18/01/2026
*HOMILY FOR 2ND SUNDAY YEAR C*
FR. KARIUKI
*Jn 1:29-34*
_During the Second World War, one Japanese prisoner-of-war camp forced captives to build the long and deadly railway from Thailand to Burma. Each evening, after hours of backbreaking labour, the guards counted the tools._
_One evening, the count came up short. One spade was said to be missing. The prisoners were lined up immediately. The guards announced:_
_“Handover the thief or several of you die today!"_
_Fear spread through the assembly. No one moved. No one knew of any theft._
_Tension grew. Guns were cocked._
_Then, from the silent assembly, one man stepped forward and said:_
_“I took it."_
_Without trial, he was shot immediately._
_Later that same evening, the storekeeper checked again. The count had been wrong. No spade was missing. There had been no crime committed. An innocent man stepped forward and died, not because he was guilty, but so that others might live._
When John the Baptist points to Jesus and says:
_*“Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world,”*_
this is what he means. Like that prisoner, Jesus steps forward when humanity stands accused. There is fear. There is judgement. And there is death looming. He steps forward and says,
_“I will take it.”_
The world’s count was wrong, but the Lamb still stepped forward and cried out on the cross, “It is finished.” What was finished? The debt of sin—paid in full.
When priest says "Behold the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world", it is a declaration. It means:
Your sin is not stronger that God's mercy. Your sin is not greater than his love. Your sin is not your final identity.
And when we respond, "Lord, I am not worthy..." we are simply admitting that his mercy is more than our failures.
In the Old Testament, lambs were sacrificed again and again. Blood was poured out, and a scapegoat was marked with the same blood and sent into the wilderness to carry away the people’s sins. Yet the problem remained, sin kept returning, like dust pushed under the carpet, never truly gone.
But Jesus came and changed everything. He didn't, and still does not, sweep the dirt under the carpet. The Lamb of God takes it away and pays the price we cannot pay.
When he forgives, he erases it completely. So why do we keep holding on to what God has already deleted?
When we say, “Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof…” we are not merely reciting a liturgical dialogue between the priest and the congregation; we are speaking the truth. If Jesus waited only for the worthy, Communion lines would be very short—perhaps even empty.
Yet he still comes, not because we are perfect, but because we are loved and already forgiven.
Therefore, when life grows heavy, when guilt burdens your heart, when weariness sets in after repeated struggles, remember this truth: you are not saved because of your strength, but because the Lamb freely gave himself for you. Lift up your eyes, walk forward in hope, and place your trust in the One who offered his life for you, for he will never cease to love you. You were bought at a great price; therefore, you are precious and deeply valued.
