​Meditation
 
Those of you who know me know that I used to own a business. And here is what I know to be true:
 
One hundred people could tell me in one day how much they loved my business.
 
And still, if one person left a bad review or complained or said we were horrible, it was a lot easier to believe that one person than it was to believe the 100 others who loved us.
 
Studies show that it takes five positive messages to outweigh one negative message.
 
And yet, what do we get when we turn on our TV, or open social media, or glance at the news headlines?
 
Usually, it’s negative messages. Often, it’s not just negative messages, but it is messages of fear rather than hope or positivity.
 
In today’s world, it’s easy to believe that fear is louder than good news.
 
Fearful messages spread quickly, echo loudly, and linger longer than positive messages.
 
In a media world driven by algorithms and attention, fear thrives because it sells. It taps into our survival instincts.
 
We want to share fearful news because it makes us feel better to know that others are seeing it, too.
 
We cling to fear, whether we know it or not, and certainly whether we like it or not.
 
So, when the angel says to the shepherds in their field on that night long ago, “Do not be afraid,” and then declares, “good news of great joy for all people,” it’s not merely a sentimental moment.
 
It’s a revolutionary moment.
 
Here, good news is not Caesar’s victory, but God's vulnerability—made flesh in a newborn wrapped in bands of cloth and laid in a manger.
 
Good news may not always seem like it is louder than fear. But that’s the tension that we live in.
 
Like Mary—young, uncertain, and asked to carry more than she could have imagined.
 
Like Joseph—choosing to show up, even when it costs him reputation and comfort.
 
Like the shepherds—shaken awake in the night by glory and confusion.
 
The fear was real, and the risk was real.
 
The circumstances of Jesus’ birth—poverty, displacement, estrangement—are not erased by the angel’s song.
 
And yet, the good news comes anyway.
 
It comes with sound—loud and full of light.
 
It comes with bodies—angels taking up space in the sky, shepherds running through streets proclaiming glory, and Mary holding pain and promise in her arms.
 
It comes through fear, not after it.
 
Luke’s story insists that the good news of God
has weight and presence.
 
But it needs to be amplified. Proclaimed.
 
In a world where fear is curated and fed to us, proclaiming good news is a countercultural act.
 
In a world that tells marginalized communities to be quiet, that punishes joy and rage alike, joy becomes resistance.
 
The shepherds returned glorifying and praising God—they essentially became the first evangelists.
 
They tell anyone who will listen.
 
And the good news spreads—not through Caesar’s decrees, but through trembling, joyful witnesses.
 
Tonight, we are invited to do the same.
 
Not because our fear is gone—but because good news still breaks in.
 
Even when it’s quiet. Even when it’s messy. Even when it feels like the darkness will never end.
 
So let us proclaim the good news loudly.
 
Let us make space for joy that shakes the walls.
 
Let us resist fear’s domination by bearing witness to light, to peace, to Christ among us.
 
Because tonight, we remember:
 
Fear may be loud, but love is louder.
 
Violence may be strong, but hope is stronger.
 
And the good news—God is here—will not be silenced. Amen.
 
God of yesterday, today and tomorrow, we long to catch a glimpse of your Spirit. We cup our ears to hear the sound of the angel chorus. We turn our eyes toward the sky to see if we can find your star. We lean forward in our seat to see if we can feel your presence in our midst.  
 
We long to catch a glimpse of your Spirit, O God. So on this quiet night, on this holy night, on this joyful night, thank you for revealing yourself to us once more. Thank you for speaking to us through the music and the children.
 
Thank you for speaking to us through starlight and candlelight.
 
With gratitude, we catch a glimpse of you tonight and we feel your love. Amen.

The Message
 
On the First Sunday of Advent, when we began our sermon series titled, What Do You Fear?, we took time during worship to write down our fears.
 
Those fears were held in our sacred box and have been carried with us through our Advent journey.
 
And today, we have the opportunity to symbolically release those fears.
 
Originally when I began planning this sermon series, I thought maybe we would release our fears by burning them.
 
But that seemed like not the best idea, so I had to come up with a different (safer) method for releasing our fears.
 
But before we do that, I want to talk about what it means to move from fear to hope.
 
And, I’d like to use today’s scripture to do that.
 
Today, we heard how an angel appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him he could go ahead and marry Mary because the baby she was having was from the Holy Spirit.
 
As we can imagine, both Mary and Joseph must have been filled with fear.
 
In their world, having a baby out of wedlock was not safe for either of them.
 
They would both be shamed, ridiculed, and their lives might be in danger.
 
And yet, despite their fears, both Mary and Joseph decide to proceed forward.
 
They both say yes to divine intervention.
 
And in doing so, they don’t necessarily eradicate their fears.
 
Instead, they release their fears. They lift them to God and decide to trust God completely. They decide to trust that God has it under control.
 
And this trust in God makes room for hope. It isn’t that they are completely free from fear.
 
But they release that fear to God and move forward in hope – hope for a new life and a better world with the presence of the Son of God.
 
They don’t know where this path will take them, but they hold onto hope in the promised future nonetheless.
 
So today, I would like for us to follow their lead.
 
Let us take these fears that we thoughtfully and prayerfully wrote three weeks ago and let’s lift these fears to God.
 
Let us release them and trust that God will hold them for us.
 
And as we release these fears, let us move toward hope.
 
We may not be able to completely erase the fear, nor does God expect us to.
 
But as we release these fears to God, let us lift them in prayer and ask God to hold them on our behalf so we can make room for hope despite the fear.
 
When we wrote our fears, we used special paper. This paper is special because it dissolves in water.
 
So, as I place our fears into this bowl of water, I invite us all into a time of silence. Use this time to remember the fears you wrote, or perhaps new fears have come up in the past few weeks.
 
Pray over each person’s fears as we place them into the bowl of water and watch them dissolve.
 
Pray over your hope that comes out of your fears. Pray over the coming of the celebration of the birth of Jesus.
 
Pray over your hope for the Christmas season, and your hope for the New Year.
 
Pray over the fears of this community, and ask that God would hold those fears and move each of us gently toward hope.
 
Let us lift our fears to God during this time of silence as I symbolically release our fears by dissolving them in this water.
 
When this process is complete, I will ring our singing bowl.
 
*****
Now that we have released our fears to God, I want to suggest another activity that people can do during fellowship time if they wish.
 
This activity might be hard for some of us adults in the room.
 
But, I decided to offer this activity anyway because adults need opportunities to be creative and have fun, too.
 
Originally I was going to have us work on this during worship, but I realize that not everyone would enjoy doing it, and it would be tough for you to do without a table.
 
I’d just like to remind you that it’s supposed to be fun, and it is supposed to be a reminder that despite our fears, we can also be filled with hope.
 
And what better way to remind ourselves of our hope than to act like kids again for at least a few minutes.
 
So, if you would like, you can feel free to make an ornament that you are free to take home with you.
 
I suggest creating an ornament that reminds you of hope, but you can do whatever you’d like on your ornament.
 
There are plenty of markers available at the tables out in the fellowship area.
 
I would encourage you to try it, even just for a few minutes, and tap into your inner child.
 
Who knows what joy you might experience in doing a small project with others. If nothing else, it may be a reminder of our days of youth.
 
And in the meantime, as you leave here, where does your hope lie?
 
May you lift your fears to God and leave more room in your heart for hope.
 
May you allow that hope to swell and begin to displace your fears as you allow God to carry them for you.
 
May you move out of Advent and into the Christmas season with hope and joy in your hearts. Amen.
 
Let us pray:
​
Immanuel, God with us, this morning we turned off our alarm clocks. We poured cups of coffee or boiled water for tea. We slipped shoes onto our feet and combed back fly-away hairs. We bundled ourselves up to brave the cold.
 
We traveled to this room and settled into this space, all in hopes of drawing closer to you. So as we sit with each other in this sacred space, help us to feel your presence in our midst. We are reaching out our hands. We are reaching out our hearts. With love we pray, Amen. 
 
This sermon utilized the commentary by Rev. Dr. Boyung Lee  | A Sanctified Art LLC | sanctifiedart.org. Used with permission.

​Young at Heart Message
 
One year ago, on the Third Sunday of Advent 2024, we sat in this circle, and we imagined we were sitting around a pool of water.
 
We each received a stone with a positive affirmation on it, and we tossed it into our imaginary pool and imagined the ripples reaching out to each of us as we did so.
 
This year, I had a hard time coming up with something for our circle service. I prayed about it, and I asked God.
 
I knew that the main sermon would be focused on Mary and her willingness to say “yes” through doubt, fear, shame, ridicule – you name it.
 
On the First Sunday of Advent, we took time to name our fears before God, write them down, and place them into this sacred box.
 
And I will admit that I was surprised at how well people participated. I haven’t read any of your fears, and I will not be reading them. But I did notice that many of you took a good amount of time and put some thought into your responses.
 
