Koonung Heights Uniting Church
Service of Worship at Home
When you’re afraid, give me your hand.
Advent 4 – 21 December, 2025 – 10am or whenever possible
You may like to light a candle during your time of worship.
Feel free to text the Peace to other members of the congregation.
Introit: O Come, O Come, Emmanuel – (Words © Susan Wickham 2021 – Tune TiS 265)
O Advent God of hope, joy, love and peace,
in you we pray our sad divisions cease.
Bind us as one, a people of grace,
for at your table each one has a place.
Rejoice! Rejoice!
Emmanuel shall come to us and in our hearts will dwell.
Lighting the Christ Candle:
As we come to worship today,
we light this candle
to remind ourselves of the light of Christ,
especially in this time of darkness,
a light that is both within and among us.
Let us do all we can to carry that light into the world.
Acknowledgement of Country:
This is God’s land and God’s Spirit dwells here.
I acknowledge the Wurundjeri WoiWurrung
People of the Kulin nation,
traditional custodians of this land under God.
Let us commit ourselves again
to working for reconciliation in this land.
Call to Worship:
Here in worship –
we pray together,
we stand together,
we sing together,
we listen together.
Here in worship we are not alone.
So when life gives you reason to grieve, to fear, or to worry,
remember this moment.
We are not alone.
Let us worship our with-us God.
Advent Candle:
In a world full of fear,
where do you see the presence of love?
We see love all around us.
We see love when people hold open the door.
We see love in a warm embrace,
a homemade casserole, a phone call after a long day.
We see love in random acts of kindness
and intentional acts of empathy.
We see love all around us.
You are right. Even in a fearful world,
love is all around us.
As well as the candles of hope, peace and joy,
today we light the candle of love
as a reminder of this good news.
May this flicker of light help us remember
that even in a fearful world, love is here.
Love is world-changing. Love is shining bright.
We only have to look for it.
Thanks be to God for a love like that!
Amen.
We Sing: Light one candle – (TiS 286)
Light one candle for hope, one bright candle for hope.
He brings hope to every heart. He comes! He comes!
Light one candle for peace, one bright candle for peace.
He brings peace to every heart. He comes! He comes!
Light one candle for joy, one bright candle for you.
Every nation will find salvation in Bethlehem’s baby boy.
Light one candle for love, one bright candle for love.
He brings love to every heart. He comes! He comes!
Call to Prayer:
Earlier this week, we witnessed the tragic and deeply distressing events which took place in Bondi. We have carried heavy hearts because of that. We have felt many things, maybe shock, fear, anger, grief and unease. It is hard to know how to respond, but we need to remember that stopping hatred starts with each one of us.
Friends, every day we are given choices –
the choice to be a friend, to be an ally, to extend a welcoming hand.
Some days it is easy to know how to do that, other days it is not.
Yet always, we have the opportunity to bring our concerns before God.
And as we do, we can enter into a transformative moment,
we can receive grace and practice the art of forgiveness.
I invite you to a moment of prayer. I will pray the prayer written by Uniting Church President Rev Charissa Suli. Following that we will sing together and anyone who wishes is invited to come forward and light a candle.
Let us pray …
God of mercy and peace,
we come to you with hearts that are tired and grieving.
We entrust to you the lives lost, the wounded,
and all who are holding sorrow this day.
Surround the Jewish community
and all who have been affected
with comfort, safety, and hope.
Strengthen those who serve and protect,
and grant wisdom and gentleness
to all who lead and respond.
In a world shaken by violence,
teach us again the way of Christ –
the way of love, courage, and peace.
Hold us, heal us, and lead us forward.
Amen.
We Sing: Comfort, comfort – (TiS 647)
Comfort, comfort all my people with the comfort of my Word.
Speak it tender to my people: all your sins are taken away.
Though your tears be rivers running, though your tears be an ocean full,
though you cry with the hurt of living: comfort, comfort.
Every valley shall be lifted, every mountain shall be low,
every rough place will be smoother: comfort, comfort.
Comfort, comfort …
Though your eyes see only darkness, though your eyes can see no light,
though your eyes see pain and sorrow, comfort, comfort.
Every night will have its morning, every pain will have an end,
every burden will be lightened: comfort, comfort.
Comfort, comfort …
Prayer of Thanksgiving and Confession:
God of all, Source, Son and Spirit,
we give you thanks for all the ways you come close to us:
in dreams and visions and the mystery of existence,
in the words of ancient texts and from the mouths of children,
in the busyness of getting ready and the quiet after a storm.
In our grief and gladness, in our waking and sleeping,
in our paying attention and in our drifting off,
in our birthing and our dying you always come near to us.
Thank you for your undying love,
and for coming to us in Jesus, so we might come closer to you.
In our living we have opportunities to choose the way of love,
the way of compassion, the way of peace,
and yet, we confess that we often fail.
Too easily we can walk a path of hate, exclusion, fear and retribution.
We ask for your forgiveness, and a change of heart.
God who is love,
help us pause before we act,
hold silence before we speak,
and stay our actions until we can respond in love.
In Jesus’ name we pray,
Amen.
