One of the greatest Christmas movies of all time (imho) is “A Christmas Story.” It’s about a boy in 1939 who desperately wanted a Red Ryder BB gun. To him, this is the thing that will make Christmas great. Mom, however, is focused on the turkey and all decorations and everything that moms do to make Christmas wonderful for their families. Dad is focused on his major award from “Italy.”

The undercurrent of the movie is the question of what makes Christmas Christmas? What makes the magic of connection, joy, hope, and beauty sparkle during the darkest days of the year? Ralphie thinks it’s the toy, of course. Who knows what’s going on in the little brother’s mind who eats like a piggie. Mom has her ideas about what’s important. Dad’s just trying to keep the boiler going.

But that’s not what makes this a great Christmas. If you remember the movie, you’ll remember that it ALL goes sideways by the end and yet a great Christmas still comes.

We all have ideas about how things are supposed to happen. When we’re waiting for some outcome, we generally think we know how it should all happen and that “how” is some path that we already know about and expect. It’s like believing that having all the right decorations, foods, and presents means you’ll have a great Christmas.

But, in The Christmas Story, something else happens.

In the ancient world, the Hebrew people were living under Roman occupation. They were waiting for the Messiah to deliver them from this political and economic subjugation. They had an idea of what the Messiah was to look like (a warrior) and what he was to do (lead a revolution).

But, something else happened.

In our story today, Mary goes to her cousin Elizabeth just days after being greeted by the angel Gabriel and being told that she will bear a son who will be Emmanuel, God with Us. She was dismayed by the encounter at the beginning. She asked questions, but ultimately said yes to what God was doing in her life, in her body, and in her world. She says yes in her trust-filled way. “I am a servant of God. Let it be done to me as you say.”

Elizabeth’s story is less well known and is only told in the gospel of Luke. She and her husband, Zechariah, are older and childless, despite being faithful servants of God. Zechariah was told by the angel Gabriel that Elizabeth was to conceive and bear a child, not unlike Sarah and Abraham, in their old age. Zechariah didn’t really believe this, so he was struck mute for her entire pregnancy so he couldn’t mess things up. Elizabeth wasn’t told what was to happen, like Mary and Zechariah were, but all the same, she knew her pregnancy was the Lord’s doing.

So, when we get to our story today, the old woman Elizabeth is six months pregnant, and she greets her cousin, a young woman who is just barely pregnant with Jesus. Two women, neither of whom had any business being pregnant by normal standards. And, in all the world, only these two, along with their babies, knew what is going on. (Well, Zechariah also knew but he was sidelined by God.)

What a secret to hold! What a surprise for two people who wouldn’t have any centrality in anyone’s story to be placed in the center of God’s story.

They were among the least likely holders of this secret given the realities of their world. The rabbis, the priests, the political leaders, the heads of households were all clueless. At the very same time, these people, the powerful, likely didn’t think they were clueless. They probably had all sorts of ideas of what was going to happen and what should happen and what they were looking for.

But something else was happening right under their noses.

It makes me wonder where Christ is emerging and being born into the world again in ways that I have no idea about. I, like most of us, have places where I look for hope and these are generally places where recognized leaders are. Leaders in our families, leaders in our politics and economic worlds, leaders in our communities. We wonder, what are they doing to make the world better?

But what if something else is happening?

Who might be gathering in twos and threes, perhaps with a secret understanding of a beautiful good that is emerging in their lives for the sake of all? Might these people be folks who would be the least expected? What if they are not, in fact, wealthy or powerful or educated. Might these conversations be happening in a shelter for homeless folks here in town? Or in AA meetings? Or in the bar, among those just beginning to consider the AA meeting?

Or maybe in your own life and self? But what if this secret emergence of Christ in our world is not in the places you might think to look for new life in you? What if Christ is emerging in you, but not from your strength? What if Christ is emerging from your weakness and vulnerability? In and from your darkest places in you where you too might be tempted to tell the young Christ child there is indeed no room at the inn. To go away. To leave that place alone. We all have corners in our lives or minds where we may not want too much light shed.

The same might be true in our families, communities, and in our country. Christ is on the move, but in places we may not expect, see, or have a clue about.

In the movie A Christmas Story, a lot of the hopes of Ralphie and the family were dashed. Ralphie did indeed almost shoot his eye out. The turkey was eaten in a rampage by the Bumpus’ dogs. The major award was “accidentally” broken. The decoder for Little Annie Oakley turned out to be just an Ovaltine ad. And, to top it off, the boys were forced to wear bunny costumes on Christmas morning! Disappointment, upon disappointment.

And yet, in the midst of all that disappointment, something else happened.

The beauty of Christmas truly emerged at a Chinese restaurant with a roast duck on the table. It happened in the least likely of places for Ralphie’s family.

There is an interesting tension about knowing in our story today. For those of us who think we know all sorts of things, our confidence is being called into question. Like the wise and powerful of Mary and Elizabeth’s time, we may not be seeing Christ’ emergence in the world because of where we are placing our hopes and expectations. What we think we know, we likely don’t really know.

And yet, here’s Mary and Elizabeth who do know what’s happening.

What Mary knows and understands is that God’s action in her life and personal reality will impact the world. Seems to be Mary is a prophet here, telling us about the coming fulfillment of God’s promises for all of God’s people. She knows God’s promises to be true and unfolding, because of what is happening to her and Elizabeth. Despite ongoing political and economic domination of her people, she declares “You have deposed the mighty from their thrones and raised the lowly to high places. You have filled the hungry with good things, while you have sent the rich away empty.”

As with the great prophets, she sees the injustice of her time clearly and yet also sees God’s promises fulfilled. Time collapses in Mary’s Magnificat into the paradox of now and not yet; Christ’s promises and emergence are both emerging now, fully given now, and are also yet unfulfilled.

In that the tension of unfulfillment, we still wait, with unknowing minds and open hearts. We can trust, like Mary, that God’s great action is afoot even as we don’t know how it is or will be unfolding. However, we are given a hint to look towards the least likely people and places to know the truth of Christ and his emergence in our lives today. As Mary guides us, might we look and listen to the poor, the disenfranchised, or those we consider to be enemies – all those who we tend to see without dignity. What might we learn and experience if we did deeply listen? Might we see glimmers of the coming of Christ?

The same is true in our lives? What might we learn if we listened to the wounded parts of ourselves that we would rather just go away? Might we also see glimmers of the coming of Christ there, in ourselves? The same may just be true everywhere we go; in every family gathering, in every moment in time. God is indeed there.

Christ is indeed being born anew, again and again. But it will likely be in the least expected places, not flowing from strength but hidden in weakness and poverty. So let us go forth with minds opened with a stance of not knowing, yet with hearts wide open to receive, recognize, and know the Christ that is preparing to be born again in our lives and in our world.

AMEN