At Christmas, God does not meet us where we expect. Instead, he quietly dismantles the very frameworks through which we imagine divine power should operate. As Oblate Father Ron Rolheiser, a contemporary theologian and author, has often observed, God consistently “shatters the containers of our expectations”—not to disappoint us, but to deepen and purify our hope. Nowhere is this more evident than in Bethlehem.
For centuries, humanity cried out for deliverance through a Messiah who would establish justice, restore dignity to the poor, heal the wounded, and crush the forces of evil. It was not unreasonable to expect God to fix the world by overpowering it.
And then came Christmas. Not a conqueror, but a child. Not a divine display of might, but a baby unable to feed himself. However, this was not a failure of God’s promise, but its radical fulfilment. Divine power entered history disguised as vulnerability.
This remains profoundly unsettling. Even today, we are tempted to measure God’s effectiveness by visibility, speed, and dominance. We want immediate results, decisive interventions, clear victories. Yet the mystery revealed in the manger is that God’s deepest power does not break hearts open; it melts them. Vulnerability, not invincibility, is what creates intimacy. A baby disarms us not by strength but by trust, not by command but by invitation.
The Christmas Message of Cardinal Stephen Chow, S.J., reminds us that the Son of God took on our humanity to ennoble it and rescue us from our persistent helplessness. Humanity is both sacred and imperfect. And God enters human suffering rather than avoiding it, stands with the powerless rather than above them, and patiently waits for our response. Similarly, there are also altruistic acts by ordinary people that restore dignity and hope.
Yet this patience frustrates us. We look at a world where inequality worsens, violence persists, and the poor seem far from “inheriting the earth.” We ask, with honest anguish, where is the messianic power we were promised?
Here again, Christmas challenges us to rethink what it means to “inherit the earth.” Is it dominance, recognition, control, or wealth? Or is it something quieter and more enduring—hearts softened, communities reconciled, relationships restored? The Gospel teaches us that inheriting the earth isn’t about elevating ourselves above others, but about rediscovering our fundamental goodness. Often, this renewal occurs not through debate or power, but through a simple, genuine gesture like a child’s smile.
The Christ of Christmas lies in our world as a silent presence, offering a gentle call. He does not force, but patiently waits. He does not dominate, but invites. This contrast is the paradox and the grace of the Incarnation.
If Christmas is to be more than sentiment, it must challenge our expectations anew. This season, let our assumptions be reshaped by the delicate yet powerful presence of God-with-us. Extend that hope beyond our reflections—reach out to the sorrowing hearts in Tai Po and, perhaps, in your neighbourhood, in response to the Christmas message of Cardinal Stephen. Be a beacon of hope in a world still longing for salvation. jose, CMF
