Here we are, people of different ages and ways of life, gathered in this church. Some of you with great expectations; others with shattered dreams. Some of you dreaming about their bright future; others tired and maybe embittered with their life that hasn’t gone according to plan.
When I was in my early twenties I heard a lot about the great mission of spreading the good news of Jesus. It appeared to be a great vocation, appealing to my idealistic dreams of doing great things for Jesus and in his Name. After my ordination I started working in local parishes, where reality hit. People seemed to be interested in rituals like baptisms and weddings rather than looking for any spiritual depth; pupils and students in schools seemed to be hardly interested at all in catechesis. The reality was depressingly far from my idealistic vision of spreading the Gospel. Slowly I realised that I was getting frustrated because my expectations were misplaced.
Reality is not a problem; it’s the environment in which we have to operate and to act. We can create and adjust the world around us to some extent, although we are rather limited in what we can do: we can choose friends (but not enemies), a place to live (but not the neighbours), a place to work (but not colleagues) and so on. Adjusting the world to our expectations might present quite a challenge, might be time and money consuming with no guaranteed results. Particularly problematic are people – they are so unpredictable. Actually all the effort to adjust the world around us can guarantee just one result: permanently deepening frustration!
I think that carving your expectations is a better idea. It’s simpler, easier, cost- and time- effective, and it causes much less frustration. Effectively, it makes you enjoy the small things; in fact, our life is comprised mostly of a lot of small things.
After the announcement of the imminent birth of the Messiah – anticipated as a great warrior and saviour – the circumstances were hardly glamorous and spectacular. Mary had to travel a long way down to Bethlehem just to give birth to her son in a stable, like an animal. Perhaps the shepherds were quite astonished by so unusual an event; perhaps that bit about angels was made up much later to add some sparkling glamour to that utterly unglamorous birth. And actually, everything that happened in Jesus’ earthly life was unglamorous, with his nasty end in particular. And yet his achievements are stunning: he has redeemed humankind and he has made eternal salvation readily available at the fingertips of anyone interested. His followers comprise the biggest religion in the world. Not a bad thing for such an unglamorous life…
Great things happen, but quite often they have humble beginnings, and quite often they remain humble for a pretty long time. And they may never become publicly known. What really matters is that they happen to you and to all you want to share them with. Like this Christmas.