There are only a few short hours remaining before we celebrate the birth of our Savior. We are about to witness the moment when the Word of God becomes flesh, entering this world as a vulnerable child, and embracing the full depth of our humanity to redeem and save us.

For the last seven days the Church has been praying the “O Antiphons,” which accompany Our Blessed Mother’s Magnificat in Evening Prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours, and the Gospel at daily Mass. As described by the USCCB, the O Antiphons express the ancient and eternal longing for the Divine Messiah, and “proclaim the coming Christ as the fulfillment not only of Old Testament hopes, but present ones as well.”

Today we pray “O Radiant Dawn, splendor of eternal light, sun of justice: come and shine on those who dwell in darkness and in the shadow of death.” We wait in darkness, yet the light is coming to dispel not only the physical darkness but the deeper, spiritual darkness that we all face in various forms, such the darkness of sin, despair, sorrow, or brokenness. Christ, the Sun of Justice, comes to illuminate our hearts and our lives, to raise us from the shadows of death and lead us into the light of eternal life.

This truth was something I experienced profoundly around this time in 2007. At that time, I was living a very “secular life,” adrift in the practice of my faith, but enjoying the perks of my mid-20s, with a good job, good money, stability, independence, and a busy social life. I was on a path that seemed secure but lacked deeper meaning, oscillating between being fully engaged and just as quickly sinking into a kind of quiet resignation. It felt like this was how life would be, a repetitive cycle of highs and lows, with no real change.

Little did I know that in the days and hours leading up to Christmas, I was about to experience a breakthrough. I had recently gone to confession for the first time in years, with an elderly Franciscan priest at St. Anthony’s Shrine in Boston. That encounter ignited something inside me, a deep awareness of my brokenness but also the hope of God's unrelenting love. The seeds of a new beginning were planted, thereby setting me on a path of conversion, eventually discerning a vocation to the priesthood, and enkindling within me a desire to give my heart, my hopes, and even my fears over to God.

This came to mind while hearing the story of Zechariah recounted in today’s Gospel. Unlike me in my mid-twenties, Zechariah was in the twilight of his life, a faithful servant of God, a righteous man with a righteous wife of many years. But as faithful and devout as Zechariah was, he had lost hope that his prayers would be answered. When he was visited by the angel and told that he and Elizabeth would bear a son, he doubted. Yet, when the miraculous occurred and his son was born, Zechariah’s silence was broken, and until this very day, the Church begins Her daily morning prayer with Zechariah’s hymn of praise and gratitude for God’s saving work.

Like Zechariah, we are tempted at times to doubt God can work in our lives, bring light into our darkness, heal our wounds or provide us with the grace we need. But today’s Gospel reminds us that God can – and does – intervene in our lives in unexpected ways. Our celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ in history, which for many of us will begin in just a few hours, is an opportunity for us to welcome Christ anew into our hearts, into our homes, and into our world.

As I realized in that encounter in the confessional just before Christmas in 2007, God is still working in our lives. We don’t need to be perfect—just open. The miracle of a new beginning is unfolding, and it is never too late for us to respond to God’s invitation to welcome the light into the darkness. Whether we are praying for healing, clarity, or simply the strength to trust God amidst the complexity and the messiness of our lives. Christ, who is Emmanuel, God with us, is coming. It is a new beginning for all of us, if we are open to it.

May the Radiant Dawn shine brightly in your life today and always. Let the miracle of Christ’s birth transform your heart, just as it did mine all those years ago, and may it lead you to a deeper, more abiding relationship with God who loves you beyond measure, and who’s plan for your life, and the salvation of the world, continues to unfold.