THE GLORY OF THE SON, THE PRAISE OF THE WORD

V/​ My eyes are turned to you, O Lord.

R/​ You are the joy and gladness of my youth.

V/​ Grant me the Wisdom that sits by your throne.

R/ That I may dwell as a child in your presence.

Let us pray. Lord, in your loving design, you have drawn me here to encounter you in your Word and, in you, to find myself. Empower me by your Wisdom, that this meditation may be a font of transformation and freedom, bearing fruit for my salvation and that of the whole Church. Amen

THE GLORY OF THE SON, THE PRAISE OF THE WORD

CHRISTMAS DAY

Isaiah 52:7-10; Psalm 97(98); Hebrews 1:1-6; John 1:1-18

25th December 2025

Last night, we looked down at a child; the liturgy today invites us to look up into the very heart of the Trinity. Our readings shift from the narrative of St Luke—shepherds and swaddling clothes—to the soaring theological hymn of St John and the precise Christology of the Letter to the Hebrews. We move from the events of history to the meaning of history.

The Letter to the Hebrews opens with a staggering statement of finality: ‘In our own time, the last days, God has spoken to us through his Son.’

Before Christ, revelation was fragmentary—dreams, burning bushes, the thunder of Sinai. But now, God does not merely send a message; He sends Himself. As Pope Benedict XVI so often reminded us, Christianity is not a ‘religion of the book’ in the strict sense; it is the religion of the Word—not a written and mute word, but the Word incarnate and living.

St John identifies this cosmic principle and gives it a face: ‘The Word was made flesh, and lived among us.’ The Greek text uses the verb eskēnōsen—literally, ‘he pitched his tent among us.’ God dwells in the fragile tent of human nature.

This mystery is reverenced in today’s Collect: ‘O God, who wonderfully created the dignity of human nature and still more wonderfully restored it…’ This is the ‘admirable exchange’ (admirabile commercium). God becomes man so that man might become God. He takes on our poverty—our mortality and ‘ruins’—so that we might possess His wealth.

The birth of Christ is not merely a historical event; it is a reality that must occur in the soul of every believer. St John tells us, ‘To all who did accept him he gave power to become children of God.’ This birth takes place in the silence of the heart. The noisy world often deafens us, causing us to miss the unexpected epiphanies of the Word in our families and relationships. If only we sit with these imperfect harbingers, the living Word becomes visible.

Isaiah lauds the messengers whose ‘feet are beautiful’ because they bring good news. Why the feet? Because they represent the approach. God is not a static deity watching from a distance; He is a God who has walked the dust of our earth so that He might walk the pathways of our souls.

Yet, St John issues a sombre warning: ‘He came to his own domain and his own people did not accept him.’ The Inn is often full within us—cluttered with worries and the debris of the ego. We must acknowledge the chaos of our lives outside of God. This is the default setting of every divine project: “In the beginning was the Word.” It is the Word alone that brings order.

So today, let us stand before the ‘radiant light of God’s glory’ (Heb 1:3). We gaze upon the face of a Son who looks upon our human condition with infinite love.

The Word has been spoken. As our Father St John of the Cross reminds us: ‘The Father spoke one Word, which was his Son, and this Word he speaks always in eternal silence, and in silence must it be heard by the soul.’

May we have the silence to hear Him, and the courage to echo Him to the ends of the earth.