The Solemnity of the Nativity, Year A
Readings: Isaiah 52:7–10; Psalm 97(98):1–6; Hebrews 1:1–6; John 1:1–18
25 December 2025
“The Word was made flesh, he lived among us, and we saw his glory.” John 1:14
I’ve heard it said that the status quo is Latin for “the mess we find ourselves in”. No wonder, then, that we celebrate people who have the courage to challenge the status quo and envision something different.
Jesus’ birth is something radically new. It is good news, worthy of a new song. It is the Father speaking to us in a radically new way, revealing his glory and his heart. Yet, Jesus does not come to us in spite of the mess we find ourselves in, but rather through it. No one expected to find the Messiah lying in a feeding trough—no one, that is, except the shepherds who trusted that this was the very sign by which they could recognise him.
We come to Christmas Day full of expectations, longing for something new. But sometimes life seems even more messy at the end of Christmas Day than it did at the beginning—and I’m not just referring to the wrapping paper!
Today, may we have the courage to see our mess with the eyes of faith, recognising it as a sign of Emmanuel, God with us. And may we be filled with the peace that the world cannot give, the peace of knowing that Jesus came to do something radically new—not to replace us, but to redeem us.
Today, Jesus, let all the ends of the earth and all the corners of my heart see the saving power of God. Amen.
Sr Susanna Edmunds OP
Artwork Spotlight
The Annunciation to the Shepherds by Nicolaes Pietersz Berchem (1620–1683)
The Annunciation to the Shepherds (1656). Oil on canvas, 107cm x 144cm. Bristol Museum & Art Gallery, UK. © Bristol Museums, Galleries & Archives / Purchased, 1954. / Bridgeman Images.
At midnight Mass, we hear the prophet Isaiah proclaim: “The people that walked in darkness have seen a great light” (Is 9:1). We could be excused for thinking that he was referring only to those living in the darkness of paganism and unbelief. But in recent years, we’ve been reminded of something we should never forget—the darkness is in ourselves. It’s painful to have to acknowledge our darkness, but it’s salutary.
“Salutary” comes from the Latin word salus meaning salvation. The great light we celebrate at Christmas is a light which has shone into our darkness. It is the “kindness and love of God our Saviour” as St Paul tells us in the second reading to Titus: “God was not rewarding us for our fidelity. It was for no reason except his own compassion that he saved us” (Tt 3:5). It is God’s forgiveness freely given to us— not to the deserving, but to the undeserving sinners, and especially to those whom society, and we, reject, those who sit in darkness.
St Luke, whose Gospel is often called the “Gospel of the Poor”, had an eye for such people. In his telling of the Christmas story, which we presume he received from the lips of Our Lady herself (“As for Mary, she treasured all these things in her heart” [Lk 2:19]), Luke highlights the shepherds. We hear of them in both the midnight and dawn Masses.
In fact, the two Gospel readings follow each other. “In the countryside close by there were shepherds who lived in the fields and took it in turns to watch their flocks during the night” (Lk 2:8).
Now, shepherds were nothing like the sanitised figures who grace our Christmas cards. They were rough men who lived “rough”. That might not worry us, but it certainly worried the opinion-makers of the time, who regarded shepherds as the “dregs” of society. The Pharisees lumped them with “sinners”, for there was no way they could observe all the demands of the Law. Working seven days a week precluded them from keeping the Sabbath.
Yet, it is these very outcasts who are being told by heaven: “Do not be afraid.… A Saviour has been born to you” (Lk 2:10–11). The great light of God’s compassion surrounded men who were regarded, and perhaps regarded themselves, as condemned to darkness. They are invited in from the dark to join the Holy Family.
This light “shines in the dark” St John tells us in the Mass of Christmas Day, and it is a light “that darkness could not overpower” (Jn 1:5). This is “the good tidings of great joy” that we hear this season, that no matter how deep and oppressive our darkness, the light of God’s saving compassion is brighter and stronger.
It is true we human beings do terrible things to each other—listen to, or read, the daily news. We neglect, we hurt, we betray, we exploit each other. We infect others with our darkness, thus deepening our own. But again, quoting St John, a light shines in our darkness and the darkness cannot overthrow it. “There was darkness over the whole land,” Mark tells us during Jesus’ crucifixion (Mk 15:33), but it was followed by the glory of the Resurrection. “The women went to the tomb when the sun had risen” (Mk 16:2).
If we accept the light—God’s healing forgiveness— then St John promises that we will be given the “power to become children of God” (Jn 1:12). All are invited to the light, and in that light, we can find the courage to face our sinfulness, our darkness, without fear, and even with the beginning of hope.
Nicolaes Pietersz Berchem was a prominent Dutch painter, active mainly in Haarlem and Amsterdam, renowned for his pastoral landscapes. Most of his works were secular, but occasionally he painted religious subjects, hence his Annunciation to the Shepherds in 1656.
Berchem uses light to dramatic effect—the glowing angels are contrasted with the darkness of earth, emphasising the inbreaking of Divine Light into a fallen world. “The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (Is 9:1). The shepherds show various reactions—fear, awe, contemplation. They mirror humanity before the mystery of the Incarnation. On the right, a humble shelter reminds us of the simplicity of the shepherds’ life.
The painting includes an array of animals—sheep, cattle, goats and dogs. The flock of sheep can be read as a symbol of humanity under Christ’s care. He would later describe himself as the Good Shepherd. How symbolic that he would reveal himself first to shepherds.
Berchem may well have visited Italy. His paintings certainly display an Italian influence.
Mons Graham Schmitzer
Sr Susanna Edmunds OP
Sr Susanna Edmunds OP grew up in the Diocese of Broken Bay where she received a love for Scripture and evangelisation. In 2010, she joined the Dominican Sisters of St Cecilia, making her final profession in 2017. She currently teaches high school religion and serves as the dean of studies at the Seminary of the Good Shepherd, Homebush.
Monsignor Graham Schmitzer
Monsignor Graham Schmitzer is a retired parish priest. He was ordained in 1969 and served in many parishes in the Diocese of Wollongong. He was chancellor and secretary to Bishop William Murray for 13 years. Prior to ordination, he worked for the Department of Attorney General and Justice before entering St Columba’s College in 1962. He enjoys travelling and visiting major European art galleries.
With thanks to the Diocese of Wollongong, who have supplied this reflection from their publication, The Promise: Advent and Christmas Daily Reflections 2025. Reproduced with permission.
