mass, I feel deeply grateful for the journey that brought me here.

I’ve been walking this journey for 11 years. My vocation story began when I was about five or six, my mum used to pray that someone in our family would become a priest or a sister. She often used the Chinese word “Xiudao” (修道) — which can mean both “fixing the road” and “following the way of Jesus.” My mum liked to joke with us: “When you grow up, what are you going to do? Fix the road, or follow Jesus?” I always said I wanted to follow Jesus.                    

I still remember her smile at that moment. That simple question planted the seed of my vocation. Behind her little joke was her deep faith and her prayer that I would discover God’s will in my life. Finally, from her prayer three of us are dedicated to God, one sister and two priests. Hopefully, there will be more from my next generation at moment 9 nephews and 3 nieces.

But as I grew up, that thought disappeared. I became a bit of a naughty boy — I repeated Year 9, stopped in Year 11, and I did not go to fix the road but I went to fix trucks with my dad. After three months, I gave up — it was too hard! — and asked my father to send me back to school.

If I think about when my vocation really began, it was the day my brother Andrew gave his life to God. I still remember sitting at the back, watching him stand before the altar. A question came into my mind: “Why him, and not me? Why is he standing there, and not me?”

That question stayed with me. I began to pray and think about it. Now I understand — it was not jealousy at all. It was the beginning of God’s gentle call in my life.

Later, I joined a seven-day vocation camp with the theme “Come and See.” When I read the Gospel where Jesus says to Peter and Andrew, “Come and see,” those words touched me deeply. That same invitation changed their lives — and also changed mine. So I said “yes” and entered the seminary. To be honest, I told myself, “If this life is not for me, I’ll just go home.” But, until today, I’ve never told my parents I want to stop or I was planning to go home because somehow, God never stopped leading me forward.

Of course, the journey was not easy.
When I came to Australia, I became like a baby — I couldn’t speak English, didn’t understand the culture, and sometimes didn’t even know if people were joking or serious! I only knew two words: “Yeah, yeah, yeah,” and “No, no, no.” So I just smiled and nodded, pretending I understood — but actually, I had no idea what was happening!

At that time, I was the only Chinese seminarian in Box Hill, and I often felt lonely and homesick. But in those moments, God sent many companions — my friends, and my SVD brothers. Through their care, encouragement, and prayers, I experienced what it truly means to belong to one family in faith — even though we come from different countries and cultures.

Now, I often think I’ve become a baby three times. The first time was when I was born — a little baby in China. The second time was when I came to Australia and started again.

And now, the third time — I am a baby priest, just one week old! Each time I became a “baby,” I discovered something new about God — that He keeps giving us new beginnings — not just once, but again and again.

And that’s exactly what Advent reminds us: God never stops coming into our lives. He is always calling us to start again, to trust again, and to hope again.

In the first reading, Isaiah says, “Come, let us go up to the mountain of the Lord.” It’s like he’s calling us forward — That’s how I see my own journey: every step, from China to Australia, from student to priest, was one small step up the mountain. Sometimes the path was hard, confusing, or even frightening. But along the way, I learned that hope is not about knowing where I am going — it’s about trusting who I am walking with. And now, I walk with all of you — in this place of love, support, and community.

In the second reading, Saint Paul tells us, “Wake up from sleep.” He’s not just talking about sleeping in bed — though I’m sure you will see the photos of me sleeping later. But St Paul reminds us not just to open the eyes but open the eyes of our hearts. Because sometimes we live as if God is far away, or life is just the same every day. But Advent reminds us: God is already here, working in our lives, even in the ordinary moments.

And Jesus says in the Gospel: “Be ready, stay awake.” Not with fear, but with hope. Because the One who is coming is not a stranger — He is the same Lord who has always walked with us, who has never stopped believing in us, even when we doubted ourselves.

So, as I celebrate this Thanksgiving Mass, I thank God not only for what He has done, but for what He is still doing.
My priesthood is just beginning — just as Advent begins a new liturgical year — both are seasons of hope, promise, and grace.             

Maybe this is also God’s invitation to each of us: to become “babies” again in our faith — open, humble, willing to learn, willing to trust, and ready to hope — just like the Baby Jesus who is coming to us again this Christmas.