Cebu Archbishop Alberto “Abet” Uy in his homily during the Holy Mass in celebration of the Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord at St. John Paul II Retirement Home for Priests last 25 December 2025
“My dear brother priests, today, the Church places before us not a busy story — but a quiet mystery. No census. No shepherds. No angels singing in the sky.
Instead, we are led to the silence of eternity: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (John 1:1)
This is a fitting Christmas Gospel for you, my dear brothers — men who have lived long enough to know that God often speaks most deeply in silence, and that the most important things in life do not shout; they remain.
The prophet Isaiah says: “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of the one who brings good news.”
Dear brothers, many of your feet are now slow, tired, perhaps painful. Some no longer climb mountains. Some no longer stand long at the altar.
But in the eyes of God, your feet are still beautiful.
They are beautiful because they have walked faithfully:
- into parishes you did not choose
- into homes of grief and poverty
- into confessionals late at night
- into hospital rooms where only faith remained.
You may no longer preach loudly, but your life itself has proclaimed peace.
Isaiah does not say, “How strong are the feet,” but “How beautiful.” And beauty, my brothers, does not fade with age.
The Letter to the Hebrews reminds us: “In times past, God spoke through the prophets; He has spoken through the Son.”
Many of you have preached thousands of homilies. Some you remember. Most you do not.
But the good news is this: Your priesthood was never about your words. It was about bearing Christ — the Son through whom God speaks.
Even now, in retirement or frailty, you are still living homilies.
When you pray quietly…
When you accept weakness with humility…
When you wait patiently…
When you offer your sufferings silently…
God is still speaking — through you.
The Church still listens, even when the world does not notice.
This is the heart of Christmas: “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us.”
Not the Word became powerful.
Not the Word became successful.
The Word became flesh — vulnerable, dependent, in need of care.
My dear brothers, many of you now live this mystery deeply.
You understand now, more than ever, that God is not found only in strength, but in dependence, slowness, and waiting.
Christmas tells us this consoling truth:
God does not retire from loving us.
God does not step back when we grow weak.
God draws closer.
The Word still dwells among us — in your rooms, in your silence, in your prayers, in your very breath.
John says: “We saw His glory… full of grace and truth.”
Dear brothers, your glory is not in what you can still do, but in what you have faithfully become.
This Christmas, the Church thanks you.
Your Archbishop thanks you.
And most of all, Christ thanks you.
Rest now in the joy of Christmas. The Word you served all your life has not forgotten you. He has come to dwell with you — still.
Merry Christmas!”