Introduction
The anticipation of Advent is complete — our waiting is over!
Our Christmas celebration unfolds through four distinct liturgies, each progressing from anticipation to revelation, mirroring the unfolding story of Christ’s Nativity:
- The Vigil Mass invites us to a moment of joyful expectation, reflecting on the Old Testament prophecies that foretold the coming of the Messiah. It sets the stage for the glorious events we commemorate throughout Christmas.
- The Midnight Mass, known as the “Mass of the Angels,” transitions us from anticipation to jubilation. The Gospel recounts the moment when the angels proclaimed the Savior’s birth to the shepherds, and the Gloria — sung for the first time since Advent began — resounds with their hymn of joy: Glory to God in the highest!
- The Mass at Dawn, or “The Shepherds’ Mass,” focuses on the humble yet extraordinary response of the shepherds, the first witnesses of the Savior’s birth. Themes of light and eager adoration mirror their journey to the manger, inviting us to approach the altar with the same awe and gratitude.
- The Mass During the Day brings us to the theological heart of Christmas, drawing on the majestic prologue of the Gospel of John. It emphasizes Christ as the eternal Word made flesh, the light of salvation, and the profound manifestation of God’s love for humanity.
1st Reading – Isaiah 62:1-5
For Zion’s sake I will not be silent,
for Jerusalem’s sake I will not be quiet,
until her vindication shines forth like the dawn
and her victory like a burning torch.
Nations shall behold your vindication,
and all the kings your glory;
you shall be called by a new name
pronounced by the mouth of the LORD.
You shall be a glorious crown in the hand of the LORD,
a royal diadem held by your God.
No more shall people call you “Forsaken,”
or your land “Desolate,”
but you shall be called “My Delight,”
and your land “Espoused.”
For the LORD delights in you
and makes your land his spouse.
As a young man marries a virgin,
your Builder shall marry you;
and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride
so shall your God rejoice in you.
Today’s first reading is an oracle of salvation. Isaiah addresses Israel, announcing a reversal of fortune after many years of exile in Babylon. He points to the glorious future that is in store for the faithful in Zion, the new Jerusalem.
For Zion’s sake I will not be silent, for Jerusalem’s sake I will not be quiet,
In Scripture, “Zion” and “Jerusalem” are closely related terms that are sometimes used interchangeably, but they carry nuanced distinctions:
- “Zion” originally referred to the hill where David established his capital, later symbolizing God’s dwelling place and his covenant people.
- “Jerusalem” refers to the physical city, its inhabitants, and its role as the center of worship and governance.
Isaiah’s pairing of these names intensifies the promise: God’s commitment is both spiritual and historical, both to His people and to their city.
until her vindication shines forth like the dawn and her victory like a burning torch.
God will not rest until Israel’s vindication is visible to all.
The imagery of dawn and torch conveys salvation as light breaking into darkness. This echoes Isaiah 58:8 and 60:1-3, where light symbolizes God’s glory shining through his people for the nations to see.
Nations shall behold your vindication, and all kings your glory;
The transformation of Zion will be so extraordinary that it will command the attention of all nations and rulers.
Israel’s restoration is not private — it is meant to be a witness to the world.
you shall be called by a new name pronounced by the mouth of the LORD.
In Scripture, name changes mark a new destiny: Abram becomes Abraham (Genesis 17:5), Jacob becomes Israel (Genesis 32:28), Simon becomes Peter (Matthew 16:18).
Here, the new name is spoken directly by God, underscoring its sacredness and the intimacy of the covenant relationship.
You shall be a glorious crown in the hand of the LORD, a royal diadem held by your God.
Israel is depicted as a crown and diadem, symbols of exalted status. God does not wear this crown — he holds it. The image conveys possession, protection, and honor.
Israel’s exalted status is not self-glory but glory from being in God’s hand — a relational exaltation, not autonomous power.
No more shall men call you “Forsaken,” or your land “Desolate,” but you shall be called “My Delight,” and your land “Espoused.”
Isaiah dramatizes Israel’s journey from exile to restoration through four names drawn from the imagery of marriage:
“Forsaken” (Azubah) conveys abandonment and the painful sense of being left behind. Israel, during exile, felt as though God had withdrawn his presence, leaving them exposed and forgotten.