And while I don’t know what those fears are, I do know that people have fears. I have fears. And what that tells me is that we could all probably use some affirmation that leans toward hope.
 
So today, before we get to our main sermon, I want to take a moment to pass around this basket. In this basket are folded pieces of paper. Please take a piece of paper from the basket, but do not unfold it until it is your turn.
 
Once everyone has a piece of paper, I’ll explain what we will be doing.
 
Now that everyone has a piece of paper, I want to go around the circle and have us take turns reading our paper. Don’t open your folded piece of paper until it’s your turn.
 
When it’s your turn, please read what is on your piece of paper. When each person is done reading, I want everyone to respond by saying, as enthusiastically as possible, the word “yes.”
 
I’ll demonstrate with mine, and then we will go around the circle and repeat the process. Ready?
 
Does God call me… even when I feel like I don’t belong?
 
YES!
 
(We will go around the room, so each person is able to read theirs and receive a “YES!” from the group.)
 
How did that feel?
 
The Message
 
Thank you everyone for participating and offering one another some positive affirmations, and perhaps even some hope as we continue to move steadily toward Christmas.
 
In today’s scripture passage, we have another example of a prominent figure in the Gospels responding in fear to the appearance of an angel.
 
We just recently heard how Zechariah initially responded to the angel who appeared to him with fear. And today we hear that Mary responds in a similar way.
 
And honestly, I think that tracks. If I were approached by an angel, I would be terrified, too. Or, at the very least, I would be extremely skeptical, and I would be wondering who was pranking me.
 
But imagine Mary’s situation for a moment. She’s young, she’s not married, and she’s living in a world controlled by patriarchal systems.
 
She’s not just casually dating Joseph. They are likely pursuing some kind of arranged marriage. There’s no ancient equivalent of online dating, and she certainly doesn’t have a choice about who she marries.
 
So, when an angel appears and says “hi Mary. Would you like to have God’s child?” – of course she’s scared. She’s maybe even afraid for her life.
 
To say “yes” to this proposal is not an easy feat. Saying “yes” to God means she’s risking her body, her future marriage, and even her life.
 
Most of us would not be willing to take such a risk without, at the very least, asking some questions.
 
Luckily, Gabriel does not punish her for questioning. Instead, he reassures her with a promise that God will intervene, and she will be protected.
 
Mary is essentially wondering if God will be with her if she goes through this. And she believes that the answer is a resounding “yes.” This enables her to respond with her own “yes.”
 
Mary moves through her fear. She doesn’t set it aside, but she moves forward faithfully despite her fear.
 
Mary isn’t going into this endeavor without any fear. She’s uncertain and she can’t see exactly how this is going to play out just yet. But she musters up the courage to say “yes,” even in the unknown.
 
Just like Mary, no one can predict the future. Most of us live our lives taking only minor risks. And most of us don’t want to take too many risks on a future we cannot possibly predict.
 
And yet Mary shows us that her trust in God is stronger than her fear. Mary is living her life just trying to survive a world that is not easy for women. And yet, her call arrived amid her attempts to merely survive.
 
I wonder how often God calls us to be brave, but we are unwilling to take the risk? Or, how often we are presented with an opportunity to accept God’s call, and we bravely move forward despite our fears?
 
Can you think of times in your own life when you have had one or the other? I know I can.
 
Speaking from my own experience, I know that taking risks when it feels like God is calling me has paid off, not just for me but, I hope also for God.
 
I would not be here in Calgary if I had been too afraid to lean in when God was nudging me to make a big change in my life. And Mary would not be the mother of Jesus if she had not leaned in when God called her to take a radical risk.
 
On the first Sunday of Advent, we asked what fears we are holding onto. Now, I ask you this: what invitation or risk are you resisting because you feel inadequate or afraid?
 
What would it mean to say “yes,” not fearfully or timidly, but confidently, with purpose and courage, because you have faith in God and in yourself?
 
In this circle today, we have received a resounding “yes” from our community and from God.
 
May you leave here today with the echo of Mary’s words in your heart: “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it happen as you have said.”
 
Go in peace to hear and respond to what God is calling for you to do, who God is calling you to be, or what God might be calling you to say. Amen.
 
Pastoral Prayer
 
Let us pray: God of Hope, thank you for loving us and understanding when we are too afraid to do what you are asking of us. When we are afraid to take a risk or walk through a door you have opened for us, guide our feet and ease our worries. We know we may not move forward without fear but help us overcome our fear with courage and faithfully say “yes” to your call. In your holy and loving name, we pray. Amen.