Christmas Day (Year A) - 25 December 2025

These three readings proclaim God’s Word; let us prepare to listen and receive the Eucharist.

Isaiah 52: 7–10

How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the messenger who announces peace…

There is a moment in Isaiah 52 when the world seems to hold its breath. Watchmen stand on the ruined walls of Jerusalem, walls that once symbolised strength, now broken by exile, disappointment, and the long ache of waiting. Yet these watchmen, who have seen more than their share of sorrow, suddenly begin to shout for joy. Why? Because on the distant mountains they glimpse a messenger running toward them, carrying news that will change everything.

This is not ordinary news. Isaiah says it is good news of salvation, peace, and the triumph of our God. It is the kind of news that makes even ruins sing.

The Watchers and the Long Wait

Isaiah’s watchers represent all who have waited in darkness, those who have prayed without answers, hoped without evidence, and held on when everything seemed lost. They stand for every community that has known exile, every family that has known grief, every person who has felt forgotten.

Yet the watchers do not abandon their post. They keep looking outward, upward, beyond themselves. And because they keep watch, they are the first to see hope approaching.

Lesson: Sometimes the holiest thing we can do is simply keep watch, stay open, stay expectant, stay faithful, because God’s movement often begins at the edges before it reaches the centre.

The Messenger and the Good News

In the ancient world, messengers ran ahead of armies or kings to announce victory. Their arrival meant the battle was over, the danger had passed, and the people could breathe again.

Isaiah’s messenger brings three announcements:

• Peace, not the fragile peace of compromise, but the deep peace of restoration.

• Salvation, God stepping into human history to rescue, heal, and renew.

• The triumph of our God, not triumph through domination, but triumph through mercy and strength.

This is not just news about God. It is news that God is coming back, returning to Zion, returning to the heart of the people, returning to the places that felt abandoned.

Lesson: God’s good news is not abstract. It is embodied. It arrives in footsteps, in voices, in people who carry hope into broken places.

“O Ruins of Jerusalem, Break Forth into Singing!”

One of the most striking lines in this passage is the invitation for the ruins to sing. Not the rebuilt city. Not the restored temple. The ruins.

Isaiah is telling us something profound: God does not wait for us to be whole before bringing joy. God brings joy into the rubble.

This is the pattern of Scripture:

• God calls Abraham while he is still wandering.

• God speaks to Moses while he is hiding in Midian.

• God anoints David while he is still a shepherd boy.

• God sends Jesus into a world still under occupation.

God’s redemption begins in the ruins.

Lesson: Where we see rubble, God sees a place ready for resurrection.

Story

There is a story told in Igboland about a village that pooled their resources to send their beloved ward, Amaefuna, whose name means “let the compound or lineage not be lost” to America to study. They believed he would return with knowledge, honour, and a future for the entire community.

For fifteen years, they waited. Every day the elders gathered beneath the clusters of ogirisi trees to pray. Every evening the women lit lamps and sang songs of hope. The children, who had grown up hearing stories of Amaefuna, joined the waiting with innocent expectation.

But there were no letters.

No messages.

No sign of his return.

One morning, as the village prepared for yet another prayer gathering, a young woman named Mgbemfulu, her name meaning “when I see” walked into the square carrying a pregnancy. The elders, surprised, asked her why she had come this way.

She replied simply, “We cannot wait forever. Here is Ozoemena, meaning ‘let it not happen again.’”

Her words carried both sorrow and resolve: a recognition that hope deferred can wound a community, and a reminder that sometimes new beginnings arise not from what we waited for, but from what God brings forth amid our waiting.

Lesson: Isaiah’s watchers teach us that God’s arrival may not look like what we expected, but it will always bring life.

“All the World Will See…”

Isaiah ends with a sweeping vision: God’s salvation is not just for Jerusalem, not just for Israel, but for all the world. The messenger’s good news is not tribal or exclusive. It is universal, expansive, generous.

This is the heartbeat of the Gospel: What God restores in one place becomes hope for every place.