Alongside this is “Desolate” (Shĕmamah), a name that evokes ruin and barrenness. This was not a mere metaphor — the land of Judah had been devastated when the Babylonians sacked Jerusalem. The temple was destroyed, cities were burned, fields lay waste, and the population was carried off into exile. Shĕmamah captures that stark reality of emptiness and ruin, the visible sign of covenant brokenness.
Into this bleakness come two new names: Hephzibah and Beulah. Hephzibah means “My delight is in her,” and it signals a profound reversal. No longer abandoned, Israel is now cherished, the object of divine joy and affection. It is the language of intimacy, as a bridegroom delights in his bride.
Then comes Beulah, meaning “Married.” This doesn’t mean the land itself is mystically joined to God, but that it is no longer barren. It is inhabited, fruitful, and secure, restored to its people under God’s covenant blessing.
Although his chosen people violated their covenant relationship with God, he has not forgotten his promises to them. God is always faithful.
For the LORD delights in you, and makes your land his spouse. As a young man marries a virgin, your Builder shall marry you; and as a bridegroom rejoices in his bride so shall your God rejoice in you.
The metaphor of marriage is perhaps one of the best ways of portraying the deep, joyful, and unbreakable bond that God has with us and the depths of intimacy with us that he desires.
Referring to God as “Builder” highlights his role as Creator and Restorer — the one who rebuilds ruined cities and reestablishes his covenant.
The imagery of marriage profoundly shapes our understanding of the entire passage: God seems willing to do almost anything to reestablish the covenant bond that the people have broken, and he will not rest until reconciliation is accomplished.
Since the 6th century, Christian tradition has used this poem in the liturgy of Christmas, reading it typologically: the birth of Christ brings about the union of God and humanity, a joy surpassing even the deepest spousal bond.
2nd Reading – Acts 13:16-17, 22-25
When Paul reached Antioch in Pisidia and entered the synagogue,
he stood up, motioned with his hand, and said,
“Fellow Israelites and you others who are God-fearing, listen.
The God of this people Israel chose our ancestors
and exalted the people during their sojourn in the
land of Egypt.
With uplifted arm he led them out of it.
Then he removed Saul and raised up David as king;
of him he testified,
‘I have found David, son of Jesse, a man after my own heart;
he will carry out my every wish.’
From this man’s descendants God, according to his promise,
has brought to Israel a savior, Jesus.
John heralded his coming by proclaiming a baptism of repentance
to all the people of Israel;
and as John was completing his course, he would say,
‘What do you suppose that I am? I am not he.
Behold, one is coming after me;
I am not worthy to unfasten the sandals of his feet.’”
Our second reading comes from Paul’s sermon in the synagogue at Antioch in Pisidia during his first missionary journey. This is the first of several speeches of Saint Paul to Jews proclaiming that the Christian Church is the logical development to Pharisaic Judaism (see also Acts 24:10-21; 26:2-23).
It is a fitting selection for the Christmas Vigil Mass because it connects the historical narrative of salvation history with the fulfillment of God’s promises in Jesus Christ.
When Paul reached Antioch in Pisidia and entered the synagogue,
he stood up, motioned with his hand, and said, “Fellow Israelites and you others who are God-fearing, listen.
Paul’s audience includes two groups:
- Jewish worshippers (“fellow Israelites”), rooted in covenant identity
- Gentile sympathizers (“God-fearing”), who admired Judaism and attended synagogue but had not fully embraced Mosaic law, such as circumcision or dietary regulations
By addressing both groups, Paul signals that his message is inclusive, extending beyond ethnic Israel to all who seek the God of Israel.
The God of this people Israel chose our ancestors and exalted the people during their sojourn in the land of Egypt. With uplifted arm he led them out of it.
Paul begins with Israel’s foundational story. Their identity rests not on merit but on God’s sovereign choice, recalling the Abrahamic covenant (Genesis 12:1-3).
The phrase “uplifted arm” evokes God’s mighty power in the Exodus (Exodus 6:6), the defining act of deliverance that shaped Israel’s faith and national identity.
