Sermon from the Fourth Sunday of Advent, First UMC East Greenbush

 

Sermon from 12/21/25 Matthew 1:18-25

          It was a cold, dark winter’s night, the day was drawing to an end as clothes were traded for pajamas and the promise of sleep was near … and in that cozy stillness I heard these words, “mom, I need help with my math homework!” I took a deep breath, gently moved the cuddly dog from my lap and dove in to the great unknown … that is middle school math. My son had been absent so he missed the lesson. I looked at the worksheet and everything I ever knew seemed to run out of my mind. It looked nonsensical. I said “are you sure about this whole advanced math thing, maybe try regular math.” But there was no laugh from him, only the look of distress that comes when you are stuck. We started looking over the sample problems, reading the problem over and over again, trying different numbers in different places. I knew that somewhere deep in the recesses of my brain these lessons were buried from learning them years ago, but things have changed and the formulas the teacher used in the example looked completely unknown. As I sat there writing numbers and trying my best to tap into my inner middle-school student, my son said “I got it!” and he started spouting off numbers and writing quickly and then had a big smile. I looked at his work and nodded and said “oh, ok!” clearly not knowing what the heck he was talking about. But he really wanted me to stay with him in this, so he explained it a few times and eventually it kind of made sense. And man did I feel proud of myself. As I tucked him into bed he said “that math homework took SO long” and I said “yeah, but it was kind of fun” and he said “yeah, it was.”

          We got there. What started out as utter confusion eventually moved to trust as I watched his brain put the pieces together and then ended with enlightenment as we both felt so satisfied in having figured it out.

          This journey from confusion to trust to enlightenment is not one confined only to the complications of middle-school math. It is a familiar journey for anyone who has lived and breathed. And it is an ancient one, as we heard in the Gospel reading today.

         Today’s reading opens a door into the mind of Joseph. It starts with confusion. He was engaged to Mary. This meant that there was likely a ceremony of engagement after which she would stay living at her father’s house for what could have been a year or a few years and then he would come and take her to their new home together. And during this time of not living together, she becomes pregnant. Joseph is confused and wants to follow the rules but also does not want to publicly shame her, so he decides to quietly end things. But, as he is still thinking this over, one translation says “as he was considering this” [1] he has a dream. Imagine what this was like for Joseph. He was likely quite young and here he is dealing with this unexpected shock and trying to figure out what he will do. The stakes are high, the life of the woman he loves may be at stake, and yet, he wants to do what he believes to be right.

           It is in this state that Joseph has a dream. In the dream he sees an “angel of the Lord” who lays it out very clearly and directly: don’t be afraid, take her as your wife and name the baby Jesus. And that’s enough for Joseph. He has trust, complete and total trust, all confusion and contemplation is over and he does what the angel told him to do in the dream.

         It’s interesting if you think of this in the context of an origin story. In movies and comics, every hero has some sort of origin story that defines their life and their mission. For Batman, it was watching his parents get killed by a criminal as a young boy and vowing to avenge their deaths by devoting his life to fighting crime. For Superman, it was surviving the destruction of his home planet, getting adopted and discovering his superpowers. Spider-Man too has lost his parents and when he is bitten by a spider as a teenager he has to sort out his powers and his capabilities as a young man. All of these are very dramatic and heart breaking.

          And here we have the origin story of Jesus. Two young people with plans, thrust into a divine salvation story by appearances from an angel. And both of them, both Mary and Joseph quickly move from confusion to trust. The origin story of the life of Jesus begins with two confused people who decided to trust.

         Trust is a tricky thing. It can be easy like when you know and love someone who has proven themselves, or it can be really hard like when you are afraid and a relationship feels shaky. Trust can break your heart, but often we are forced into it. Every day we trust that the other people driving cars on the road will follow the laws. We trust that our bodies will do what they need to so we can keep going, we trust that the sun will rise and set, we trust that we will get a paycheck, the heat will work and the house will stay standing. And we have to see horrible stories on the news of frightened people fleeing and trust that we can still gather, send our kids to school and maintain hope in humanity. It can be hard.

          And yet, here we are, trusting each other with our prayers, our concerns, our hearts and our stories. Praying to God from the depths of our hearts and trusting that God hears our prayers. Daring to open our hearts in worship to beauty, to hope, to peace and to love, knowing that this world can break your heart.

          But this decision, this wild, bold, maybe foolish, vulnerable decision to trust … this is the origin story of our Savior. This trust is how God breaks into the world, takes on flesh and saves us. Matthew tells us that Jesus did not drop out of thin air, he did not triumphantly descend from the clouds on a throne, he did not fly in from a spaceship …. He was born of trust. God chose to work through human hearts, to quiet fears and invite trust. The origin story of the one we worship, the one we give our hearts to, involves a young couple holding onto a dream, trusting a vision.

          I wonder, where God is calling your heart to trust? Maybe to trust in God’s presence, the love of another, the possibility of peace or that word that we often keep trying to grab but keeps slipping through our fingers … hope.

          Remember, the story doesn’t end with a young couple trusting a vision. There is more to come. Joseph’s journey goes from confusion to trust to enlightenment. There is a star coming, a light to shine in the darkness, the angels are not done speaking. This story will go from one man’s dream, one women’s vision to enlightenment for the world and for ages to come. Trust opened the door for enlightenment.

 

          Our Advent journey is nearing its end. Maybe that brings nervousness, worry about unfinished shopping lists, unbaked cookies, unsent cards and unanswered emails to get to before everything closes. Or maybe it means a heart bursting with excitement like a child who thinks 4 days until Christmas is an impossibly long time to wait. Either way, I invite you to use these final days of Advent to look into your heart and see where God may be inviting you to trust. To reflect on how that word trust makes you feel, and gather the courage to keep the door open to God’s calling.

 

          It’s really all pretty wild. A young man finds out that the one he is engaged to is pregnant and in his confusion an angel tells him exactly what to do and then … he does it. He trusts. Mary too, trusts and together they embark on a journey. A journey that would result in a light like no one had ever seen. I wonder if after the confusion, the fear, the trust, the enlightenment, I wonder if Mary and Joseph looked at each other and said “that was wild … but it was also kind of fun.” Like my son and I did after he finished his math homework. And sure, middle-school math isn’t exactly ushering in the birth of Christ … but over and over again in life we are invited to open the door to trust and even though it may not go as we planned and our hearts may even get broken … God still enters that door, God still shows up … with a light that can never be extinguished so … stay tuned … because we are about to witness that light together and celebrate the next part of a wild story.

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[1][1] Harrington, Daniel. Sacra Pagina: Gospel of Matthew. Liturgical Press 2007. Pp. 34