Late post: Homily given on Dec. 21, 2025 @ St. Partrick's Parish Church, 9am, 11am and 4pm
Dear brothers and sisters, when we look around us, we cannot
deny that Christmas is already here. All the Christmas songs, Christmas carols,
Christmas parties, Christmas shopping, and some, if not most of us here, have
probably done Christmas exchange gifts in the office or within our close circle
of friends.
We also see here that all the four candles of Advent wreath
are lit. Christmas truly is very close. It is already here but not yet. Not yet
because in the words of St. John the Baptist, we are still in a time of
preparation, repentance, and waiting.
And this is why Advent is very important in the life of a
believer. It teaches us the art of holy waiting — not passive waiting, but the
kind of waiting that prepares a room in the heart for God’s promise and at the
same time, set before us on this 4th Sunday of Advent one more
invitation:
to hope that dares to
trust the impossible.
And the Church does something beautiful today to help us
prepare a room in our hearts and learn how to hope and trust the impossible –
she slows us down. She asks us not to rush ahead to the manger just yet, but to
stop…to listen… and to watch how God enters the world.
In the 1st reading, the prophet Isaiah captures
the tension between human fear and divine fidelity. In here, the faithless King
Ahaz, who was paralyzed by fear, chooses political maneuvering over trusting
God. When he refuses God’s invitation to ask for a miraculous sign during a
national crisis, God gave a sign anyway:
“Behold, the virgin shall
conceive and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.”
Imagine you are King Ahaz and hearing these words amid war
and political collapse. But Isaiah asks us to listen as God declares that
salvation begins:
·
not in power
·
not in armies
·
but in a woman’s womb.
God’s secret weapon — right there, hidden in the body of
someone no one expected.
Theologically, this "God with us" promise
signifies that salvation is a divine initiative, not a human achievement. It
shows us that God's grace persists even when human faith fails.
And then our gospel writer Matthew today brings us into the troubled
heart of Joseph. He begins with the premise that Joseph is a righteous man. A
man who loves God and Mary with integrity.
But now he stands in a storm of confusion: Mary is with
child… and it is not by him.
The plan is ruined…. the story is broken. His dreams for a
quiet, holy family life have just collapsed right in front of him.
He could have chosen the easy path — walk away…. protect his
own name…. avoid scandal…. continue life as expected. That would be a
reasonable thing to do.
But God…. brothers and sisters, does not always move in ways
that feel “reasonable.”
Joseph had a dream — a divine interruption — and that dream
offered him new choices:
· Stay.
· Trust.
· Welcome what you did not plan.
Let God’s future break into your life through this child. Let hope rewrite the ending.
My friends, Advent Hope, often feels like that — A risk…. A leap…. A “yes” into the unknown. Because God’s promises are rarely convenient. He does not wait for the perfect moment. He enters in the messiness of human stories: in family misunderstandings, in sleepless nights of anxiety, in fear of the future, and in the wounds we hide from others
Emmanuel does not mean “God above us” or “God ahead of us.” It means: God with us — right where we are trying to hold life together.
So today I want to speak especially to those who come here
with a heavy heart:
· Maybe this Christmas is the first without someone you love. Maybe a relationship is strained. Maybe the bills are piling up. Maybe you are carrying shame or fear that you cannot speak aloud. Maybe you feel like Joseph — confused by what God has allowed in your life.
But hear this truth: God has already stepped into that
place.
Your situation is the very manger where Jesus
desires to be born.
Joseph teaches us something vital - hope is trust that
God is doing something new, even when we cannot see it yet.
The dream does not tell Joseph how the story ends. But he allowed
that seemingly incomplete story to be bigger than his fear. And that is what
faith looks like.
This final Sunday of Advent challenges us to ask:
· Where is God inviting me to trust him in a new way?
· Who is God calling me to welcome?
· What fear must I surrender to allow Christ to enter my life more fully?
Maybe God is asking me to forgive someone I swore I would
never speak to again. Maybe the Lord is nudging me toward a decision I have
been avoiding. Maybe God is saying, “Do not be afraid — this child, this
promise, is from Me, and I do not make mistakes!”
Brothers and sisters, don’t be afraid to change direction
when God speaks.
Don’t be afraid to take Mary into your home — that is, to
embrace God’s plan even when it seems inconvenient…. Scandalous…. Confusing.
Joseph shows us that salvation depends on the small, quiet yes of a faithful heart. As Christmas draws near — only days away — let us prepare a place for Christ.
· Not a perfect place.
· Not a clean and organized place.
· But a real place, right here in our hearts where Emmanuel can be God-with-us in truth.
This week, I ask you to make one concrete act of Advent
hope. Just one. This maybe something inconvenient or something difficult to say.
Something that says to God: “Yes. I trust the impossible.”
· Maybe it’s a phone call.
· Maybe it’s a visit.
· Maybe it’s a prayer whispered in trembling.
· Maybe it’s offering forgiveness that feels difficult to say
One act of hope — that is enough to let Christ be born.
And when we gather here on Christmas Day, the Christ we
encounter in the manger will not be far away… He will be the God who has
already entered your story, already moved into the hidden corners of your life,
already whispering:
“Do not be afraid. I am with you.”
Emmanuel.
God with us.
God with you.
God with me.
Now and always.
Amen.
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