24.12.2025
Saint Francis
St. Francis Lutheran Church
The Rev. Christian Jennert, Bridge Pastor
December 21, 2025
Texts: Isaiah 7:10–16; Psalm 80:1–7, 17–19; Romans 1:1–7; Matthew 1:18–25
Grace to you and peace from God, the source of all being, and from Jesus the Christ, whose coming is certain and whose day draws near.
Today when we lit the fourth candle of the wreath, we sang the fourth stanza of the familiar O Come, O Come, Emmanuel— a hymn shaped over centuries, with roots in ancient Latin texts and a melody that has carried the church’s longing across generations. With all who have gone before us, we sing and wait, rejoicing in the promise of the Child of God in our midst.
O come, O Branch of Jesse, free your own from Satan’s tyranny;
From depths of hell your people save,
And give them vict’ry o’er the grave.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel shall come to you, O Israel.
We are still journeying through Advent—now just days away from Christmas Eve, the holy night when the Church proclaims the miracle without comparison: God choosing to become one of us in the birth of Jesus.
On this Fourth Sunday of Advent, we wait, yearn, and hope for the God who has promised to be with us. That is what Emmanuel means: God with us.
And Emmanuel, God-with-us, does not arrive quietly or politely. God comes by way of interruption.
We fling wide the doors of our hearts for a God who takes on human flesh — a God who knows our struggles and our joys, who meets us not at a safe distance but face to face. A God who comes to us when we least expect it. A God who finds us when we may have given up looking. A God who interrupts life as usual.
The Gospel reading from Matthew makes this especially clear. Although Mary and Jesus are named first, it is Joseph who stands at the center of the story.
Joseph is afraid. He is afraid of what the law requires. Afraid of what the future holds. Afraid, perhaps, of what others will say about him. According to Deuteronomy, Mary’s pregnancy places both of them in grave danger. Joseph, described as a just man, does what he believes is right. He resolves to dismiss his betrothed Mary quietly, using the law to restore order to a life that has suddenly unraveled.
And then God interrupts him.
In a dream — where defenses are lowered and control is loosened—an angel speaks: “Do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife.” What Joseph believed to be the only faithful option turns out not to be the final word. God opens another way. (I love when that happens!)
Joseph awakens and chooses trust over certainty. He sets aside his carefully reasoned plan and embraces a future he cannot fully understand. His life is disrupted by God’s grace—and will never be the same again.
This is, at its heart, an Advent story. While Mary and Joseph are still waiting for the child to be born, everything has already changed. God’s promise has (1) interrupted their lives and (2) reoriented their future. And that is not only their story.
Over this past year, St. Francis has known something about holy interruption.
You have said goodbye to a pastor who served faithfully among you for eleven years. You have released into retirement a long-tenured music director whose ministry shaped worship and community. You have welcomed new pastoral leadership, new music staff, and new voices. Alongside gratitude and excitement, there has also been uncertainty — questions about what comes next, about continuity, about identity.
Transitions like these are not easy. They unsettle routines. They ask us to live with unanswered questions. And yet, Advent reminds us that such moments are not empty or wasted time. They are often the very places where God is at work.
I am so grateful for the ministry of Pastor Elizabeth — the bridge to the bridge — who has walked with you through an important first part of this transition. And I am humbled to be here now, accompanying you as you continue the journey and begin the call process. It is a privilege to walk with you in this holy season of discernment and trust.
This, too, is Advent — a season of joyful beginnings, even when those beginnings arrive through uncertainty and change.
Because Advent is not passive waiting. It is active trust. It is the work of joyful beginnings: learning to live faithfully when the future is not yet clear. It is discovering that God’s work does not stop during transitions, but often becomes more visible in them.
The ministry and mission of the Church continue. God’s calling to make Christ’s love known in word and deed does not pause while leadership changes. Emmanuel remains God-with-us steadily, faithfully, creatively present.
When we lit the fourth candle on the Advent wreath today, we might think of it as the candle of God’s holy surprise. The child we await interrupts our assumptions, disrupts our timelines, and opens possibilities we could not have planned.
Because of this child, we – all of us – are also called to become holy interruptions — bearing hope into weary places, practicing compassion in uncertain times, and trusting that God is already at work ahead of us.
With Joseph and Mary as our companions, may we journey toward Bethlehem in trust rather than fear. Along the way, may we recognize Emmanuel in one another, in moments of change, and in the steady faithfulness of this community.
For our God comes to us — again and again — as a holy surprise, inviting us into joyful beginnings shaped by trust rather than fear.
Amen.