Then he removed Saul and raised up David as their king; of him he testified, ‘I have found David, son of Jesse, a man after my own heart; he will carry out my every wish.’
Paul continues his survey of Israel’s history, highlighting God’s choice of David. The quotation blends 1 Samuel 13:14 with Psalm 89:20 (or 89:21 in some translations).
David is central because of the Davidic Covenant (2 Samuel 7:12-16), in which God promised to establish David’s dynasty as the line of the Messiah. This covenant shaped Jewish expectations of a future king who would embody God’s rule.
From this man’s descendants God, according to his promise, has brought to Israel a savior, Jesus.
This is the crux of Paul’s speech, the theme of his entire message: He asserts that Jesus is the culmination of God’s promises in the Davidic Covenant.
John heralded his coming by proclaiming a baptism of repentance to all the people of Israel;
Paul situates Jesus within the prophetic preparation of John the Baptist. John’s ministry emphasized repentance, preparing hearts to receive the Messiah.
and as John was completing his course, he would say, ‘What do you suppose that I am? I am not he. Behold, one is coming after me; I am not worthy to unfasten the sandals of his feet.’”
Paul quotes John’s testimony, which echoes Luke 3:16-17, John 1:19, and John 1:27. John denies being the Messiah and acknowledges Jesus’ superiority, reinforcing that Jesus alone is the promised Savior.
Paul’s overall message is clear and unmistakable: God chose Israel, raised up David, promised a Messiah, and fulfilled that promise in Jesus.
The Church proclaims this reading at the Christmas Vigil because it reveals Christ as the culmination of God’s covenantal plan. The birth of Jesus marks the arrival of the long-awaited Messiah — not a random event, but the climax of centuries of divine preparation.
Gospel – Matthew 1:1-25
The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ,
the son of David, the son of Abraham.
Abraham became the father of Isaac,
Isaac the father of Jacob,
Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers.
Judah became the father of Perez and Zerah,
whose mother was Tamar.
Perez became the father of Hezron,
Hezron the father of Ram,
Ram the father of Amminadab.
Amminadab became the father of Nahshon,
Nahshon the father of Salmon,
Salmon the father of Boaz,
whose mother was Rahab.
Boaz became the father of Obed,
whose mother was Ruth.
Obed became the father of Jesse,
Jesse the father of David the king.
David became the father of Solomon,
whose mother had been the wife of Uriah.
Solomon became the father of Rehoboam,
Rehoboam the father of Abijah,
Abijah the father of Asaph.
Asaph became the father of Jehoshaphat,
Jehoshaphat the father of Joram,
Joram the father of Uzziah.
Uzziah became the father of Jotham,
Jotham the father of Ahaz,
Ahaz the father of Hezekiah.
Hezekiah became the father of Manasseh,
Manasseh the father of Amos,
Amos the father of Josiah.
Josiah became the father of Jechoniah and his brothers
at the time of the Babylonian exile.
After the Babylonian exile,
Jechoniah became the father of Shealtiel,
Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel,
Zerubbabel the father of Abiud.
Abiud became the father of Eliakim,
Eliakim the father of Azor,
Azor the father of Zadok.
Zadok became the father of Achim,
Achim the father of Eliud,
Eliud the father of Eleazar.
Eleazar became the father of Matthan,
Matthan the father of Jacob,
Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary.
Of her was born Jesus who is called the Christ.
Thus the total number of generations
from Abraham to David
is fourteen generations;
from David to the Babylonian exile,
fourteen generations;
from the Babylonian exile to the Christ,
fourteen generations.
Now this is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about.
When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph,
but before they lived together,
she was found with child through the Holy Spirit.
Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man,
yet unwilling to expose her to shame,
decided to divorce her quietly.
Such was his intention when, behold,
the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said,
“Joseph, son of David,
do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home.
For it is through the Holy Spirit
that this child has been conceived in her.
She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus,
because he will save his people from their sins.”
All this took place to fulfill
what the Lord had said through the prophet:
Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel,
which means “God is with us.”
When Joseph awoke,
he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him
and took his wife into his home.
He had no relations with her until she bore a son,
and he named him Jesus.
Having just heard Paul proclaim that Jesus is a descendant of David, we now turn to Saint Matthew’s account of the genealogy and birth of Christ.
