SOCL, Advent4A

Sunday December 21, 2025

See

Joseph planned an exit strategy. A good man crafting the kindest possible ending—proving that even our noblest intentions can be forms of self-protection. He'd mapped the escape route, calculated the social costs, chosen mercy over scandal. Then a dream dismantled everything.

Here's the pattern we'd rather not admit: we construct elaborate rationales for our retreats. We call it prudence when it's often just fear wearing better clothes. Joseph's righteousness almost became his limitation—until divine interruption showed him that true integrity sometimes means embracing what terrifies us, not engineering our way around it.

The angel didn't remove the scandal or simplify the impossible situation. The command was simpler and harder: stay. Stop solving. Stop managing optics. Take the risk that looks like ruin. Sometimes our most righteous plans are just sophisticated forms of running away, and the invitation to fuller life arrives precisely when we're backing toward the door.

Listen

Isaiah 7:10-14; Psalm 24 (23); Romans 1:1-7; Matthew 1:18-24

Reflect

(Matthew 1:18-24)

-Think about a situation you're currently trying to manage or control—perhaps a relationship that feels complicated, a responsibility that overwhelms you, or a future you're anxiously planning. What would it mean to stop engineering the perfect outcome and simply stay present to what's actually unfolding before you?

-Joseph's dream didn't make things easier; it made them possible. Jesus consistently taught that the kingdom comes not through careful calculation but through radical trust. How might your current struggle be less about finding the right solution and more about developing the courage to remain engaged when every instinct tells you to retreat?

-Consider where fear masquerades as wisdom in your life—where you've dressed up avoidance in the language of prudence or responsibility. What would change if you recognized that the thing you're most afraid of might actually be the doorway to a fuller version of yourself? How might staying with difficulty transform both you and your circumstances?

Pray

God of Impossible Beginnings, you enter our lives when we're planning exits. Break through our reasonable defenses and well-intentioned retreats. Give us courage to stay when wisdom says run, to embrace what terrifies when prudence counsels distance. Transform our communities where fear governs decision-making, our institutions where self-protection masquerades as righteousness. Make us brave enough to let you interrupt our best-laid plans.