Fr. Jo's Reflection for the 3rd Sunday in Ordinary Time, Year A, January 25, 2026
From the theme of “Manifestation to the Gentiles” on the Epiphany of the Lord, to last Sunday’s theme of the “Lamb of God who takes away sins,” we’re greeted on this 3rd Sunday with the theme of “light that overpowers darkness.” The arrest of John the Baptist is used by Matthew to introduce this theme of darkness begging for the light, which only Christ can bring. Christ is the true light to all nations. He became the light for the forgotten towns of Naphtali and Zebulun. These were called the “Lost Tribes of Israel” because they were decimated by the Assyrians in 722 BC, but later became influential because Christ the true Light of the World began His ministry there and was called “Jesus of Nazareth.” Nazareth was north of the Sea of Galilee. In the first reading and the gospel, both Isaiah and Matthew referred to this city by their original names—Naphtali and Zebulun. These names would conjure a feeling of dread in many who would remember nothing but the assault by the Assyrians. Yet, Matthew, quoting Isaiah, declares the Good News that their darkness has been overpowered by the light of Christ.
In the summer of 2007, it was reported that while a group of tourists were inside the Arch of St. Louis, the lights suddenly went out. Among those trapped in the dark were two children, an eight-year-old boy and her five-year-old sister. It was a very scary situation, especially for the kids. As the little girl began to cry, her eight-year-old brother was heard telling his sister, “Don’t worry, Amy! There’s a man around who knows how to turn the lights on again.” As he said this, the lights came back.
Each of us needs a voice that promises hope in our darkness. Perhaps our own darkness is fear, sickness, some hurt or grudge we refuse to let go of, unforgiveness or a pattern of unhealthy behavior to which we’re sliding and conjuring hard substances and excuses with which to numb our brain and conscience. Our only help might be a thorough illumination of our darkness, a shining of light to our darkest nights and secrets so they can become cauterized and healed. A question that each of us should direct to no other than ourselves is: “Where in my life do I need some shining of the light of Christ?”
Certainly, we have areas of our lives that need some illumination, without which we may remain in our darkness and confusion. But the light of Christ brings clarity, love, and healing. Gradually, we’ll realize that we have more peace, more joy, more wholeness, and have become more lightsome and able to fix other minor dark spots both in our lives and those of our loved ones. If we honestly seek Him with all our heart, we’ll realize that He is that man around the “arch of our soul” who knows how to turn on the light and banish our fears.
St. John Henry Newman was someone who knew something about this light, understood it, and sought it himself. During the period when every long-distance travel was by boat, Newman was returning from Italy to his native England when his boat was detained in Sicily. There, he fell ill and nearly died. During his convalescence, he penned down a poem that has become a popular hymn for night prayer, describing his search for the light of Christ:
Lead kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; lead Thou me on
The night is dark and I am far from home; lead Thou me on
Keep thou my feet, I do not ask to see; the distant scene, one step enough for me.
As we enter the week of Prayer for Christian Unity in this cold deadness of winter, we pray for the light of Christ, which alone would lead us out of the ghettos of isolation to the bond of love and unity. St. Paul reprimands us for creating and holding on to factions and claiming that we understand and possess Jesus more than others. After 500+ years of division, all Christian people must let the light of Christ destroy our darkness of division.
Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo

