Hi everyone,
Welcome to worship for this 4th Sunday of Advent, landing on December 21, 2025!
The bulletin for this service can be found here. In it, you’ll find the order and words of worship and the full sermon manuscript. You can use the bulletin to follow along with the service, but alternatively the words that you need to know will show up on your screen and the sermon is included on this page under the video.
For a fuller online worship experience, you are welcome to have a candle in your space, lit for most of the service but extinguished near the end after the sending hymn, when the altar candles are extinguished. You are also welcome to participate in communion if you are comfortable, by having something small to eat and drink prepared for consumption. Further instruction will be given at the appropriate time.
May God’s unending love, joy, peace, and hope be with you for the remainder of this season and always!
Speak to us, O God, that our hearts might burn for more of you in our lives, through Jesus Christ. Amen.
It’s not every year that the 4th Sunday of Advent lands exactly on the winter solstice. I looked it up and the last time these two dates coincided was back in like 2014. It’s not an exact schedule for various reasons as you know, but it happens roughly every 5 to apparently 11 years. So not super rare per se, but enough that I’m taking the time to talk about it now.
I’m assuming that we all know what I mean when I say winter solstice, yeah? The beginning of the winter season? It’s the point of Earth’s orbit, at least here in the Northern Hemisphere, when the sun is in the sky for the shortest amount of time. And because our orbit isn’t an exactly 365-day cycle, the solstice varies, give or take a day or so. But what all that comes down to is, today is essentially the darkest day of the year.
And perhaps this day, this time, this point in our history is dark for reasons other than less literal light beating down on our land from a celestial ball of burning gas.
What I mean is, it’s been a tough year, hasn’t it? For us as individuals and as a congregation, we’ve been having a real tough go. We’ve had deaths, illnesses, just a lot of brokenness and hurt. We’ve felt deflated, we’ve been uncertain of the future, and we just seem to be really tired of it all. I’m willing to bet that more than one of us have metaphorically thrown our arms up in frustration and wondered why.
And it’s not just us, but we see it around our cities, our country, and our world. There is just so much political turmoil, war, and injustice running rampant. Just last week we heard of these horrendous acts of hatred on the opposite side of the planet in Australia. And while news like that gets more headlines, we know that sadly that kind of hate isn’t unique or rare. Rather, it happens daily. In all contexts. Maybe more subtle, maybe not as violent, but no less nefarious and painful.
Why are all these things happening? Why are we going through this? Why is life so dark?
And this isn’t a new phenomenon at all, is it? It isn’t just localised to this point in history. But every generation that has ever lived since the beginning of time has known hardship, has suffered loss, and has felt this darkness.
A darkness that is persistent. A darkness that permeates in pretty much all areas of life. A darkness that reaches every person in every culture, without any prejudice whatsoever. It is, so it seems, inevitable.
Our bibles are testament to this. This collection of ancient stories that describe the human experience from a different period of time, coming from a different perspective, offering perhaps a different paradigm from our own. Different, yes, but starkly familiar and understandable and relatable to any one of us who has eyes to see and ears to hear.
Take today’s gospel lesson for example. We hear about Joseph, the human father of Jesus, and his mental and emotional rollercoaster in trying to navigate what likely was seen as disappointment, betrayal, and that darkness that I just spent like roughly 500 words describing. I mean, he just learned that his fiancée, the one to whom he was betrothed, the woman that he looking forward to spending the rest of his life with, was pregnant. And by his reaction, I take it that it wasn’t by him.
This must have been so unexpected. This wasn’t part of the plan. This was enough for Joseph to abandon the life that he was hoping to have, albeit in the most polite way possible. And who wouldn’t? Well, maybe not the polite part, but who, after hearing such earth-shattering news, wouldn’t want to just give up? Change direction? Do what needs to be done to get over it and start fresh?
Like it wouldn’t be hard to buckle under that brokenness. To be overwhelmed by that kind of ordeal. To be just defeated by this encapsulating and overcoming darkness.
While we don’t know exactly what Joseph was going through other than how it’s described in the text, the feelings we imagine he’s having sure sound familiar. Maybe we’ve gone through similar situations. Maybe the same exact situation. But they are feelings that were likely had by us all at some point. We’ve been there. We’ve felt this darkness. We know what it’s like to be lost and unsure as to what the future will hold. And that could take the wind out of our sails. We could be left deflated, dejected, and despondent. We might wish that whatever it was that happened just didn’t happen. It would have been easier, more comfortable, and better if things had just stayed as they were. But the fact of the matter is that whatever happened did happen, and if it didn’t, it probably will eventually. Difficulties, disruptions, darkness… again, all inevitable. And it’s not exactly comfortable or wanted. But they will happen.
As you may know, I serve on the currently named Facing Today – Dreaming for the Future committee for our National Church of the ELCIC, that’s actually where I was last week instead of being here. And as I’ve explained before, this committee is tasked to do exactly what that very wordy name states, we look at who we are as a church today… with all the shortcomings, all the struggles, and all the unfortunate shrinkage, and we dream about what we can be in the future, not just to survive but how we can be more faithful to who we are and our call to be God’s people in this part of the world. This might mean change. This probably will lead to a shift of some kind. And from what I’ve heard so far, it has also caused some discomfort.
And I get it, change is hard. We don’t always like it. We’d like to keep things the same. But the thing is, change is happening with or without us. No matter what our feelings are about it, the world is different from what it was. And the feelings that will come up because of it all are inevitable.
Can it be overwhelming? For sure, much of life is like that. But just because it can be, that doesn’t mean that it’s bad or damaging or even unnecessary. Rather, it means that there is hope. Hope for a brighter future. Hope that leads us to a peace in knowing that while we’re in what we’re in, we know that our position and regard in God’s family remains unchanged. And this peace might stir in us a joy that reveals that no matter where life has us, where our situations have put us, or how deep we are in that darkness, we are dearly loved beyond measure.
All that doesn’t take away the darkness per se, but it does remind us that the light is stronger, and able to dispel the darkness enough for us to see and feel that empowering love.
And I think that’s what changed Joseph’s mind about leaving what he probably assumed was an unfaithful life partner. I mean, the talking angel probably helped, but I think it was the realisation that the darkness doesn’t last, that love prevails, and that God is, has always been, and always will be with us. This might not have taken away all of his feelings that he was feeling, but it probably helped him to further trust in God’s hand of providence, leading and guiding him through the messiness of life, and revealing to him the light of God’s love.
I don’t know what the future holds for me, this church, or the whole of the ELCIC. I wish I did. I don’t know how to solve all our problems. I wish I could. I don’t even know if I’ll be around long enough to see anything through. I hope I will be. But I do know, as sure as the days are getting brighter at least for the next 6-ish months, that God is with us even in the darkness. God is with us through all of whatever it is that we are facing. God is with us, in hope, in peace, in joy, and in love.
There’s a reason that the winter solstice can sometimes land on the 4th Sunday of Advent. There’s a reason that the proximity of our recognition of God Incarnate entering into the world and the shortest day of the year is so close. There’s a reason that we can celebrate the light in the darkness, because this is a light that the darkness cannot overcome. That even when things can seem so awful, so broken, so dark, we can trust in a brighter tomorrow as we continue to better recognise the presence of the Christ, the Emmanuel, the God With Us.
So on this final Sunday of Advent, as we look forward to the coming birth of the Christ child on Christmas, may we hold onto the hope, peace, joy, and love of this season and be open to accept God’s promises, gifts, and grace today and throughout the year. Thanks be to God. Amen.
