Do Not Be Afraid

I wonder if you’ve ever struggled with feeling pressure that Christmas has to be perfect? I think it’s something that plagues many of us, that sense of wanting or needing it to be a day where nothing goes wrong, nobody argues, the gifts are all exactly what was wanted, the tree sparkles, the food is delightful, it snows but nobody has to drive anywhere, and above all, everyone experiences that special ‘christmas spirit’ that’s like a tingle down your spine as you warm your toes by the fire. Isn’t that the image in our heads?

But this fourth Sunday of Advent takes us on a different journey. Today’s gospel reading starts with a disaster. Joseph is engaged to a nice young woman, and then horror of horrors, he finds out that she is expecting a baby, and this baby is not his. Now being engaged was very serious, and seen as having entered a contract - it was the first step of being married. So this turn of events was shocking in every way. It was a betrayal, an insult, a breach of contract, and justifiably a reason to end this marriage before it went any further. The future that Joseph thought he was stepping into was suddenly tainted, uncertain, full of confusion and humiliation. It is far from being perfect.

And yet. Even in the midst of this, we see great faith. We know that Mary had the faith to say yes in the first place, and now we see that Joseph too has a heart turned towards God. Firstly, his plan to end the marriage discreetly shields Mary from public disgrace and punishment. Considering the situation he finds himself in, and the assumed betrayal committed by Mary, this is an act of great grace. But then God sends him an angel in a dream, telling him about the baby, and with no more concrete evidence than this dream, Joseph trusts God enough to go ahead and build his family with Mary and this mysterious baby, the firstborn son who is not his own, but who he names and adopts. That is great faith. Faith that holds constant even in the face of difficult circumstances and unexpected changes.

This is the faith that the season of Advent guides us towards. These weeks of waiting and anticipation remind us that no matter what is happening to us or around us, God’s presence is assured. When the angel appears in Joseph’s dream, the first thing he does is speak to him by name, assuring him that he is known, that God is aware of him and with him in his situation. The second thing the angel says is that familiar phrase that Jesus grows up to be so fond of using himself: Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid to take your unexpectedly pregnant fiance as your wife. Do not be afraid of what people might say, of the whispers that might fly. Do not be afraid to take the child as your own son. Do not be afraid to do as God asks, even if it leads you into a future you did not anticipate. Even if it feels far from perfect.

My two year old has loved having a chocolate advent calendar this year. She doesn’t know why it’s happening, but she’s delighted that she gets a chocolate every day! However I suspect that when it’s finished there may be one or two meltdowns over this grand tradition not continuing forevermore. She doesn’t understand that it is a seasonal treat that will return in eleven months. I also suspect that Christmas day itself might include a meltdown or two, because she’s at that age where that just randomly happens for inexplicable reasons!

But even if it’s messy and stressful and includes some crying, we will celebrate God with us because that’s both the joy of Christmas and the truth of the angel’s message to Joseph. Do not be afraid. Do not be afraid, because God is coming, because God steps with us into the unexpected and the messy.

That is how this story is still our story. We live out the liturgical calendar, where every year we enter into waiting for the beginning of something we already know the ending to. In eleven months we will start all over again, but it is new every time because WE are new every time. Every Advent we are older than we were, we have experienced another year of life, our circumstances and relationships have changed, we have been through ups and downs.

But God is always there inviting us to not be afraid, asking us to trust. And in all the stress and meltdowns of the world we live in, Joseph also shows us that trust does not mean the absence of anxiety. But it does mean refusing to let anxiety have the final word. Faithfulness, in this gospel reading, looks like patience, restraint, and care. It looks like staying present when it would be easier to walk away. It looks like listening to the whisper of God, and continuing to do the small, ordinary acts of trust that make space for God to work among us.

This doesn’t always come naturally. We often find ourselves carrying disappointment, frustration, and fear alongside our hope. The temptation, in those moments, is to assume that God must be distant, or waiting for things to improve before drawing near again.

But the promise of the name Emmanuel, God-with-us, says otherwise. God is with us now. Not when everything is resolved. Not when we feel calmer, or more confident, or more certain about the future. God is with us in the in-between, in the waiting, in the discomfort of not knowing what comes next.

Christmas does not arrive because everything goes according to plan, or because we have managed to prepare enough to orchestrate the perfect day. It arrives because God chooses to enter human life as it actually is—complicated, fragile, and unfinished. And thankfully God’s presence does not depend on us, but on God’s faithfulness, which is constant through the ages.

So today is the last Sunday of Advent, and now Joseph finds himself waiting for the birth of this promised child. Unexpected, overturning plans, asking for great trust before he’s even born. But God is there in all of it, closer than we realise, about to be in the midst of us in a new way yet again.

As we wait, messy and unfinished, with Joseph, may we hold the angel’s words in our own hearts as well: ‘Do not be afraid.’ For God is with us, God is here, God is coming in Emmanuel. Amen.

Matthew 1:18-25