Axe body spray had just come out when I was in high school, so teenage boys were using it to cover a multitude of sins (smells.) In the locker room after games, a cloud of aerosol mist hovered, prepared to knock the socks off the women outside—or more accurately, to knock them unconscious with the potency.
Not me, though. I was fancy and sophisticated, the proud owner of a cologne called “Acqua Di Gio,” aka the “Ferrari of scents.” I felt confident and Italian. I wasn’t tall, or dark, or particularly handsome, but boy, I sure smelled good. The cologne was a gift from my Grandma the previous Christmas. So, when Christmas came around the next year, I was expecting something great again.
After the obligatory socks and sweater, I opened the biggest package with anticipation. I was 17, soon to head off to college. This was one of my last Christmases as a minor. So, maybe this would be a rite of passage type gift, celebrating my adulthood. Or perhaps it would be like the cologne, something to further enhance my sophistication.
But when I ripped off the paper, it exposed a box with a picture of a little boy wearing a cowboy hat and a fake sheriff’s badge while holding a rifle. But it was not a real rifle. It was a BB gun. Yes, a Red Rider BB gun.
I was almost old enough to vote, enter the draft and be assigned a real rifle. A couple of generations ago, a 17-year-old would have already owned a farm and had 3 children of their own. I was far from being a kid; I didn’t play games anymore or ask for toys. I was no Ralphie, and this was no Christmas Story.
This gift did not live up to my expectations.
Impossible Expectations
How early did you notice Christmas stuff displayed in stores this year? October? September? Each year, they seem to move up the date. For months, we wait and plan and dream. Kids make wish lists. Adults eagerly imagine the family harmony and connectedness that will occur.
The problem is: life is not a Christmas movie. Our issues don’t resolve in 90 minutes. We don’t find true love serendipitously over frozen hot chocolate or defeat burglars with some hilariously planned pranks and a BB gun. We aren’t visited by a guardian angel named Clarence, and we don’t learn how to be a wonderful dad after killing Santa Claus and absorbing his duties.
How many times has the season let us down and not lived up to expectations?
- Instead of harmony, the family time is full of conflict. Someone has too much egg nog and launches into some political conspiracy theories.
- Instead of peace and calm, hearts fill with anxiety from gift-buying and meal-prepping and plan-making.
- The food tastes delicious until you realize you’ve gained 10 pounds in 2 weeks.
- Things aren’t the way they used to be because someone has passed on or moved away.
- You see the highlight reels on social media of perfect families, which reminds you how alone you feel or how broken your family is.
Our expectations don’t account for the unpredictable chaos of life. Things rarely happen the way we expect, and these expectations are usually only fantasies, anyway. So, we build our minds up in a fantasy world, only to be let down and brought back down to the messy, gritty reality of life.
Jesus Didn’t Fulfill Expectations
The Israelites had many expectations for the Messiah. The definition of “Messiah” is the chosen one of God. The prevailing expectation was that the Messiah would be a powerful king chosen by God to free Israel from other empires and return the tribe to political and national prominence.
Instead of fulfilling these expectations, Jesus talked about freeing human hearts and setting up a universal kingdom of love and peace. He didn’t ascend to power and esteem; he descended and made himself nothing, eventually dying a criminal’s death. This was not what people were expecting.
It’s ironic that the holiday celebrating this Messiah has become known for buying stuff and excess and consumerism because he was born to poor parents in a place of dirt and dung. He never owned a home and had little to no possessions.
If we are looking for this Messiah’s kingdom in our cultural Christmas traditions, I’m not sure we’re going to find it.
The power and glory the Israelites were looking for was there, they were just looking in the wrong place. The Messiah wasn’t found on a magnificent throne—he was found in a barn with animals. He was found with prostitutes and tax collectors and lepers and children. He was found with the rich and poor and lame and non-religious. He was found hanging on a cross. He was found resurrected from the dead. It was
all
so
unexpected.
The magic of Christmas is all around us, but like the Israelites, are we looking in the wrong place?
Seeking and Searching
My favorite Christmas tradition involved scavenger hunts created by my dad to help us find presents. He gave my sister and me a note card with a clue. This clue would lead to the next note card, eventually ending in the gift’s location.
It wasn’t the gifts that made this tradition so special. I don’t even remember most of them and, like all material presents, they eventually faded away or let me down. It was the hunt itself—the joy of seeking. It was the laughter when my dad wrote a funny clue or hid something in a surprising spot.
It was also the very presence of my dad. He passed away over 10 years ago now, so these memories are irreplaceable treasures for me.
We build up Christmas. When I get this… then I will be happy. When we’re all together or when we go to this location or when we perform this tradition or when I have this conversation… then, it will all be ok and good and magical. The pressure builds and expectations increase—
then,
just like that,
it’s over.
What if the magic and love and peace we seek is available to us right now? What if the joy comes not through the big reveal at the end of the hunt, but the moment to moment seeking? What if part of seeking after this Messiah is learning that he is not just “God with us” in the big moments, but he is “God with us” in the normal, everyday routines? What if his presence, wait for it… is the real present? (that’s a line full of cheesiness, but it’s Christmas, let’s indulge ourselves!)
I look back now at my 17-year-old self and wish I could tell him to release the expectations—of Christmas, but also all the expectations of high school and pleasing others and being successful. I would tell him to enjoy these moments with his family and understand they won’t last forever. I would tell him to enjoy being a kid, before life becomes full of tax returns, politics, and a bottle of Tums. I’d tell him to seek after the small treasures that are all around.
I wish I could tell him to let go of all the expectations and pressures and instead, search for the magic available in each moment.
This Christmas will come and go. You will put the tree back in the box, take the lights off the gutter, and get on the scale, realizing it’s time to renew your gym membership. Instead of expecting a season or a gathering or an event to bring you hope or joy, remember that this Messiah’s kingdom is available right now. Take some moments to breathe, to release the pressure and expectations. Look around and realize that God is with us.
May you seek after this kingdom. May you find him in your boring moments and scary moments and urgent moments. May you rest and breath deep.
And for Gods sake, don’t shoot your eye out, kid.