Hebrews 1:1–4

In these last days, God has spoken to us by a Son…

There are passages in Scripture that feel like doorways, thresholds into a larger, more luminous understanding of who God is and who we are. Hebrews 1:1–4 is one of those doorways. In just a few lines, the writer sweeps us from the ancient prophets to the dawn of creation, from the mystery of God’s glory to the intimacy of God’s voice in Jesus Christ.

It is as though the author wants us to pause, breathe, and realise: Everything God has ever been saying finds its fullness in Jesus.

The God Who Communicates

“Long ago, God spoke…”

The opening words remind us that God has always been speaking. Not occasionally. Not reluctantly. But continually, creatively, “in many and various ways.”

Through:

• the thunder of Sinai,

• the poetry of the Psalms,

• the fire of Elijah,

• the tears of Jeremiah,

• the dreams of Joseph,

• the courage of Esther.

God has never been silent. God has always been reaching toward humanity.

Lesson: Revelation is not an event; it is a relationship. God speaks because God desires to be known.

A New Kind of Speech

Then comes the turning point: “But in these last days, God has spoken to us by a Son.”

Not by a prophet.

Not by a vision.

Not by a symbol.

But by a person.

Jesus is not merely the messenger; He is the message. He is not simply the voice; He is the Word made flesh.

The writer of Hebrews is saying:

• If you want to know what God sounds like, look at Jesus.

• If you want to know what God cares about, watch Jesus.

• If you want to know how God loves, follow Jesus.

  
  

“The reflection of God’s glory, the exact imprint of God’s being”

These are some of the most breathtaking Christological statements in the New Testament.

• Jesus is the reflection of God’s glory, like sunlight reflected perfectly on still water.

• Jesus is the exact imprint of God’s being, like a seal pressed into wax, leaving a flawless impression.

This is not metaphorical language. It is theological clarity: Jesus reveals God without distortion.

When Jesus touches the leper, that is God’s heart. When Jesus forgives the sinner, that is God’s character. When Jesus weeps at Lazarus’ tomb, that is God’s compassion. When Jesus stretches out His arms on the cross, that is God’s love poured out.

“Sustaining all things by his powerful word”

The writer then lifts our gaze even higher:

Jesus is not only the revelation of God; He is the sustainer of creation.

The same Word that spoke galaxies into being now holds them in place.

The same Word that shaped the mountains now shapes our hearts.

The same Word that called light out of darkness now calls us out of despair.

Lesson: Christ is not only the Saviour of our souls; He is the One who holds the universe together.

“He has reconciled us to God…”

The passage moves from cosmic majesty to intimate mercy.

The One who sustains the stars also stoops to reconcile us. The One who is higher than the angels descends into our humanity. The One who sits at the right hand of Majesty first sits at tables with sinners.

This is the paradox of the Gospel: The highest becomes the lowest so that the lowest may be lifted high.

Story

There is a story told of a master sculptor who created a magnificent statue. People travelled from far and wide to admire it. One day, a child asked him, “How did you know what to carve?”

The sculptor replied, “I simply removed everything that was not the figure inside.”

This is what Hebrews is saying about Jesus.

In Him, nothing of God is missing.

Nothing of God is distorted.

Nothing of God is hidden.

Jesus is the perfect image, the exact imprint, of the God who has always been speaking.

What This Means for Us

Hebrews invites us to three responses:

Listen deeply - If God has spoken through the Son, then our first calling is to listen, not to the noise of the world, but to the voice of Christ.

Look closely - If Jesus is the exact imprint of God, then we look to Him to understand God’s character, God’s priorities, God’s heart.

Live boldly - If Christ sustains all things, then we can live with courage, knowing our lives rest in hands stronger than the universe.

John 1:1–12, 14

In the beginning was the Word…

There are passages in Scripture that feel less like sentences and more like the opening of a great symphony. John 1 is one of them. It begins not with a manger, not with shepherds or angels, but with eternity. John takes us back before Bethlehem, before creation, before time itself. He wants us to understand that the story of Jesus does not begin in a stable; it begins in the heart of God.

