Sunday Homily – O Oriens “The Dawn from on High Has Visited Us”

In these final days of Advent, the Church changes how she speaks.
She begins to call Christ by name.

Each evening she cries out with the great O Antiphons,
and today her voice rises with particular hope:

O Oriens — O Rising Sun. Splendour of eternal light.
Come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death.

That prayer is not poetry alone.
It is the meaning of today’s readings.

The Bible never pretends darkness is imaginary.

Ahaz is afraid.
Joseph is confused.
The world into which Christ comes is anxious, uncertain, and fragile.

Isaiah speaks to a king who is cornered by fear.
Joseph faces a future he did not plan.
Paul writes to a world longing for meaning and direction.

Advent does not deny this darkness.
It names it.

But Advent also insists on something more important: darkness is not final.

In Isaiah, God offers Ahaz a sign.

Ahaz refuses.
He sounds religious, but he is afraid of losing control.

So God gives the sign anyway: “The virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and shall name him Emmanuel.”

Notice this carefully.

The sign is not something Ahaz achieves.
It is something God gives.

Light does not rise because we deserve it.
It rises because God is faithful.

That is the first meaning of O Oriens:
salvation comes as gift, not reward.

Matthew shows us how that light enters the world.

Not through spectacle.
Not through power.

But through Joseph’s obedience.

Joseph is in the dark.
He does not understand everything.
But he listens.

“Do not be afraid.”

That sentence is always spoken at the edge of salvation.

Joseph takes Mary into his home.
He names the child Jesus — “because He will save His people from their sins.”

That is the sunrise.

Not the absence of difficulty,
but the presence of God.

St Paul helps us see what this light does.

He speaks of the obedience of faith.

Faith is not simply seeing the light.
It is walking by it.

The Rising Sun does not merely brighten the world;
He re-orders it.

Christ shines light on truth, on sin, on mercy, on hope.

And that light demands a response.

The Church waits until now to pray O Oriens
because we are close enough to Christmas to glimpse the dawn.

Night has not fully ended.
But morning has begun.

The Church teaches us to rejoice before everything is resolved —
because Christ is already present.

That is deep Christian joy.

Not optimism.
Not denial.
But confidence.

Many people live today in half-light.

Enough faith to hope.
Enough doubt to hesitate.
Enough belief to admire Christ.
Enough fear to avoid surrender.

O Oriens speaks directly into that place.

Christ does not wait for full clarity.
He rises while it is still dark.

He comes to those who sit in shadow — not to condemn, but to lead.

But light only helps if we let it guide us.

Today the Church lifts her eyes and prays:

O Rising Sun, come.

Shine on what is hidden.
Warm what is cold.
Guide what is lost.

The world may still feel dark.
Our lives may still feel unfinished.

But the dawn has come.

Emmanuel is with us.
Jesus is born to save.
And the light no darkness can overcome
has already risen.