Discerning the Light

In today’s Gospel, Matthew deliberately situates the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry in a very particular place: “The land of Zebulun and the land of Naphtali… Galilee of the Gentiles.” This is not just geography. There is a meaning: Galilee was not Jerusalem. It was distant from the Temple, religiously mixed, politically suspect, and culturally porous. It lay along trade routes on“the way to the sea” where ideas, goods, and beliefs constantly crossed paths. For many in Judea, Galilee represented religious compromise and spiritual danger. And yet, Matthew tells us, this is precisely where the light appears.

Isaiah’s prophecy is fulfilled not in the center of religious certainty, but on the margins among those who “sat in darkness,” among people accustomed to sorting truth from error, faith from superstition, hope from disappointment. Jesus does not wait for people to come to the light; he enters the shadows and shines there. And that context matters when we hear the first line of Jesus’ preaching: “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.”

Repentance is an invitation to reorient oneself toward the light and turn away from whatever false illuminations have been guiding one’s steps.

That brings us naturally to the First Letter of John, which offers a sober warning to precisely the kind of community living in a “Galilee of the Gentiles” world: “…do not trust every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they belong to God.” John is writing to believers who are not persecuted from outside so much as confused from within. False teachers claim inspiration, insight, even spiritual authority. Not every voice that speaks confidently speaks from God. Not every enthusiasm is born of the Spirit. Notice John’s test is not mystical or emotional. It is profoundly Christological and practical. Does this spirit confess Jesus Christ come in the flesh? Does it lead to obedience, love, and fidelity to what has been handed on? In other words, does this spirit draw us into the light — or does it merely glitter in the dark?

This is where the two readings meet. Light clarifies, but it also exposes. The Light of Christ reveals competing claims, rival voices, and false paths. In our day we live amid many spirits coming from many directions. Think about all the self-help books, podcasts, social media and more – they are a modern form of “spirits” but are they of Christ. 

But even in the life of everyday practicing Catholics. Our faith has the same stream of advice from books, videos, social media, podcasts and more. People ask me about the sources all the time. Some are amazing and help shine the light of Christ onto the path we are walking. Others, well… It seems to me they broadcast a spirit of fear masquerading as prudence, anger disguised as righteousness, or their view presented as authenticity. Intense and loud do not equate to truth or authority. Neither does novelty offer genuine insight. Discernment is needed

John reminds us that discernment is not optional. It is a daily discipline of faith. And Matthew shows us that discernment begins by staying close to Jesus, the Light Himself, who teaches, heals, and proclaims the Kingdom not from a distance, but by walking among the people right there in the messiness of life. Jesus entered the ordinary and human in order to redeem it.

What’s the good word: remain in the light, but do not be naïve. Be open to the Spirit, but not uncritical. Follow Jesus into Galilee that is a real and complex life. Test what you hear. Does it speak with the Church? True light does not confuse or divide. It lights the way to peace in Christ.


Image credit: Pexels, CC-0

More on the Asia-Pacific War

Last year (2025) I explored World War II in the Pacific in order to consider the moral framework of the war considering the counter-factual that no atomic weaponry was available. If you are interested in the series you can read (or review) it here. In the course of reading and research I came across lots of other interesting information. Some was related to specific campaigns, others to strategy, and others still to a range of topics large and small. But there were also questions.

Some of the questions I received most often was allocating some share of the blame for U.S. involvement in the already on-going Asia-Pacific War by its support and aid to China, freezing of Japanese financial assets, the oil embargo of August 1941 or negotiating in less-than-good faith. In some cases, the question was framed to imply that the U.S. wanted the Japanese to initiate military action to give the United States a reason to enter the war in Europe.

Starting tomorrow, a related series begins that explores the currents and eddies of history that brought Japan its wars with China (1894-1895 and 1937-1945), with Russia (1904-1905), the annexation of Korea, Manchuria and French Indochina, and to wider war in the Pacific that stretched from Hawaii to Australia and nations in between, notably the Philippines, Malay, Borneo and the Dutch East Indies.

Perhaps the question that all of this raises is this: how did Japan think it could win such a war? Did its strategic and tactical planning understand the classic Clausewitz dilemma: a nation can be easy to conquer but extremely difficult to hold. Was Japan able to hold on to their gains and fight a war of attrition? We know the answer to the last question: no. But did Japan have other options it believed were viable?

Stay tuned.

The Ministry of John The Baptist

This coming Sunday we celebrate the Baptism of the Lord. The story of Jesus in the larger context of Matthew 3:1–4:16 is bracketed by John the Baptist’s ministry. 

  • In those days John the Baptist appeared, preaching in the desert of Judea (and) saying, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand!” (3:1-2).  
  • From that time on, Jesus began to preach and say, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.” (4:17)

John prepared the way for Jesus and his ministry. Where John’s proclamation is that the kingdom is “right around the corner,” Jesus announces that the kingdom is here in the person of the Messiah, the Son of God.  The “inauguration” of the in-breaking of the kingdom (kairos) into Time (chromos) occurs at the baptism of Jesus which serves as the occasion for the coming of the Spirit and the Father’s approval of his beloved son. 

And all of this is then immediately tested by Satan (4:1) in the periscope that follows our text. There Matthew continues to show Jesus as the fulfillment of the Covenant – where Israel failed in the dessert, giving into temptation, Jesus is obedient and faithful to his Father.  Tested, Jesus then becomes the “new Moses” announcing far more than the promised land – announcing the presence of the Kingdom of God.

That Jesus was baptized by John is undoubtedly a historical fact. According to the Gospel accounts, Jesus received from John a baptism connected with the forgiveness of sins. It is inconceivable that the early Christians, who held Jesus in such high esteem, would have invented a story in which Jesus received something from John and that this reception would involve the baptism of repentance.

Matthew uses this scene to bring the adult Jesus onto the narrative stage for the first time, to present him and his mission to the reader in terms of his own Christology.  By bringing Jesus into the on-going story of John (3:1-12) Matthew preserves the continuity of salvation history from the OT through John to Jesus. It is clear that the continuity is at the initiative of Jesus.

The gospel text naturally divides into two parts: (1) the discussion that precedes the baptism, and (2) the scene following the baptism when he came up from the water (v.16).  Within the first division there is one question which begs to be answered – why did Jesus receive the baptism of John?  The ancillary context is “….Jesus had no sin, and so had no need for baptism – did he?”  Within the second division is the more basic question – “What does all that happened – the voice from heaven, the coming of the Spirit – what does it mean?”


Image credit: The Baptism of Christ, Juan Fernández de Navarrete, “El Mudo” | Museo del Prado, Madrid | Wikimedia Commons | PD-US