Words of Assurance:
Siblings in Christ, know this:
God sent Jesus into the world, not to condemn us,
but so that we might know life in all its fullness.
We are forgiven and free to live in love.
Thanks be to God.
The Peace:
May the Peace of God dwell with you:
and also with you.
Bible Reading: Isaiah 41:5-10
5 The coastlands have seen and are afraid;
the ends of the earth tremble;
they have drawn near and come.
6 Each one helps the other,
saying to one another, “Take courage!”
7 The artisan encourages the goldsmith,
and the one who smooths with the hammer
encourages the one who strikes the anvil,
saying of the soldering, “It is good,”
and they fasten it with nails so that it cannot be moved.
8 But you, Israel, my servant, Jacob, whom I have chosen,
the offspring of Abraham, my friend;
9 you whom I took from the ends of the earth and called from its farthest corners,
saying to you, “You are my servant; I have chosen you and not cast you off”;
10 do not fear, for I am with you; do not be afraid, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you; I will help you; I will uphold you with my victorious right hand.
Bible Reading: Matthew 1:18-25
– The Birth of Jesus the Messiah
18 Now the birth of Jesus the Messiah took place in this way. When his mother Mary had been engaged to Joseph, but before they lived together, she was found to be pregnant from the Holy Spirit. 19 Her husband Joseph, being a righteous man and unwilling to expose her to public disgrace, planned to divorce her quietly. 20 But just when he had resolved to do this, an angel of the Lord appeared to him in a dream and said, “Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take Mary as your wife, for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit. 21 She will bear a son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.” 22 All this took place to fulfill what had been spoken by the Lord through the prophet:
23 “Look, the virgin shall become pregnant and give birth to a son,
and they shall name him Emmanuel,”
which means, “God is with us.” 24 When Joseph awoke from sleep, he did as the angel of the Lord commanded him; he took her as his wife 25 but had no marital relations with her until she had given birth to a son, and he named him Jesus.
Reflection:
‘Take my hand, you know I’ll be there, if you can, I’ll cross the sky for your love.
Rise up, rise up with wings like eagles, you run, you run, you’ll run and not grow weary.
Take my hand. This love lasts forever.’
These words are from U2’s song ‘Drowning Man’, and are some poignant lines about enduring support and the promise of love through tough times. In our theme this week, we’re imagining the similar directive, ‘give me your hand’, from several perspectives.
We might imagine Joseph speaking these words to Mary and Mary offering them back in return. We might imagine God whispering this to us, and us speaking it aloud to someone who needs solidarity and support. ‘Give me your hand’ is at once a plea for help and a gesture of support, and living in mutuality means that sometimes we are the one in need and sometimes we are the giver of aid.
So as we engage with the readings this week, and in light of what is going on in our community, let us not let fear divide and isolate us, but instead let it be a catalyst for connection. Might we also think of our responsibility to our neighbours. Action, risk and solidarity are critical elements of Christian love. How might we use the power and privilege we possess to stand in solidarity with others?
Fear flows quietly beneath Matthew’s nativity story, though it is never far from view. It surfaces in Joseph’s impulse to ‘dismiss Mary quietly’ (Matthew 1:19), in the angel’s first words, ‘Do not be afraid’ (Matthew 1:20), and in the precarious world into which Jesus is born – an unwed mother, a fragile family, and an empire that meets any threat with surveillance, violence, and control. Joseph’s fear is easy to overlook, perhaps because the narrative highlights his dream, obedience, and place in Jesus’ lineage. But his fear is not abstract – it is rooted in a web of social and political risk. To take Mary in would expose him to public disgrace and religious judgment. In a world where women could be stoned for suspected adultery, Mary’s pregnancy was more than scandalous – it was dangerous.
Joseph’s response becomes about more than personal integrity; it becomes an act of courageous solidarity. Joseph could have stepped back. But instead, he steps in. He does not fix everything. He does not erase the risk, but he chooses to share it. He says, in effect:
‘You don’t have to go through this alone. Give me your hand and we will walk together.” This is not the language of saviourism but of accompaniment. It’s what we might call a theology of proximity – where faithfulness means drawing near to the vulnerable and aligning ourselves with those at risk, even when we are afraid ourselves.
As the angel reminds Joseph, ‘Do not be afraid … for the child conceived in her is from the Holy Spirit’ (Matthew 1:20). God is already at work and Joseph is invited to join in, not as a hero, but as a partner. In a world defined by empire, masculinity, and honour-shame boundaries, Joseph’s posture is striking and a quiet act of resistance. Joseph lays aside patriarchal expectation and legalistic judgment, choosing instead to protect Mary and the unborn child. In doing so, he becomes a quiet but vital part of God’s liberating plan.
This is not only personal, it is also profoundly political. Herod, Rome’s puppet king, is watching. Any child born and called ‘King of the Jews’ challenges the status quo. Herod’s response – deception, surveillance, and eventually violence – follows a familiar imperial pattern. Yet God responds not with might, but through dreams, courage, and embodied resistance. Joseph becomes not only a guardian of Mary’s dignity, but a protector of Jesus’ life.
