A Homily for the Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Sunday, January 18, 2026
Isaiah 49:3, 5-6; Psalm 40:2, 4, 7-8, 8-9, 10; 1 Corinthians 1:1-3; John 1:29-34
Every once in a while in life, someone points to another person and says, “That’s the one.” That’s the doctor who saved my life. That’s the teacher who changed everything for me. That’s the man or woman who showed me what faith really looks like.
Today, John the Baptist does exactly that. He looks at Jesus and says, “Behold, the Lamb of God.”
John doesn’t talk about himself. He doesn’t build a following for his own sake. He points away from himself. His whole mission is to help people recognize Jesus when He appears. And when Jesus finally comes, John doesn’t hesitate. He testifies clearly: “I saw the Spirit come down like a dove from heaven and remain upon him… Now I have seen and testified that he is the Son of God.”
John knows who Jesus is: not just a good man, not just a prophet, not just a teacher—but the Son of God, the one who existed before all things, the one who will baptize not just with water, but with the Holy Spirit.
When John calls Jesus “the Lamb of God,” every Jewish listener would have understood the meaning. Lambs were offered in sacrifice. Their blood was a sign of deliverance in Egypt. Lambs were offered in the Temple for sin and thanksgiving. John is saying: this man is the sacrifice. This man will take away sin. This man will give his life so others may live.
And notice: John doesn’t say, “He will take away some sins.” He says, “the sin of the world.” That includes mine. That includes yours. That includes the sins we still regret, the ones we thought were unforgivable, the ones we hope nobody else remembers—but God does, and He forgives.
John tells us something very important: the Spirit did not just touch Jesus—it “remained” on Him. In the Old Testament, the Spirit would come upon people for a time—prophets, kings, leaders—and then withdraw. But in Jesus, the Spirit comes and stays. Why? Because Jesus is the new beginning of humanity. He is the New Adam. In Him, God is restoring what was lost in Eden: God dwelling within the human heart.
And John tells us something even more astonishing: “He will baptize with the Holy Spirit.” That means Jesus did not come only to forgive us from the outside. He came to change us from the inside. Christianity is not just learning rules. It is not just behaving better. It is becoming new. As St. Paul says, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation.” Not repaired. Not patched up. New.
Most of us were baptized long ago—maybe as babies, maybe as adults. But what really happened that day? Water was poured. Words were spoken. But something invisible and eternal took place: the Holy Spirit came to live in you. An indelible mark was placed on your soul…marking you as belonging to God. God did not just forgive you; He moved in. He made your soul His dwelling place. You became, as Scripture says, a “temple of the Holy Spirit.”
That means your life is sacred. Your body is sacred. Your story—every chapter of it—belongs to God. You may feel old. You may feel worn. You may feel like your best years are behind you. But the Holy Spirit does not retire. God is not finished with you. As long as you are breathing, the Spirit is still working, still shaping, still calling you to become more like Christ.
In the Gospel today, two of John’s disciples hear him say, “Behold, the Lamb of God,” and they follow Jesus. Jesus turns and asks them a simple but profound question: “What are you looking for?” That is a question for every one of us. What are you really looking for at this stage of your life—comfort, peace, forgiveness, purpose, hope?
Those two disciples answer, “Where are you staying?” In other words: we don’t just want information about you. We want to be with you. And Jesus says, “Come and see.” That invitation is still open—not just for the young, not just for the energetic, but for every soul that wants to live, not just exist.
So what does all this mean for us, here and now?
First, we must keep pointing to Jesus. Like John the Baptist, our job is not to draw attention to ourselves but to say, by our lives and our words, “Look to Him.” Our children, our grandchildren, our neighbors—many of them will meet Jesus first by watching how we live.
Second, we must remember who lives within us. You are not empty. You are not abandoned. You are not just getting through the days until the end. You are a dwelling place of God. That means we must care for that flame. St. Paul says, “Do not quench the Spirit.” We quench the Spirit with bitterness, with resentment, with despair, with the habit of saying, “Nothing will ever change.” But we fan the flame with prayer, forgiveness, gratitude, and trust.
Third, we must walk by the Spirit—not just believe, but live; not just attend Mass, but let Mass change us. Every time we say, “Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world,” we are looking at the One John pointed to. Every time we receive the Eucharist, the Lamb of God comes to dwell in us again.
John the Baptist’s words still echo through history: “Behold, the Lamb of God.” Today, we behold Him. We receive Him. We carry Him. And then, like John, we are sent to point others to Him—not with loud speeches, but with lives shaped by the Spirit.
May we never forget who Jesus is: the Son of God, the Lamb who saves, the One who gives us His Spirit. And may we never forget who we are—not finished, not forgotten, but beloved, Spirit-filled, and still being made new in Christ.