Christmas Day Homily – St John Bosco (10am) “The Word Became Flesh”

Christmas Day does not take us to Bethlehem.
It takes us deeper.

Last night we stood at the manger.
This morning the Church lifts our eyes to eternity.

And she tells us, without hesitation:

“The Word became flesh and lived among us.”

That sentence is the heart of Christmas.

Isaiah begins with joy and movement: “How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the one who brings good news.”

This is news that must be announced.

Why?

Because God reigns. Because salvation has been seen.
Because the Lord has bared His holy arm before the nations.

Isaiah is not describing a private comfort.
He is announcing a public victory.

Christmas is not God hiding Himself.
It is God making Himself known.

The letter to the Hebrews tells us something decisive: “In the past God spoke in many and various ways… but in these last days He has spoken to us by a Son.”

God has not sent another message.
He has not sent another prophet.

He has sent Himself.

The Son is not a messenger standing at a distance.
He is the radiance of God’s glory.
The exact imprint of God’s being.

To look at Christ is to see what God is like.

Then John takes us further still.

Before Mary.
Before Joseph.
Before the shepherds.

There is the Word.

The Word was with God.
The Word was God.

This child has no beginning.
He is not created.
He is eternal.

And yet — this Word becomes flesh.

God does not merely visit humanity. He joins it.

He does not shout from heaven. He speaks in a human voice.

John says something very simple and very profound: “He lived among us.”

Literally: He pitched His tent among us.

God no longer dwells in a distant sanctuary.
He lives in the middle of human life.

In work and rest.
In joy and suffering.
In birth and death.

Christmas tells us this clearly:

God is not far away.
God is not indifferent.
God is with us.

John is honest.

Not everyone recognises Him.
Not everyone welcomes Him.

But then comes the promise: “To those who did accept Him,
He gave power to become children of God.”

This is the real gift of Christmas.

Not comfort alone.
Not nostalgia.

But adoption.

Through Christ, we are drawn into God’s own life.

The eternal Son comes so that we might share His place.

At Christmas Day Mass, the Church is not asking us to feel something.

She is asking us to believe something.

That God has spoken.
That God has come close.
That God has entered our history
to lift us into His life.

The Word became flesh — not just to be admired, but to be received.

And here, at this altar,
that same Word gives Himself to us again.

So today we rejoice openly.

Not because life is perfect. Not because problems disappear.

But because God has come.

The Word has taken flesh.
The light shines in the darkness.
And grace and truth have entered the world.

This is why Isaiah says,
“Break into songs of joy.”

This is why the Church dares to say:

Today is born for us a Saviour —
Christ the Lord.