A Scriptural Reflection by Fr. Jim Sullivan on the Mass Readings for Sunday, January 4, 2026, the Feast of the Epiphany
Isaiah 6:1-6
Psalm 72:1-2, 7-8, 10-13
Ephesians 3:2-3, 5-6
Matthew 2:1-12
The Feast of the Epiphany is one of my favorite feast days of the year. Although I think there are several reasons for this (among them the fact that the feast occurs in January, my birthday month), I think the primary reason is simply that this feast celebrates the conversion of the Gentiles — that is, it celebrates the conversion of our ancestors; it celebrates, really, us.
All of today’s readings hew closely to this theme, the theme of the conversion of the nations. The day would come, today’s readings proclaim, when the peoples of the world would recognize in Jesus Christ their God, their Lord, their Savior, and recognize as well that the God of the Jews IS God. The joy associated with the Gentile conversion is another reason that I so love this feast.
Our Gentile — that is, pagan — ancestors are well described by Isaiah in today’s first reading: “…darkness covers the earth and thick clouds, the people” (vs. 2). Our pre-Christian ancestors are described in another passage from Isaiah in terms of their joy at the discovery of Christian truth, of the great plan of salvation that God, through the apostles and disciples and their missionary efforts, was now revealing to them.
“The people who dwelt in darkness have seen a great light; upon those who lived in a land of gloom a light has shone. You have brought them abundant joy and great rejoicing” (Isaiah 9:1-2).
The heart of the Christian message — that God had become one of us — electrified our ancient ancestors. There was nothing to compare with it, in any of the pagan religions. That God “so loved the world that he gave his only son” (John 3:16) was astounding news to the Gentiles. It was, indeed, THE Good News. Suddenly there was a new understanding of life itself, its meaning and its purpose, a new understanding of our ultimate destiny. And these new understandings astonished the Gentiles. Astonished them and gave them great joy, gave them a literally out-of-this-world hope.
In the lyrics of the Christmas hymn, “Long lay the world in sin and error pining, ’til he appeared and the soul felt its worth” express well the response of the Gentiles to the Good News. The elevation of human nature inherent in the Christian message, the assurance to our ancestors of their worth, their value, their pricelessness to the God who had made them, was a deep and astonishing revelation to the Gentiles. It is the reason they responded with such enthusiasm to the preaching of the apostles.
The descriptions of the Savior in today’s psalm resonate with this sense of wonder and awe, on the part of the Gentiles. Psalm 72 describes a Messiah of gentle and forgiving love; a Messiah, too, of cosmic dimension and power. And the psalm describes in some detail how the nations, that is, the Gentiles, will flock to the worship of the Jewish Messiah (vss. 10-13).
The reading from Ephesians underscores the reality of Gentile conversion; Paul writes that the “mystery of Christ…was not made known to human beings in other generations as it has now been revealed…that the Gentiles are coheirs, members of the same body and co-partners in the promise in Christ Jesus” (vss. 5-6).
The Gospel account from Matthew is that of the wise men — the first of the Gentiles to recognize that the newborn King of the Jews is in fact also their king. They traversed many hundreds of miles (they were likely Persian — modern-day Iran) to reach Jesus and when they found him they offered gifts of great value, and “overjoyed…they prostrated themselves and did him homage” (vss. 10-11).
A substantive homily could be focused solely on the magi, this Feast of the Epiphany. It is intriguing, to say the least, how they came to know that a new king had been born among the Jewish people, a king to whom they — Persians — owed homage. Clearly, these men were receptive to the graces of the Holy Spirit, as of course, were the many, many joyful Gentile converts in those first decades, those first generations of the preaching of the Christian faith.
I work in Gentile territory, so to speak; the Land of the Teens. For over thirty years now, I have made myself available to the Spirit for the evangelization of the young. That fact may be another reason why I so love the Feast of the Epiphany. It is no small thing, for me, when I see the light break in a student, when I see one of my teens suddenly make a connection with the God who so loves them that he became one of us and died that death for us. These breakthrough moments happen — it seems — randomly; I am always surprised when one of my students at O’Dowd suddenly “gives testimony” to his or her experience of God.
But it happens. It happens with some regularity, and it always leaves me — joyful — in the recognition that the conversion of the Gentiles is an ongoing process, and that I am at the heart of it, at Bishop O’Dowd. I never planned to be a missionary, but in fact, that is very much what I am, in the Land of the Young, at Bishop O’Dowd.
