4th Sunday of Advent, Year A

Two weeks ago, on the Solemnity of the Immaculate Conception, we heard the Gospel account of Mary receiving the news of her pregnancy from the Angel Gabriel. Today’s Gospel passage tells us the story of Joseph receiving the same news. It's not a stretch to imagine, knowing this is not his child, that he might have been filled with a range of emotions as this news settles in, with these emotions giving way to a pervasive feeling that his world — and Mary's — have been irreparably changed.
Perhaps, maybe more than likely, he wrestled with this news as a weight-settled-in the-pit-of-his-stomach nameless opponent in fitful sleep until, in a dream, the Angel of the Lord appeared and named that opponent, saying, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid.” Fear — Joseph is wrestling with fear. Fear for himself. Fear for Mary. Fear of a changed and unknown future. Joseph's fear, and the comforting by the angel of the Lord, mirror Mary’s same fear and comforting by the Angel Gabriel when she received the same news.
I don’t think it's a coincidence that the Church gives us bookend accounts of the Annunciation and this parallel comforting message from God to not be afraid twice in Advent, here in these days of waning light and nights of growing darkness. Fear is part of the human condition, and God’s continual assurance to not be afraid is a testament to God’s desire for us — to be free from the shackles of fear. The most common phrase throughout Scripture is, “Be not afraid.”
When I was in formation to become a deacon, I was assigned to assist as a hospital chaplain at Albany Med for a few overnights with a deacon serving as the regular overnight chaplain. One of these nights came after a blistering hot day in August. As we began our shift that evening, we gathered in the pastoral care office at Albany Med to obtain the list of patients to visit, some requesting Communion and some simply requesting a visit from the chaplain. There was the name of a woman to visit; nothing noted other than a room number.
As we approached the room where we were to find this woman, the deacon I was with remarked to me offhand, “This must be a pregnancy complication. The normal pregnancies are all on lower floors.” As we entered the dimly-lit room, I immediately sensed a pervasive weight in the room: things were not alright. Accentuating the atmosphere was the spectacular electrical storm raging outside that night, lightning filling the panoramic window of the maternity room.
We were introduced to the woman on our list: a young mother, her husband, their new baby girl, their first child. Here in this room in Albany Med was a Holy Family. The new mother shared that she had complications in the pregnancy and that she had developed a massive blood clot and was going into surgery the following morning. The lightning bolts arcing across the sky were like the huge red dragon described in the Book of Revelation awaiting the woman to give birth to the child; each bolt was its tail, sweeping away the stars of the night sky. It seemed the dragon was raging at this Holy Family, and as evident on their faces, raging within this Holy Family. And the dragon’s name was Fear.
When we told them that we had brought Communion and asked if they wanted to receive, they were grateful and responded they very much wanted to receive. It was clear at that moment that the Presence of Christ in the Eucharist was a gift of great consolation to them, as their fears gave way to tears of relief and release. They were not alone; Jesus, Emmanuel — God is with us — was with them in the midst of the storm in their life that night and calmed their sea of fear. God was with them, just like he was with Joseph and Mary those nights some two thousand-plus years ago when the Angels of the Lord said to both of them, “Do not be afraid.” God is with us.
What are the dragon-storms of our lives threatening to devour us? Do we, like Joseph and Mary, need to hear God’s message, “Do not be afraid”? Do we need to quiet the din of our lives in order to hear God’s message? Do we need to reconnect with the peaceful presence of God in our midst, accepting God’s message, and like Mary and Joseph, entrusting our fears to God, allowing Him to displace fear in the midst of our storms? Fear does not have the last word; Jesus Christ does, he who dispels the darkness. Emmanuel — God is with us. God is with us now, and God is faithfully with us forever.




