Homily Christmas Nativity: God has come among us

 Homily for the Nativity of the Lord 2025-26

Introduction

What exactly are we celebrating on Christmas Day?  Are we celebrating the birthday of Jesus, the way we celebrate our own birthdays?

My brothers and sisters, what we are celebrating today is a bold and joyful proclamation, that God has come among us.  That is what the Angel told the Shepherds in Luke’s gospel: “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.”

In no other religion has God ever come to be one of us, to live among us, and to remain with us always.  The Christmas event is not merely a beautiful story from long ago, and not simply a comforting idea. It is the central claim of our faith, that the eternal God, the Creator of heaven and earth, entered human history and became one of us.

Scripture and Theology

That is why, on this one feast, the Church gives us four different Masses with four different Gospel readings. We are right now celebrating the Vigil Mass of Christmas.  But why four different gospels?  It tells us that the mystery we celebrate today, the Incarnation, God becoming one of us, is so rich, so deep, that it cannot be captured by a single image or a single story.

The same thing happens when something important happens in a place.  Different people will tell the story differently. One remembers the fear, another the joy, another the struggle, another the hope. The stories do not compete; they complement one another. In the same way, the four Gospels tell the one Christmas mystery from different angles. And together they proclaim one truth: God has come among us. Let us see what they have to tell us.

Although the Gospel of Mark is not proclaimed at Christmas, it helps us understand the meaning of the feast. Mark tells us nothing about Bethlehem, shepherds, or angels. He begins his gospel with Jesus as an adult, moving quickly toward His public ministry, His suffering, and His death on the Cross.

In this way, Mark reminds us that Jesus was not born simply to be admired in a manger. He was born to save us. In this way, Christmas already points toward Good Friday and Easter. The wood of the manger points toward the wood of the Cross.  Yes, God came among us, but not as a visitor or observer. He came with a purpose—to give His life for us. From the very beginning, Christmas should be seen as an act of self-giving love.

At the Mass during the Day, we hear the Gospel of John telling us: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.” Like Mark, John does not give us any of those beautiful Christmas stories we know so well.  Instead, John lifts our eyes beyond the manger and invites us to see who this child truly is.

He is telling us that this baby is not only Mary’s and Joseph’s son. He is the eternal Word of God, through whom all things were made. The One lying in the manger is the One who created the heavens and the earth.

When John says that the Word “dwelt among us,” he uses an expression that means in our Ugandan situation would mean something like, “he built his simba” among us.  God chose to live with His people. He did not remain in heaven. He came to share our human condition from the inside.

At the Vigil Mass, the Gospel of Matthew is proclaimed. Matthew’s Christmas story is not peaceful or gentle. After giving us the genealogy of Jesus, he also tells us about Herod’s paranoia, the indifference of the people, the slaughter of the innocents, and the flight of the Holy Family into Egypt. 

Matthew reminds us of a difficult but consoling truth: God came among us in a world that was already broken. He did not wait for perfection before entering human history. He came while suffering and injustice were still present.

This should speak to us deeply. Emmanuel does not mean a life without struggle. It means God with us in the struggle—in poverty, in uncertainty, in fear, and in displacement. Sometimes when I visit sick people, they ask, has God abandoned me, and I assure them like Christmas assures us, that God is among us, even in our suffering.

At the Masses during the Night and at Dawn, we hear Luke’s Gospel—the story we know and love, the story of the angels appearing to the shepherds, of Glory filling the sky, of a child laid in a manger.

Luke shows us how God comes among us: humbly and gently. The first to hear the good news are shepherds— people very much like our own farmers, watchmen, and mothers who rise early to care for their families. God does not announce the birth of His Son to the powerful or the influential. He announces it to those who are attentive and humble.  Luke teaches us that God feels at home among ordinary people.

And so, in all these four gospels, we have one mystery, one message.  When we place all these four voices together, a beautiful picture emerges, because each Gospel answers a different question about the Christmas story.

·      Mark shows us why God came—to save us.

·      John shows us who came—the eternal Word made flesh.

·      Matthew shows us the kind of world He entered—a world of fear and suffering.