Speaking of the high school, I am back on campus this coming week. Classes start Tuesday. That is, classes start the actual traditional date — January 6 — of the Epiphany itself. I am just realizing that and I am smiling. I am in London, as this is arriving. I DID finally travel, this sabbatical! But as I am writing this in advance of the trip (the homily goes out on a pre-timed release) I have nothing to report. I am with very good friends in both London and Paris this week, and we are all very grateful that this trip actually came together and is happening!
Take good care. God bless.
Happy New Year!
Cheerio!
Fr. Jim










The following is adapted from the best-selling book, 
Visionaries of Our Lady of Zaro
On June 24, 1981, the eve of the Feast of the Nativity of St. John the Baptist, two young girls were walking a small hamlet in Bosnia-Herzegovina, when a woman holding an infant appeared high on a hill among the boulders and brambles of Mount Podbrdo. Instinctively, they knew it was the Virgin Mary, but they did not approach her. They and four other children felt called to return the next day, and Our Blessed Mother drew them to her, effortlessly transporting them up the mountain, over boulders and thorny bushes. The Blessed Mother introduced herself as the Queen of Peace. They fell to their knees and began to pray. She prayed with them and promised to return the next day. Our Lady has regularly appeared in Medjugorje ever since, as have countless stories of conversion and miracles, making the apparitions of Our Lady in Medjugorje one of the longest and most fascinating in modern church history.
Those who have not yet heard a proper introduction to the revelations on the “Gift of Living in the Divine Will,” which Jesus entrusted to Luisa are sometimes perplexed by the zeal harbored by those who have had this introduction: “Why so much emphasis on the message of this lowly lay woman from Italy who died over 70 years ago?”
(1913-1985) Wife, Mother, Mystic, and Founder of The Flame of Love Movement
For many years to follow, Elizabeth struggled to care for herself and her family. In 1948, the Communist Nationalization of Hungary was a harsh master, and she was fired from her first job for having a statue of the Blessed Mother in her home. Always a diligent worker, Elizabeth never had good fortune in her long string of short-lived jobs, as she struggled to feed her family. Eventually, all of her children married, and in time, moved back in with her, bringing their children with them.
Italy (1930-2011) Priest, Mystic, and Founder of The Marian Movement of Priests
A North-American man, who wishes to remain anonymous, and whom we will call Walter, was obnoxiously loud, braggadocious, and who mocked the Catholic faith, even to the point of ripping his mother’s rosary beads out of her praying hands and scattering them across the floor, went through a profound conversion.
Born in 1972 in Itajai in the state of Santa Catarina in Brazil, Eduardo Ferreira found an image of Our Lady of Aparecida in the courtyard of the family house on January 6, 1983. On October 12, 1987, four days after his First Communion, Eduardo and his sister Eliete were praying in front of this image when Eduardo saw a blue light emerging from it and illuminating the room. On February 12, 1988, he had his first vision of the Virgin Mary in grotto alongside 54 roses. Before the Virgin’s feet, there was a small stream where a snake appeared and wanted to jump in the water, so Our Lady trampled it with her foot. The snake writhed all over, trying to escape. In this vision that lasted about five minutes, the Virgin Mary introduced herself as the Lady of the Rosary.
The experiences of Manuela Strack (born in 1967) in Sievernich, Germany (25 km from Cologne in the diocese of Aachen) can be divided into two phases. Manuela, whose alleged mystical experiences began in childhood and intensified from 1996 onwards, first claimed to have received a large number of messages from Our Lady, Jesus, and the saints between 2000 and 2005, including locutions of a surprising theological and poetic density which she attributed to St. Teresa of Avila. Twenty-five “public” Marian apparitions took place between 2000 and 2002: in the first of these, the Mother of God asked Manuela, “Will you become a living Rosary for me? I am Mary, the Immaculate.” She also revealed to her that apparitions had already occurred in Sievernich during the Second World War but were hidden by the Nazis (the parish priest, Fr. Alexander Heinrich Alef, was an opponent of Hitler and died in a concentration camp).