Matthew does not simply record names; he unveils a profound proclamation of identity. For the Jewish people—and for many Eastern cultures of nomadic origin—genealogy was not a matter of curiosity but of essence: a person’s identity was rooted in family and tribe, far more than in place of birth. To belong by blood to the chosen people carried deep religious significance
The book of the genealogy of Jesus Christ,
Saint Matthew opens his gospel with a startling announcement: Jesus is Christ (Greek: Christos), the long-awaited Messiah (Hebrew: Mashiach, meaning “Anointed One”).
the son of David, the son of Abraham.
Jesus is identified both as the “son of David,” linking him to the royal line and Messianic expectations, and as the “son of Abraham,” affirming his identity as a true son of Israel, rooted in the covenantal promises made to the patriarchs.
Interestingly, Matthew mentions David first, though Abraham lived centuries earlier. In Jewish thought, the Messiah was most often invoked as “Son of David,” making David the central figure of expectation. By highlighting David first, Matthew underscores Jesus’ rightful claim to this title and sets the genealogy’s tone as a witness to His royal authority and divine mission.
Thus, Matthew presents Jesus as the fulfillment of both the Davidic and Abrahamic covenants.
Abraham became the father of Isaac, Isaac the father of Jacob, Jacob the father of Judah and his brothers. Judah became the father of Perez and Zerah, whose mother was Tamar.
Matthew’s genealogy traces Jesus’ lineage through key figures in Israel’s history, beginning with Abraham, who represents the origin of the covenant people.
Matthew includes four women in the genealogy — Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba (mentioned indirectly as “the wife of Uriah”) — a striking departure from tradition, which typically listed only male ancestors. Each of these women carried a scandalous or unconventional past, standing in contrast to the omission of revered matriarchs like Sarah, Rebekah, Leah, and Rachel.
By deliberately highlighting these figures, Matthew proclaims that God works through the unexpected and the marginalized to accomplish His plan. Tamar, for instance, a Canaanite who disguised herself as a prostitute to bear children by Judah, became the mother of Perez and Zerah (Genesis 38).
Through such complex and flawed human circumstances, God’s redemptive purposes shine forth, revealing that salvation history is woven not only through the righteous but also through those on society’s margins.
Perez became the father of Hezron, Hezron the father of Ram, Ram the father of Amminadab. Amminadab became the father of Nahshon, Nahshon the father of Salmon, Salmon the father of Boaz, whose mother was Rahab.
Another woman with a scandalous background, Rahab was a Canaanite woman of Jericho, identified in Scripture as a prostitute (Joshua 2:1). Despite her background and outsider status, she played a decisive role in Israel’s entry into the Promised Land by sheltering the spies sent by Joshua. In an extraordinary act of faith, she professed her belief that the God of Israel was the true God and secured a promise of protection for her family (Joshua 2:1-21).
Rahab later married Salmon, becoming the mother of Boaz and an ancestor of King David.
Boaz became the father of Obed, whose mother was Ruth.
Ruth came from Moab, a nation often viewed with hostility by Israel. After the death of her husband, Ruth chose to stay with her Israelite mother-in-law, Naomi, declaring her loyalty to Naomi and to the God of Israel (Ruth 1:16-17). In Bethlehem, she courageously sought protection and provision by appealing to Boaz, a relative of her late husband, in a way that could be seen as bold or even improper for the time (Ruth 3:1-13).
Ruth’s faithfulness and integrity ultimately led to her marriage to Boaz, making her the great-grandmother of King David.
Obed became the father of Jesse, Jesse the father of David the king.
Matthew’s genealogy now reaches its first major peak in David, the central figure of Israel’s monarchy and the cornerstone of messianic expectation.
By naming him explicitly as “David the king” (the only person in the genealogy given a title), Matthew signals that the story of Jesus cannot be understood apart from God’s covenant with David in 2 Samuel 7.
This is the moment where the genealogy shifts from merely tracing ancestry to announcing the fulfillment of messianic promise.
David became the father of Solomon, whose mother had been the wife of Uriah.