We might imagine a quiet moment between Mary and Joseph. She has already said yes to God, but that yes didn’t make her fearless. She still needs a companion. She still needs someone to walk beside her. Joseph, moved by divine whisper, reaches through his own fear to offer his presence.
This story is not just about them. It is also about us. There are people in our communities today who, like Mary, carry something sacred and heavy – something that puts them at risk. Perhaps it’s their identity, their truth, their calling, or their hope. There are others, like Joseph, who hold more security, more safety, more voice. Advent invites us not simply to “be not afraid’, but to act with love in the midst of fear. Not to fix everything, but to show up with courage. To reach out and say: ‘Give me your hand.’
This kind of love – grounded in risk, humility, and faith – is what Isaiah evokes: ‘Each one helps the other, saying to one another, “Take courage!” Do not fear for I am with you’ (Isaiah 41:6, 10)
God’s work in the world unfolds not through lone heroes, but through the joined hands of those who choose relationship over self-protection, accompaniment over certainty, and presence over perfection. Mary’s “yes” mattered. So did Joseph’s. So does ours.
As we move into the final days of Advent, let us ask ourselves: Who is carrying something sacred and heavy, quietly in danger? What fear might we be called to move through, not for our sake, but for the sake of others? How might our love, fragile, imperfect and real, become the ground where God’s promise takes hold?
We are not asked to fix the world, but to take each other’s hands and walk forward into it together. While it can be tempting to turn away and isolate ourselves, let us instead embody Joseph’s humility, tenacity and courage, and extend an outstretched hand.
Amen.
We Sing: We’re Not Alone – (Tune TiS 304)
Fear all around you tells you you’re alone,
urging you to build walls and isolate.
I know your fear because I feel it, too.
When fear grows deep inside us, remember what unites us.
No, nothing can divide us; we’re not alone.
Give me your hand to hold when you feel frightened,
we can uphold each other in our fear.
Person by person, we’ll find strength together.
When fear grows deep …
When people live in fear for their safety,
let us put our privilege on the line for them.
Stand with our siblings in solidarity.
When fear grows deep …
Forward we march together toward God’s kin-dom,
building a bigger table, not taller walls.
Working together, nothing is impossible.
‘When fear grows deep …
Prayer for Others (from Sanctified Art resources):
Ever-reaching, with-us God,
we don’t always know the words to pray.
We stumble over our words.
We meander in our thoughts.
We fail to be eloquent when we try.
But no matter our words,
we know that you are listening.
So today, holy God,
we want to say thank you for the “reachers.”
Thank you for the people in our life who have reached for us when we have needed it most.
Thank you for friends and family, for Sunday school teachers and confirmation mentors,
for therapists and school chaplains, for neighbours and attentive strangers.
Thank you for the people, who like Joseph, chose to reach for us
and stay by our side when we needed it most.
We pause to remember their names and faces now,
and to silently lift these individuals to you in gratitude.
(Moment of silence.)
Holy One, while we count our blessings, we also pray for those who face their fear alone.
We pray for those who do not have a Joseph in their life.
In particular, we remember those in isolation gaol cells, and for those in medical quarantine.
We pray for single parents, and for widowers.
We pray for immigrants and foreign exchange students,
who so often feel alone in a new country.
We pray for those who feel isolated by their grief, their addiction, or their mental health.
Show us how to reach across dividing lines.
Show us how to walk with each other, on the good days and the bad.
Show us how to see each other.
Show us how to reach for each other.
As you do, like Joseph, we will do our best to walk each other home.
With hope for a better tomorrow, we pray the words your son taught us to pray, saying …
Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name;
Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our sins
as we forgive those who sin against us.
Save us from the time of trial and deliver us from evil.
For the Kingdom, the power, and the glory are yours now and forever.
Amen.
We Sing: Community of Christ – (TiS 473)
Community of Christ, who make the Cross your own,
live out your creed and risk your life for God alone:
the God who wears your face, to whom all worlds belong,
whose children are of every race and every song.
Community of Christ, look past the Church’s door
and see the refugee, the hungry and the poor.
Take hands with the oppressed, the jobless in your street,
take towel and water, that you wash, your neighbour’s feet.
Community of Christ, through whom the word must sound –
cry out for justice and for peace the whole world round:
disarm the powers that war and all that can destroy,
turn bombs to bread, and tears of anguish into joy.
When menace melts away, so shall God’s will be done,
the climate of the world be peace and Christ its Sun;
our currency be love and kindliness our law,
our food and faith be shared as one for evermore.
Blessing:
In a fearful world, may you look for God’s spirit.
May you reach for each other’s hands.
May you choose courage whenever you can.
And in all things, may you remember
that good news is louder than fear.
In the name of the one who calls,
the one who sends,
and the one who journeys with us,
go in peace and do not be afraid.
Amen.
Thanks to all those who have assisted in preparation for this liturgy with encouragement, prayers and conversation. I have also utilised the following resources: Fig Tree Worship and A Sanctified Art (What do you fear? Insisting on Hope this Advent).
We’re Not Alone © Anna Strickland, 2025.