For many people, these last few days before Christmas are full of frantic energy. Normally kind and reasonable people will run you over in the parking lot of malls, grocery stores, and the post office if you get in their way. Everyone has a list a mile long and only a short time to do it all, which can create a sort of tunnel vision. Our first reading from Isaiah takes place about 700 years before the birth of Jesus but exposes a similar, anxious spirit.
You might picture this scene a bit like The Lord of the Rings, when Gandalf finally confronts King Théoden in the throne room of Rohan. Théoden is a king, a descendant of greatness, but he no longer looks like one. His hall is dark, lifeless, and stripped of its former beauty. He sits slumped on the throne, paralyzed by fear and exhaustion, while Wormtongue whispers poisoned counsel into his ear; half-truths, manipulations, and advice that sounds reasonable but slowly drains the king of courage and hope. Théoden thinks he is being prudent, but in reality, he is being controlled by fear and foolishness.
This image helps us understand King Ahaz in our first reading. Like Théoden, Ahaz sits on a throne that should represent confidence in God’s promises, yet his kingdom feels dim and fragile. Voices swirl around him from political advisors, military strategists, foreign powers…all whispering solutions rooted in human conniving. Fear has narrowed his vision and made him rely on himself instead of God. Instead of ruling freely as a son of David, Ahaz is spiritually weakened, unable to imagine a future that doesn’t depend on armies, alliances, or payoffs.
When Isaiah arrives, he is like a Gandalf figure, calling the king back to faith in God with the words of the first reading. His message is clear and unsettling: Don’t put your trust in armies, politics, wealth, or clever deals. These are human solutions, and they will fail. Even the Assyrians, fearsome as they are, are only human. They are no match for God. Isaiah urges the king to turn to the Lord and to dream big. “Ask for a sign from the Lord, your God; let it be deep as the netherworld, or high as the sky!”
In other words: Invite God into this. Let Him lead.
What does Ahaz do? In a moment that sounds humble but really isn’t, he responds, “I will not ask! I will not tempt the Lord!” What looks like piety is actually pride. Ahaz has already decided how this crisis will be handled and God’s plan interferes with his own. He’s afraid that trusting God would require letting go of control so he puts God on the back burner.
Isaiah’s frustration boils over: “Listen, O house of David! Is it not enough for you to weary people; must you also weary my God?” And then comes the astonishing promise: “The Lord himself will give you this sign: the virgin shall conceive and bear a son, and shall name him Emmanuel.”
To Ahaz and his court, this must have sounded like madness. A virgin giving birth? A child who would somehow save God’s people? That seemed far less realistic than armies, treaties, and political strategy. Ahaz could only think in worldly terms, so God’s plan felt impossible. In effect, Ahaz says, “Thanks, God but I’ve got this handled.” His decision ends in disaster: betrayal, defeat, and immense suffering for his people.
That brings us to the Gospel… and to a very different response.
Matthew places before us another descendant of David: Joseph. Unlike Ahaz, Joseph has no throne, army, or power. He is simply described as a “righteous man”, which tells us everything.
Joseph also had his life planned out. He was engaged to Mary. His future was clear and respectable…until everything fell apart. Mary is found to be with child. Matthew gives us very few details, but we can easily imagine the confusion, heartbreak, and fear Joseph must have felt.
Then God intervenes, not dramatically but with a dream. An angel reveals the truth and asks Joseph to do something that will cost him dearly: trust God completely. Joseph doesn’t argue. He doesn’t demand proof. He doesn’t cling to his own plan. He wakes up and does exactly what the angel tells him. Matthew tells us about four dreams Joseph receives, each one requiring him to change course. Joseph’s righteousness isn’t flashy. It’s quiet obedience. Spiritual flexibility. A willingness to let God rewrite the script.
That’s the contrast Advent places before us today.
Ahaz and Joseph both receive an invitation from God. One refuses because he wants control and feels like only he can fix the problem. The other accepts because he trusts that God’s plan, however confusing or messy, is better than his own.
Advent asks us the same question: Which one will you be?
Like Ahaz, we can rely solely on our own strategies, keep God at arm’s length, and say, “Thanks God, I’ve got this handled.” Or, like Joseph, we can remain open, docile, and courageous enough to let God interrupt and re-write our plans.
As we enter these final days of Advent, may we ask St. Joseph to help us grow in righteousness: the kind that listens, trusts, and acts. May we be willing to set aside our plans and allow God to work in ways that surprise us. Like Joseph, may we become protectors of others and faithful partners in God’s saving work as we await the birth of Emmanuel: God with us.