The mother of Solomon was Bathsheba, another woman cloaked in controversy. Her initial union with David was the result of adultery, a fact alluded to here by referring to her not by name, but as “the wife of Uriah” (cf. 2 Samuel 11-12).
“It is significant how much our Lord’s temporal ancestry was connected with sinners and foreigners! These blots on the escutcheon of his human lineage suggest a pity for the sinful and for the strangers of the covenant. Both these aspects of his compassion would later be hurled against him as accusations: ‘he is a friend of sinners’; ‘he is a Samaritan.’ But the shadow of a stained past foretells his future love for the stained. Born of a woman, he was a man and could be one with all humanity; born of a Virgin, who was overshadowed by the Spirit and ‘full of grace,’ he would also be outside that current of sin which infected all men.” —Venerable Fulton J. Sheen
Solomon became the father of Rehoboam, Rehoboam the father of Abijah, Abijah the father of Asaph. Asaph became the father of Jehoshaphat, Jehoshaphat the father of Joram, Joram the father of Uzziah. Uzziah became the father of Jotham, Jotham the father of Ahaz, Ahaz the father of Hezekiah. Hezekiah became the father of Manasseh, Manasseh the father of Amos, Amos the father of Josiah. Josiah became the father of Jechoniah and his brothers at the time of the Babylonian exile.
The genealogy progresses from David’s royal glory to the Babylonian exile, marking the decline of the Davidic monarchy and Israel’s repeated unfaithfulness. The apparent interruption of God’s promises comes to a climax when the Babylonians destroyed Jerusalem in 587 BC and exiled King Jechoniah (also called Jehoiachin), the last Davidic king to sit on the throne (cf. 2 Kings 24:8-17; 2 Kings 25:1-21).
After the Babylonian exile, Jechoniah became the father of Shealtiel, Shealtiel the father of Zerubbabel, Zerubbabel the father of Abiud. Abiud became the father of Eliakim, Eliakim the father of Azor, Azor the father of Zadok. Zadok became the father of Achim, Achim the father of Eliud, Eliud the father of Eleazar. Eleazar became the father of Matthan, Matthan the father of Jacob,
The post-exile lineage shows continuity even in Israel’s diminished state.
For more than 500 years, no Davidic king ruled. Still, prophets foretold the coming of a Messiah to deliver God’s people, who had long suffered under the domination of foreign powers (including the Romans, since 63 BC).
Jacob the father of Joseph, the husband of Mary. Of her was born Jesus who is called the Messiah.
Matthew’s wording here is deliberate: he does not say that Jesus was the son of Joseph, but that Joseph was “the husband of Mary, of whom Jesus was born” (Matthew 1:16). This emphasizes that Jesus’s paternity was not derived from Joseph, but from God, while Joseph was Jesus’s legal father.
Although Matthew makes no explicit claim about Mary’s ancestry, several early Christian writers such as Justin Martyr and Irenaeus affirm that Mary herself descended from David. Marriage within one’s extended clan was common in first-century Judaism, making this claim plausible. Thus, Christian tradition has long understood Jesus’ Davidic heritage to be secured legally through Joseph and, according to early testimony, biologically through Mary as well, even though the Gospel does not directly assert the latter.
Thus the total number of generations from Abraham to David is fourteen generations; from David to the Babylonian exile, fourteen generations; from the Babylonian exile to the Messiah, fourteen generations.
Matthew presents his genealogy with deliberate structure, rich in symbolism. The number fourteen may allude to David, whose Hebrew name equals fourteen in gematria (a traditional Jewish system of assigning numerical values to letters) — thereby reinforcing Jesus’ royal identity. The symmetry itself highlights God’s sovereignty over history.
To serve his theological intent, Matthew omits certain kings, such as Ahaziah, Joash, and Amaziah, from the second set (1 Chronicles 3:11-12; 2 Chronicles 24-26:2). Such omissions were common in ancient genealogies, where the focus was on meaning rather than exhaustive accuracy.
The pattern of fourteen generations also suggests deeper symbolism. Fourteen equals two sets of seven, and seven represents divine perfection and completion (cf. Genesis 2:2-3; Leviticus 25:8). Viewed this way, the genealogy unfolds in six groups of seven, with Jesus inaugurating the seventh set of seven — signifying him as the perfect fulfillment of God’s covenant promises to David and Abraham.
