Making Room: Advent, Dissonance, and God-With-Us

Based on the sermon by Mother Susan
St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Del Mar

By the fourth Sunday of Advent, it can feel like Christmas has already happened—twice. Decorations went up before Thanksgiving, holiday playlists have been looping for weeks, and the pressure to feel festive is everywhere. And yet, Advent asks us to slow down just a little longer.

At St. Peter’s, we intentionally resist rushing ahead. Advent is not about denying joy—it’s about making room for it.

Mother Paige named it well in her Christmas letter: we live in a time of dissonance. We know the story already—Jesus has lived, died, and risen. And yet we also live amid conflict, violence, anxiety, and uncertainties that press in from every direction. Advent sits right in the middle of that tension. It reminds us that waiting, longing, and preparing are not failures of faith—they are part of it.

Outside these walls, Christmas may already be in full swing. Inside, in worship and prayer, Advent invites us to listen more closely to what God might be saying amidst the noise.

Faith Shows Up in Ordinary Places

One of the holy surprises of Advent is that God doesn’t only meet us in sanctuaries. Sometimes God shows up on an average Tuesday – at a Christmas tree lot, for example.

Recently, while picking out a tree with my family, I made an offhand comment about needing something in the “six-to-seven-foot range.” The young man helping us burst out laughing—delighted that I knew the lingo. He noticed my cross necklace, and before long he shared something unexpected: he had just returned to church and had a lot of questions.

We didn’t have time to answer them all. But the moment stayed with me. In this season of preparation, you never know who is watching, listening, or quietly wondering if God might still have something to say to them.

Advent reminds us that simply showing up—grounded, open, faithful—can be a form of witness.

Emmanuel: God With Us – Really

The scriptures we hear in Advent are filled with hope rooted in real human lives. Isaiah speaks of a child whose birth will signal peace and security. Matthew echoes that promise, naming Jesus as Emmanuel—God with us.

Not God far away.
Not God waiting for us to get it right.
God with us.

That matters because so many other “signs” in life can feel ambiguous. Success, stability, even happiness can come and go. But in Jesus, God’s presence is unmistakable. God enters human vulnerability—not symbolically, but fully.

And that brings us to two very human people: Mary and Joseph.

Joseph’s Quiet, Brave “Yes”

We often talk about Mary’s courage—and rightly so. But Joseph’s faith deserves attention too.

By the standards of his time, Joseph had every reason to walk away. It was the law in those days that if his betrothed became pregnant before their official marriage, he had every right to dissolve the engagement. Instead, described as a righteous man, Joseph chose compassion. Even before the angel appeared, he was already trying to protect Mary from public shame. And when God spoke to him in a dream, Joseph listened—and acted.

He stayed.
He committed.
He risked everything.

Joseph became a protector, provider, and partner in a story far bigger than himself. He walked with Mary to Bethlehem. He raised Jesus. He lived a faith that didn’t draw attention to itself, but shaped the world all the same.

It’s no accident that Joseph is now remembered as the patron saint of migrants, workers, families, and fathers. His holiness wasn’t flashy—it was faithful.

Preparing a Dwelling Place

One of the Advent prayers we’ve been hearing asks God to “stir up your power” and to purify our consciences, so that Christ might find in us a dwelling place.

Not a perfect house.
Not a life with everything figured out.
A place where God is welcome.

That kind of preparation starts with honesty—about our limits, our weariness, and how deeply we need God. Joseph wasn’t perfectly righteous on his own. Neither are we. Advent invites us to stop pretending otherwise.

The Spirit of God doesn’t just create, but recreates, breathing life back into tired souls; reviving hopes we thought were gone; and restoring kindness where it has worn thin.

Conclusion

As Christmas draws near, Advent asks us for something countercultural: Quiet. Reflection. Space.

At St. Peter’s, we believe faith grows best in community—in a place where questions are welcome, where ancient stories still speak, and where God meets us in the midst of real life.

What’s your biggest question?