2nd Sunday of Christmas Year A 2026 b

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.

( Ga 1, 1 )

Before the world began, the wisdom of God shone forth from the Trinity. It shone with a restlessness that St Augustine eventually identified as “hearts that are restless and troubled until they find rest in You.” This restlessness, however, signified a love that longed to be shared. It was the Father who, having “predestined us for adoption as sons through Jesus Christ”, had written our names in his heart before time began.

God did not choose to be distant, detached, or remain beyond our reach. Instead, God chose closeness. God came to live with his people, walk with them through deserts, sustain them with promises, guide them with mercy, and speak through prophets, priests, and kings. Emmanuel d’Alzon recognised this: “God so loved the world that God gave it his Son, and his Son so loved us that he gave us his Mother, Mary.” 

Then came the moment in history when “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” Dwelt—not visited, did not appear briefly, but pitched his tent among us. God shared our dust and our tears, our bread and our laughter. Augustine explained “The Word became flesh so that your wisdom, by which you created all things, might become milk for our infancy.” Infinite wisdom bent low to nourish us.

God became vulnerable. The Creator chose to become part of his creation. As Pope Leo said, the Incarnation reveals “God’s overwhelming desire to be close to humanity,” a closeness so radical that it unsettles our understanding of divine power and majesty. God is not distant. God entered fully into our human story.

Through Christ, strangers become family. Emmanuel d’Alzon understood that “The Incarnation was the great mystery of God’s love for humankind.” This is not tolerance, nor mercy offered from afar, but Love — intimate, sacrificial, transforming love.

We are adopted, not orphans. We are children welcomed into the Father’s home, held in the Spirit’s embrace, and drawn into fellowship with the Son. Augustine marvelled: “Behold, you were within me, and I out of myself, and there I searched for you.” He discovered that Christ could bridge any chasm created by sin.

One can only respond to such extravagant love with wonder. God chose mortality. The Infinite became an infant. The Word who spoke galaxies into being learned human words from Mary’s lips.

The Christmas mystery reveals God’s wisdom living among us, making us the adopted children we were always meant to be. Becoming flesh, Jesus leaves us breathless. Pope Leo echoes the Assumptionist charism, calling us to “proclaim the coming of God’s Kingdom,” carrying forward d’Alzon’s burning conviction that the Incarnation can transform every area of life.

May gratitude overwhelm us and wonder burst forth. The God of infinite glory deemed you and me worthy of the Incarnation. God did not send a message or an angel—God came, took flesh, shared our tears, died our death, and opened wide the gates of heaven. Blessed be God! Alleluia!

By Fr. Thomas O'Brien a.a.