This is the second reflection in our January series. Last week we meditated on the basic order of the Christian life revealed at Christmas: first we receive the Light as gift, then we follow where that Light leads. But by now the decorations have begun to come down, and as we enter Ordinary Time we can be tempted to return to business as usual. If the excitement of Christmas has worn off, what remains? The Church answers this week by pointing us to Baptism. Christmas is not an ending but a beginning, because in Baptism the Light we celebrated at Christmas becomes the Light we are called to live for the rest of the year.

The early Christians heard Isaiah’s summons with a strong sense that “Jerusalem” is not only a place on a map but a name for God’s people gathered, healed, and made radiant by grace. The divine Word calls us out of the shadows and into the illumination God gives. The command to “rise” is not a demand to manufacture our own holiness; it is a response to God’s initiative. The Light has arrived first, and now life must be reorganized around that Light.

That is why the Fathers so often connected Isaiah’s “arise” and “shine” to the Church’s baptismal life. St. Cyril of Jerusalem, preparing catechumens to enter the baptismal font, tells them that soon they will hear the lesson that says, “Shine… O thou new Jerusalem; for thy light is come.” Notice what that implies: Baptism is not only forgiveness; it is a new identity. The “new Jerusalem” is a people made new, taught to see themselves as belonging to Christ, and therefore capable of a different future. If Christmas reveals the Light in the face of the Child, Baptism makes that revelation personal: the Light is not merely admired; it is received as a new way of being.

St. John Chrysostom sharpens the challenge by refusing to let this verse become background music. Reflecting on the Christian life, he insists that the wake-up call is sometimes needed not only for unbelievers but for “many of the faithful,” and so it is necessary to cry out, “Awake… thou that sleepest… and Christ shall shine upon thee.” That is a bracing word for a post-Christmas slump. The danger is not only obvious sin; it is spiritual drowsiness, a slow return to “business as usual,” where the Incarnation becomes a memory instead of a present force. Chrysostom’s point is practical and urgent: if Christ has come, then indifference is no longer a neutral place to stand. We are either moving closer to God or drifting away from Him. There is no standing still in the spiritual life.

The Gospel this weekend gives us the deepest reason to rise: at Jesus’ Baptism we hear the Father’s voice, “This is my beloved Son.” The Father’s love is spoken aloud because love is meant to be received. At the start of a new year, many of us try to become different by willpower alone, but the Church Fathers keep returning to a deeper principle: belonging. We change because we are loved, and because Baptism grafts us into Christ, the Beloved Son, so that His light and His relationship with the Father become our life.

So if the Light has come, as Isaiah declares, what in me is still asleep? If the glory of the Lord shines upon us, what patterns must give way to worship, to mercy, to courage, to a more missionary faith? When you think of God looking at you, what do you imagine He sees? How does remembering your Baptism change the way you face the new year? Where do you need to hear God say, quietly and clearly, “You are my beloved”?