Christ Before All Things

John deliberately echoes Genesis: “In the beginning…”But instead of speaking of light and land and living creatures, he speaks of the Word, the divine Logos.

In Greek thought, Logos meant the rational principle that holds the universe together. In Hebrew thought, Word meant God’s creative, active, life-giving speech.

John brings these worlds together and says: This Word is not an idea. Not a force. Not a concept. This Word is a Person.

Christ is God’s self-expression; God speaking Himself into the world.

Lesson: Christianity does not begin with human searching for God. It begins with God speaking Himself toward us.

Christ the Creator

“Through the Word all things came into being…”

John wants us to see Jesus not only as Redeemer but as Creator.

• The hands that healed the blind shaped the stars.

• The voice that calmed the storm spoke the oceans into being.

• The heart that broke on the cross is the heart that beats at the centre of creation.

This means the One who enters our world is not a stranger to it.

He knows its beauty.

He knows its wounds.

He knows us.

Lesson: We are not accidents in a vast universe. We are creations of the Word who knows our name.

“In him was life, and the life was the light of all people…”

John shifts from creation to revelation.

Life.

Light.

Two of the most primal human needs.

John is saying: Christ does not merely give life; He is life. Christ does not merely shine light; He is light. And this light shines in the darkness, not above it, not away from it, but right in the middle of it.

“And the darkness has not overcome it.”

Not then.

Not now.

Not ever.

Story

There is a story told of a village that lived in a deep valley surrounded by mountains. For half the year, the sun never reached them. One winter, an old man climbed the highest peak and placed a great mirror at the summit. When the sun rose, the mirror caught the light and reflected it down into the valley. For the first time in months, the people saw sunlight dancing on their homes.

John the Baptist is like that mirror.

He is not the light.

But he reflects it.

He points toward it.

He prepares people to receive it.

This is one of the most heartbreaking lines in Scripture. The Creator walks into His creation and is unrecognised. The Light enters the world; and people prefer the shadows. Love comes close; and is rejected. But John does not end with rejection. He moves to invitation.

This is the turning point. Rejection is not the final word. Invitation is. “To all who received him… he gave power to become children of God.”

Not servants.

Not subjects.

Children.

This is the heart of the Gospel:

God does not simply forgive us; He adopts us.

God does not simply tolerate us; He welcomes us.

God does not simply save us; He makes us family.

“And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us…”

Here is the miracle at the centre of our faith. The eternal Word becomes a crying infant. The Creator becomes a creature. The Light steps into our darkness. The Glory wraps itself in human skin.

John says He “dwelt among us” literally, “pitched His tent” among us. God moves into the neighbourhood. God becomes touchable. God becomes interruptible. God becomes near.

And in Him we see “glory”, not the glory of power, but the glory of grace and truth.

Conclusion

Isaiah’s final declaration is breathtaking: “Your freedom has been won.”

Not will be won.

Not might be won.

It has been won.

The watchers shout because the victory is already accomplished, even before the city is rebuilt. God’s mercy and strength are already on the move.

So today, Isaiah invites us to stand like those watchers, eyes lifted, hearts open, ready to recognise God’s footsteps on the mountains of our own lives. He invites us to let our ruins sing, to welcome the God who returns with mercy, and to live as people whose freedom has already been secured.

Hebrews 1:1–4 is not just a theological statement; it is an invitation.

God has spoken.

God is speaking.

God will continue to speak, through the Son who reflects God’s glory, sustains creation, reconciles humanity, and reigns in majesty.

Our task is to listen, to trust, and to follow the One who is both the message and the messenger, both the imprint and the image, both the Word and the Way.

John 1 is not just a prologue. It is a promise.

The Word still speaks.

The Light still shines.

The darkness still cannot overcome it.

And the invitation still stands:

Receive Him.

Believe Him.

Walk in His light.

Become a child of God.