Now this is how the birth of Jesus Christ came about.
Having expounded on the genealogy of Jesus, Matthew now begins his account of Jesus’ birth.
In Year A, this portion of the gospel reading will sound very familiar, as it was proclaimed on the Fourth Sunday of Advent, just a few days ago. The Christmas Vigil gives these verses a new resonance: Advent hears them in the key of promise; Christmas hears them in the key of fulfillment. The genealogy that once pointed forward now comes fully alive in the birth we celebrate tonight.
When his mother Mary was betrothed to Joseph, but before they lived together,
In first-century Judaism, betrothal (kiddushin) created a legally binding union. The man and woman were already regarded as “husband” and “wife,” and ending the relationship required a writ of divorce.
Full marital life began only when the bride was formally brought into the groom’s home (Deuteronomy 20:7), at which time the union was usually consummated. This was followed by a seven-day wedding feast (Genesis 29:27, Judges 14:12), after which the couple began to live together.
she was found with child through the Holy Spirit.
Notice how simply Matthew proclaims the miraculous nature of Jesus’ conception, highlighting the role of the Holy Spirit.
Discovering that a betrothed woman was pregnant before consummating her marriage posed a grave dilemma. Under Mosaic Law (Deuteronomy 22:23-27), any sexual contact between a betrothed woman and another man was considered adultery, punishable by death for both parties (Exodus 20:14; Leviticus 20:10). However, during Roman occupation, executions under Jewish law were prohibited (cf. John 18:31), making such penalties unlikely in this case.
Although Roman occupation made actual executions under Jewish law unlikely (cf. John 18:31), the consequences for Mary would still have been severe. If Joseph chose to repudiate her, she would face public shame, social exclusion, and the near impossibility of finding another Jewish man willing to marry her — placing her at risk of long-term economic insecurity in a society where a woman’s livelihood depended heavily on family and marital support.
Joseph her husband, since he was a righteous man, yet unwilling to expose her to shame, decided to divorce her quietly.
Joseph’s righteousness is evident in his compassionate response to what must have appeared to be a devastating betrayal.
As a díkaios (“a righteous man,” i.e., faithful to God’s law), he could not marry someone who appeared to have so grossly violated the covenant.
Yet his righteousness includes mercy; he refuses to subject Mary to public disgrace. The quiet divorce allowed by Jewish practice seemed the only honorable route (Deuteronomy 23:13-21; Mishnah Sotah 1.1, 5).
Such was his intention when, behold, the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream
Dreams and angelic messengers are traditional modes of divine revelation in Scripture; here, Joseph receives both.
and said, “Joseph, son of David,
Note how the angel addresses Joseph by his Davidic lineage.
do not be afraid to take Mary your wife into your home.
The directive to not be afraid points to the moral and social pressures of Joseph’s predicament.
In light of the Mosaic Law’s requirements of justice, it wouldn’t be honorable for him to assume the paternity of a child whom he knew wasn’t his. If the true paternity came to light, his failure to repudiate her could be seen as evidence of a disgraceful connivance on his part for her sin.
For it is through the Holy Spirit that this child has been conceived in her.
The angel reveals the child’s true origin to Joseph and exonerates Mary of any impropriety.
Notice how Matthew again highlights the role of the Holy Spirit. This evokes Israel’s hope that the Spirit would inaugurate the messianic age.
That age begins here.
She will bear a son and you are to name him Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.”
According to the customs of the time, if a man named a child, he was declaring the child legally his own. The angel’s command leaves no doubt in Joseph’s mind that he is to be the child’s legal human father.
“Jesus,” the Greek form of the Hebrew Yeshua (Joshua), means “Yahweh saves.” This name is a link to Jesus’ mission: not liberation from political enemies, but salvation from sin — a startling and profound shift for a Jewish audience expecting a Davidic king who would liberate them from Rome.
All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had said through the prophet:
This is the first of Matthew’s ten “fulfillment” formula statements, which begin “this was to fulfill …” and are followed by a reference to the Old Testament.
They show that God’s plan unfolding in Christ is the culmination — not the cancellation — of Israel’s story.
