Today, a Great Light has Dawned
Sermon preached by Dn. Jeff Smith on Sunday, January 11, 2026
In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
Today’s Gospel from Matthew tells us that when Jesus heard that John the Baptist had been arrested, He withdrew to a quiet place in Galilee and then began His public ministry with the proclamation, “Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand.” This is an important moment. The arrest of John marks a profound turning point. John’s voice, which had prepared the way, is now silenced, and now the Word of God Himself steps forward into the open light. St. John Chrysostom observed that Christ did not begin His preaching until John had been taken away, expressing both humility and divine timing: humility, in that Christ does not compete with the forerunner, and wisdom, in that God’s plan unfolds unexpectedly in the fullness of time. As we see over and over again in the Gospels, for Jesus and his Apostles, one door closes, and another door opens. This is how God works—through an interruption, through what seems like a loss, a deeper calling can emerge.
Notice that Jesus does not begin this phase of His ministry in Jerusalem, among the powerful and the elite. Instead, He goes north to Capernaum, back to his homeland, to the place where he first called his disciples near the sea in the regions of Zebulun and Naphtali—these are lands that know invasion, exile, and a mix of different kinds of people, far away from any sort of ethnic purity. Matthew is careful to say that this place is “Galilee of the Gentiles,” and he connects Jesus’ presence there with the words of the prophet Isaiah: “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light.” This moment matters. Christ chose to dwell with the marginal and obscure. Jesus centers his ministry in a place that knows defeat and dilution, a land considered suspect by Jerusalem. Here, the light of the Messiah shines where the darkness is deepest. This reveals something essential about God’s character: God moves toward need, not prestige; toward brokenness, not perfection.
The “great light” is the presence of Christ Himself. St. Gregory of Nyssa teaches that Christ is the true Light who illumines the whole human person, healing and applying compassion to what sin has touched. Light in Holy Scripture is always relational—it reveals, it warms, it guides, and it gives life. When Christ appears, darkness is dispelled. This is the light of repentance; it shines light on shame and allows for a reorientation—turning away from what diminishes us, what makes us less, and turning toward the One who offers light and life. That is why Jesus’ first public words echo the forerunner when he calls us to “Repent.” The Kingdom of God is at hand, breaking into our lives right now, whenever and wherever our hearts are open.
It is not an accident that we hear this Gospel in the depth of winter, when the days are short and it feels like the darkness will go on forever. Everything feels so dark right now. Every day, I leave for work in darkness and arrive home in darkness. I have become a nocturnal creature! But the Church is deeply attentive to these natural rhythms. In this season when the world feels cold, weary, and full of shadows, where warring armies threaten and surround, we proclaim that the light has dawned! This is not naïve optimism, but hope in the incarnation, that God became man, that he entered the darkness so that we might join him in the light. Christ enters the darkest season of our lives—when we find the times to be full of fear, when we feel the injustice, death, and grief of those around us—and He makes these moments into a time of divine encounter. Just as John’s arrest marked a painful turning point for Jesus, so too our moments of agonizing loss, disruption, and death can become moments of transformation if we allow Christ to enter.
Matthew draws on the prophets because he wants us to see that none of this is happening by accident. God is faithful to all generations. What Isaiah proclaimed to a people crushed in exile is now fulfilled in Christ’s quiet move to the borderland. Holy Scripture teaches us to read our own lives this way—not as a random sequence of events, but as a story that God is still writing. When something falls apart, the question is not only “Why?” but “Where is Christ moving us toward?” or “How is His divine light trying to break through in our time?”
Today, we learn that turning points are sacred. We are in a sacred moment, when Jesus withdraws into the quiet darkness after John’s arrest. God will begin His greatest work when we least expect it. His light will shine strongest when the darkness seems most entrenched. And the repentance he calls us to means stepping into the light. Just as Christ began His ministry in Galilee, so He desires to begin with us—in the overlooked and hidden places. Do not resist these moments, but meet them with trust, allowing the Light of the world to dwell where we live, here and now, and through us, to shine on the world. Thanks be to God.