The Irreducibility of the I
Julián Carrón - “Darkness covers the earth, thick fog envelops the peoples.” With these words, the prophet Isaiah captures the state of our world. It would be difficult to find a more concise description of our times. In this darkness, we struggle to find a way to live. How often are we tempted to just throw in the towel! Why keep searching when we are so profoundly lost?
The answer is simple if we pay attention to our own experience. Think of the struggle to find the right treatment for a serious illness: if you truly value your life, you aren’t discouraged by how hard the search for healing becomes. On the contrary, you seek even more ardently. The more intense the pain, the more relentlessly you hunt for a solution. Is this just stubbornness? No—it is a simple, raw love for oneself.
Confusion is the hallmark of our era. We only need to look at the dismay caused by the daily news to realize the turmoil that constantly assails us. Many people feel paralyzed, not knowing how to navigate the disorientation they find themselves in. Yet, it is precisely in this climate that the irreducibility of the person emerges most clearly. The greater the disorientation, the more acute our need to find the Way.
Why doesn’t this uncertainty force us to give up? The fact that the search continues, despite everything, is a sign of a certainty even stronger than our doubt: it is the conviction that what we are looking for actually exists. A thirsty heart is the ultimate proof that water exists. This path isn’t reserved for heroes or high achievers; it is for fragile, lost men and women who refuse to stop caring for their own destiny.
Our current situation forces many to search for a meaning and a direction that can actually hold up in such a tangled world. Everything becomes even more complex in our multicultural context. Unlike the past, we no longer have a "shared vision" to lean on—a common framework that once made it easier to recognize the path, even during the hardest challenges.
We can reach the threshold of The Mystery, but we cannot break into it on our own. When we reach this limit and encounter a darkness and a silence we cannot penetrate, all we can do is remain—as the poet Antonio Machado says—with “clear eyes open,” listening for “distant signals” on the shore of that Great Silence.
With this awareness of our current "epochal change," we can more easily recognize ourselves in Isaiah's words. To those who stand "tense" before The Mystery, God makes a gesture—the same gesture we celebrate today on the Feast of the Epiphany. Only by acknowledging how thick the darkness is can we appreciate the extraordinary dawn God is bringing forth. “The Lord shines upon you; His glory appears upon you.” God responds to the impenetrable darkness with the splendor of a Presence. What if the search we are forced to undertake today were actually a great opportunity to rediscover the gift of this light?
The Magi are the emblem of a humanity that gropes in the dark and, for that very reason, stays alert to any sign of The Mystery—even something as small as a star. They embody Isaiah's command: “Lift up your eyes and look around.” The Magi didn't miss their opening; they set out. It was a journey full of obstacles, but they weren't discouraged until they found the One the star pointed toward. When they saw the star stop over the place where the Child was, they rejoiced with "exceedingly great joy." Entering the house, they saw the Child with Mary His mother, fell down, and worshiped Him.
What is the "star" today? It is people changed by this Child—men and women who shine in the middle of the darkness. No amount of gloom can extinguish the light that shines in a changed face. They show us that we are not condemned to disorientation. As Fr. Giussani said, the only "sign of hope" is the "multiplication of these people who are recognizable Presences," and the "inevitable sympathy" that springs up between them.
This is only possible for "seekers" who are attentive enough to intercept the light shining in certain faces. What is the proof that they have found it? What tells us this isn't just a figment of our imagination? It is the same experience the Magi had: the surprise of being hit by a "great joy" that corresponds to the heart.
Epiphany of the Lord - Year A Notes from the homily by Julián Carrón - January 6, 2026
(First reading: Is 60:1-6; Psalm 71 (72); Second reading: Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6; Gospel: Mt 2:1-12)