In 1996, an anonymous woman in Rome, referred to as “Little Mary” (Piccola Maria) began receiving the locutions known as “Drops of Light” (Gocce di Luce), of which the well-known Italian publishers Edizioni Segno issued 10 volumes in book form, the latest dating from 2017, although the messages are ongoing. The only information given about the recipient is that she is a simple housewife and mother who lives in poverty and hiddenness. The locutions, attributed to Jesus, are predominantly catecheses on the Mass readings for the day, but sometimes touch on external events. For those familiar with Catholic mystical literature of the modern era, the tone and highly-structural, Scripturally dense content resemble the lengthy pedagogical discourses of the Lord found in the writings of Luisa Piccarreta or Don Ottavio Michelini.
Born in El Salvador in 1954 but living in Quebec, Canada, Sulema Gomez has been receiving messages for many years, which she attributes to Jesus and the Virgin Mary. These came to wider attention with the publication of three volumes of locutions received between 2010 and 2013, entitled I Have Come to Prepare You for This Event: the Illumination of Conscience. The title is a reference to the coming “mini-judgment,” also known as The Warning, prophesied by a considerable number of mystics over several decades, foretelling a unique occurrence in the history of humanity when all people on earth (with the exception of small children) will see their spiritual state as God sees it.
Fr. Dolindo Ruotolo (“Don” Dolindo in Italian) lived from 1882 to 1970. He was ordained to the priesthood on June 24, 1905 at the young age of 23 and dedicated his long life to prayer, penance, and the service of thousands of faithful who turned to him for guidance. Fr. Dolindo authored a monumental 33-volume commentary on every book of the Bible, called Sacred Scripture: Psychology, Commentary, Meditation, an unabridged autobiography, and left behind an extraordinary number of theological, ascetical and mystical writings, including penned answers to thousands of letters. Most of Fr. Dolindo’s writings have not yet been translated into English, but the work is underway. St. Padre Pio, a contemporary and friend, once said of his inspired writings, “Not a word that came from the pen of Don Dolindo should ever be lost.”
Content: The following is taken from the book, 
My name is Vickie Leigh S. Smith, M.Ed. I am a wife and mother of four, serving as an inspirational Catholic speaker and teacher in the ministry of healing and deliverance. My life is anchored in God’s Providence, which led me onto a path of profound transformation. Initially, I was trained and employed as a behaviorist, but before I could help others move from fear-based living to freedom, I discovered that I first needed healing myself—healing from past traumas, spiritual bondage, and a broken language of living as a victim. Through the sovereign power of Jesus, I experienced firsthand what it means to contend for healing, conversion, and deliverance. The Holy Spirit became my guide, the Blessed Virgin my intercessor, and the Holy Name of Jesus my stronghold. It was through this divine choreography that the Lord positioned me to integrate my education as a behaviorist with my life experience. My journey of transformation would impact the mission to which He was calling me. Little did I know, I would one day be helping others heal, as well.
Born in 1961, I grew up in a devout Catholic family where love for the Blessed Virgin Mary was at the heart of daily life. My relationship with Our Lady began early—deepening, especially after my First Holy Communion, when I felt her maternal battles with anxiety, panic attacks, and depression. From my youth, and through the love and peace the Blessed Mother imparted to me, I sensed a call to the priesthood.
I was born in 1963 and raised in a Catholic family that attended Church every Sunday and every Holy day of obligation.
I was raised in a family that decided God did not exist, or if He did, one could not prove it, so why waste one’s time wondering about such an esoteric and irrelevant concept? As I child, I often pondered what life meant and was overcome with a sick, foreboding when thoughts of death entered my mind.

My name is Amanda Dcosta, but most people around me call me Mandy. Hearing “AMANDA!” used to give me the fleeting impression I was in trouble—reminiscent of childhood mischief or grades being handed out in school—a feeling that amusingly lingered even into young adulthood. Don’t get me wrong, I embrace both names. Amanda means “beloved,” and I’ve always felt deeply loved by my family, by friends, and most of all, by God. Even during moments of doubt, I hold fast to the truth that I am loved. Knowing that God loves me gives me joy, the kind of joy that is my strength, the kind that is a gift and a choice, even in the absence of happiness.
I was born in Marysville, in the Sacramento Valley, to a large and faith-filled Catholic family. I was named for my priest uncle, and as a little boy wanted to be a priest. I outgrew that ambition and by the time I was headed for my freshman year at the University of California at Berkeley was planning on a career in law.