Thursday, January 22, 2026

Homily for OT III [A] Isaiah 8:23—9:3; 1 Corinthians 1:10–13, 17; Matthew 4:12–23

In today’s liturgy, we hear a familiar refrain echo twice through Scripture—first in Isaiah’s prophecy and then again in Matthew’s Gospel: “Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the way to the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles: the people who sit in darkness have seen a great light; on those dwelling in a land overshadowed by death, light has arisen.”

In Isaiah, these words are a promise. In Matthew, they become a fulfillment. The prophecy and its realization meet in Jesus Christ—the true light breaking into human darkness.

The “land of Zebulun” and “land of Naphtali” were regions in the northern part of Galilee, near the Sea of Galilee. One of their cities, Capernaum, became the center of Jesus’ public ministry. It was there that the people first experienced the Light Himself. Four fishermen—Simon Peter and Andrew, James and John—heard Him call, “Follow me,” and their response was immediate. They left their nets, their boats, and their familiar lives to follow Him and become “fishers of men.” In that moment, the light that dawned in Galilee began to spread across the world. 

But although the Light has come, darkness remains in many corners of human life. Some walk in darkness through no fault of their own, while others choose it—preferring not to see or to know what truth asks of them. The prophet’s words still speak to us: there are people “sitting” in darkness, content to remain there.

We can think of three kinds of darkness that shadow our society today.

The first is the darkness surrounding respect for life. This past week, the annual March for Life took place. Some may wonder why it still matters now that Roe v. Wade has been overturned. But the issue is far from resolved. The decision simply returned the question to the states; it did not affirm the dignity of every human life. Many still prefer not to think about what happens in abortion clinics or how deeply women and families are wounded by this tragedy. The truth is difficult and painful—but turning away from it keeps us in the dark.

A second darkness is the cruelty of human trafficking—one of the largest criminal industries in the world, generating over $150 billion annually. Much of it is fueled by a culture that thrives on exploitation and the distortion of human love. Yet many refuse to face this truth. It is easier not to think about what is hidden behind our screens, easier to look away. But those who walk with Christ cannot remain indifferent; His light exposes injustice and calls us to defend the dignity of every person.

A third, all-too-familiar darkness is the scourge of drug addiction. Hundreds of thousands in our nation lose their lives each year to overdose—a staggering destruction that touches every level of society. Families grieve, communities weaken, and hope fades. Yet even here, many hide behind excuses rather than confronting the despair beneath the surface.

As disciples of Jesus, we are called to bring His light into these very places. The world’s pain does not ask for condemnation but for compassion illuminated by truth. Some people are thrust into darkness through circumstances beyond their control—loneliness, poverty, or lack of support. These sufferings are real shadows that cry out for light. When we offer practical help, a listening ear, or simple kindness, we help them glimpse the light of Christ.

We can either be silent witnesses to a world darkened by sin and despair, or we can shine Christ’s light and allow it to transform everything it touches. In His light, our vision is renewed. What once looked hopeless begins to reveal possibility. In that light, our own stories change—from heartbreak to healing, and from darkness into dawn.   

The contrast is striking: the world is beautiful for those who live in the light; it is bleak for those who remain in darkness. As followers of Christ, we cannot keep the light to ourselves. Like the first disciples, we are sent to tell others that Jesus is alive, that He loves them, and that He calls them into His marvelous light.

Our discipleship is never meant to be private. The word Mass comes from the Latin missio, meaning “sending.” Each time we gather for the Eucharist, we are strengthened and then sent to be light-bearers, extending Christ’s mission of healing and reconciliation into the world.

Repent, for the Kingdom of heaven is at hand,” Jesus proclaimed. To repent is to turn away from the shadows and move toward the light that frees us. Each of us is personally summoned to leave behind anything that darkens the heart and follow Christ fully.

If anyone among us still walks in darkness—caught in guilt, bitterness, or fear—do not grow comfortable in the dark. The Lord does not want us simply to see His light; He wants us to become His light, reflecting Him through our words, our choices, and our compassion.

Discipleship means walking daily with Christ, allowing His radiance to dispel the shadows within us and around us. We are the people who once sat in darkness, but upon us a great light has shone. May we follow that Light wherever it leads, carrying it into every corner of our world until all creation glows with the brightness of Christ.

Lord Jesus, let Your light scatter the darkness of our hearts and the shadows of our world. Grant us the courage to answer Your call and the grace to be Your reflection to all we meet. Amen


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