The hope of a Messiah (a Christ, God’s Anointed One) kept the ancient people of Israel alive and vibrant through the humiliation and indignity of their exile, through the coming of the Greeks with their temples, and even through the Roman occupation. The hope and expectation that God was going to breakthrough the world’s mess held them together as a people. They expected God to act, to fulfill the promise—and they expected God to act and fulfill that promise according to their expectations. God didn’t act according to their expectations, and thus, they did not recognize the Anointed One when he arrived.
The one they expected was supposed to cause a stir. Jesus didn’t. He came quietly. He was born in a stable. His parents were from Nazareth, and nothing good was expected to come from Nazareth. They expected a liberator who would release them from their Roman bondage. Jesus didn’t. They expected Christ to dazzle them by miraculous feats. He didn’t. They expected the Anointed One to reinstate the Law—the Law that Moses had given them. He didn’t. Instead he talked about the law of love and how “Love is the fulfillment of the Law.”
They expected someone who would make life easier by reducing taxes, increasing employment and bringing down inflation. He didn’t. They expected him to be a smashing success on the world’s stage. He wasn’t. He was a dismal failure. They expected a Christ that they could keep to themselves (locked up in their nation, their synagogues, their temple). They couldn’t. He was like a river, the current of which was so strong that the banks could not contain it. Jesus was not the Christ they expected and they weren’t ready for the unexpected Jesus.
We, too, look for Jesus to come in the ways we expect him to come. He will soften the hard heart of many Scrooges’ this year. Maybe? We expect him to come in the usual places—in the church and in the crèche. We expect him to come in the familiar music of the carols we sing. We expect him to come in the familiar story of his birth in the gospels of Matthew and Luke. We expect him to come in and through our Christmas traditions. But I’m afraid he won’t. Jesus has never come in expected ways, why should we think he would come that way now?
Jesus says: “You can’t wrap me up. You can’t keep me in or out of Christmas. You can’t keep me in your church, your particular creed, race or culture—not even your particular country. You can’t fit me into any of your expectations. You can’t hold on to me like I’m your own special property. I am always coming in unexpected ways and I will do the same this Christmas.”
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