“Behold, the virgin shall be with child and bear a son,
In this fulfillment statement, Matthew quotes Isaiah 7:14 in the Greek Septuagint form. There, the Hebrew almah (a young woman of marriageable age) is translated to Greek as parthénos (“virgin”).
Matthew and the Church, looking backward through the lens of the resurrection, see the birth of Christ from the Blessed Virgin Mary as the perfect fulfillment of this prophecy, foretold about seven hundred years earlier.
and they shall name him Emmanuel,” which means “God is with us.”
This is amazing news. The birth of Jesus, as described here, initiates the Messianic age of salvation to which the whole Old Testament looks forward, and Jesus makes the presence of God among his people a physical reality.
Matthew intentionally echoes this at the end of his Gospel — “I am with you always” — framing the entire Gospel with the promise of divine presence.
For Catholics, this presence endures sacramentally in the Eucharist and through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.
“Every religion speaks of God or the gods. Many philosophies contain teachings about a supreme being or first cause. But the Bible alone indicates that God’s truest name and most distinctive quality is that he will be with us. In good times and bad, during periods of light and darkness, when we are rejoicing and grieving, God is stubbornly with us: Emmanuel.” —Bishop Robert Barron
When Joseph awoke, he did as the angel of the Lord had commanded him and took his wife into his home.
Joseph’s immediate obedience underscores his faith and righteousness. By taking Mary into his home, he legally legitimizes Jesus as his son, securing his Davidic lineage.
He had no relations with her until she bore a son,
The phrase “knew her not” reaffirms the virginal conception.
The Greek word translated as “until” (heōs) does not necessarily imply that circumstances changed afterward, nor does it rule out the possibility. In this context, it simply indicates that Joseph refrained from relations with Mary up to the time of Jesus’ birth, without making any statement about what followed. A parallel appears in John 9:18, where the Pharisees are said not to have believed the testimony of the man born blind “until” (heōs) they summoned his parents. The text does not suggest their belief changed afterward (it didn’t).
and he named him Jesus.
Joseph’s act of naming Jesus reflects his acceptance of his role in God’s plan and his recognition of Jesus’ divine mission.
By carefully weaving together genealogy, prophecy, and divine intervention, Matthew reminds us that the coming of Christ is not only the fulfillment of ancient promises but also the opening of a new chapter of grace for all who believe.
Connections and Themes
Christmas vigil. The word “vigil” comes from the Latin word vigilia which means “a watching” or “keeping watch.” In the language of the Church, this term refers to the day preceding a major feast or solemnity, set apart for prayerful preparation. In early Christianity, the faithful would gather on the evening before significant feasts, dedicating themselves to prayer in honor of the mystery or saint to be celebrated. This tradition often included a day of fasting, emphasizing spiritual readiness and reverence. It was in this way that Christian tradition was confirmed and perpetuated.
Yahweh fulfills his promises. The readings at the Vigil Mass place us at the threshold of promise and fulfillment, calling us to reflect on the steady unfolding of God’s saving plan through history and its completion in Christ.
In our first reading, God assures his people that desolation will become a radiant sign for all nations, revealing both Israel’s deep longing for renewal and God’s unwavering commitment to accomplish it.
Our second reading then traces this promise across generations, from the patriarchs to David, proclaiming its fulfillment in the Savior.
Matthew’s genealogy reveals the culmination of this long story: every generation, whether marked by triumph or failure, leads to Jesus. In him, God’s promise to justify, restore, and save his people reaches its fullness, and the light announced by Isaiah extends to the whole world.
The dawn of Emmanuel. Tonight, Israel’s long waiting meets its answer, and our Advent longing finds its completion. The dawn has broken. The light Isaiah foresaw now shines in the child born of Mary — salvation not distant or abstract, but God himself dwelling among us. In the Incarnation, heaven bends to earth and eternity enters time; the Word becomes flesh to share our life and redeem it.
The night of expectation gives way to the morning of joy. Christ is the radiant dawn that dispels every darkness, the light no shadow can overcome. The Vigil invites us to behold in the child of Bethlehem the fulfillment of God’s promise and to welcome him as Emmanuel — God with us, and God who remains with us still.
Sunday Readings 