·      Luke shows us how He came close to us—with humility and joy.

My brothers and sisters, the Church does not only teach this mystery with words; she also teaches it with gestures. That is why, when we profess the Creed, we are asked to bow profoundly at the words, “and by the Holy Spirit was incarnate of the Virgin Mary, and became man.” And on Christmas Day and the Annunciation, the Church even asks us to kneel, as we shall do today. Why? Because this is the heart of our faith. We bow and we kneel not out of habit, but out of awe—that God humbled Himself to become one of us. Our bodies proclaim what our lips profess: God has come among us.

Christian Life

If God has truly come among us, then Christmas must shape how we live. This is where the second reading we hear at the Mass at Night helps us greatly. Saint Paul says to Titus and to us: “The grace of God has appeared, saving all and training us to reject godless ways and worldly desires and to live temperately, justly, and devoutly in this age.”  Notice what Paul says: grace does not only save us; it trains us. Emmanuel changes how we live.

Let me offer three concrete ways this Christmas should change us:

First, Christmas challenges what sometimes appears like a transactional or commercial use of religion. God came among us to form a relationship, not a business deal. And yet sometimes we are tempted to say: I pray so that God may bless me; I give so that God may protect me; I go to church so that God may give me what I want. But that is not the way to approach the Lord.

Think of human friendship. Who among us wants a friend whose friendship is based only one what we can give them? True friendship remains even when nothing can be gained. If that is true for human relationships, how much more for our relationship with God? The child in the manger cannot be negotiated with. He comes to give us of himself, in his time and according to his will.

Second, Christmas challenges our impatience and our lack of moderation. God could have entered the world as a powerful ruler, changing everything at once. Instead, He came as a baby—small, dependent, and vulnerable, born in a manger. He accepted the slow rhythm of human life. He grew, waited, learned, and matured. For thirty years, He lived quietly before He spoke publicly.  Think of the poor family of Joseph and Mary, through which he came into our world; at his presentation, they could only afford the offering of the poor.

In our time when many desire quick money, instant success, and fast results, Christmas reminds us of the wisdom of our ancestors: what truly lasts is built slowly. A harvest does not come the day after planting. A home is not built in one afternoon. They all require patience, discipline, and moderation. Emmanuel teaches us that rushing often leads to waste and regret, while patience leads to peace and stability. We must learn to live within our means; we must learn to accept the simple life, the kind of life our Blessed Lord led.

Third, Christmas calls us to holiness of speech. Jesus is the Word made flesh. Not only is he the Word, but he also used his Word to preach the good news.  But sometimes we use words to destroy others by lies, the sin of calumny.  Even when we are telling the truth, our words, our true words, can destroy others with truth, the sin of detraction.  We can find guidance in how to use our speech, from the four-way test of the Rotarians, which invites us to ask these questions about what we say: Is it true? Is it fair? Will it build goodwill and better friendships? Will it be beneficial to all concerned?

Matthew’s Gospel shows us how dangerous careless words can be. Fear, rumours, and suspicion led to suffering and violence. When we speak recklessly, we divide families, damage reputations, and poison the community.

Christmas reminds us that God has chosen to dwell among us. He lives in us and in our neighbour. To wound our neighbour with our tongue is to forget that Emmanuel lives among His people. 

Conclusion

My brothers and sisters, Christmas tells us one simple truth: God has come among us. Not to be used, not to be rushed, not to be spoken about carelessly—but to be welcomed, trusted, and loved.

I want to end with a quote from the English author Charles Dickens, who, in his famous short novel A Christmas Carol, described Christmas in this way:

“…a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time: the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow-passengers to the grave…”

As we come now to the table of the Eucharist, may those words recommit us to the true meaning of Christmas: that God has come among us so that His life may take shape in ours. Let Dickens’ vision of Christmas become our own—not only today, but every day—by recognizing Emmanuel in our brothers and sisters, fellow pilgrims on the journey to heaven.

And there, in heaven, we shall finally experience His presence fully: not in a manger, not on the Cross, not even in the tomb, but face to face—sharing, in the glory of the God who chose first to dwell among us, forever and ever.