Disappointment and Christmas
Bob Hyatt
December 13, 2019

Christmas is nearly here. And with it, for many people, the “Post-Christmas Letdown.”

Some of the strongest memories I have are of the two sides of Christmas- the first side being the anticipation- looking at all the gifts under the tree, wondering what could be in them, sneaking out early on Christmas morning to raid my stocking and shake presents trying to make a mental tally of the heavy ones which probably had something cool in them and the light ones that were more likely to be underwear or socks or something else that was so NOT a Christmas-y gift, but would get wrapped up anyway just to “up” the present count.

I loved it, and even though it was hard when I was younger, as I got older I eventually even learned to love stringing out the anticipation by stringing out the opening of presents. Some years it seemed to last most of the day- none of the everyone-tear-in-and-get-’em-opened-in-15-minutes-or-less stuff. Of course, I could never last quite as long as everyone else. So often, my grandparents would still be opening their last presents after dessert, at 7, 8 o’clock at night, while I just watched.

And that’s the second feeling I remember- not quite as nice as the first. The feeling, when it was all over of.. That’s all? That was pretty cool, but…

Anticipation. Disappointment. And if the disappointment didn’t come right away, it came eventually. As an only child, I almost ALWAYS got what I wanted, and more. But all of those things I was sure would complete me, make me into the kid I dreamed of being… all those things seemed a little less vital, a little more chintzy a day, a week, a month later.

What does that disappointment year after year, when we got what we wanted but then realized it was not quite as meaningful as maybe we thought- what does that tell us ?

Something crucial.

There’s a story in the Gospel of Luke where Mary and Joseph take the newborn Jesus to the Temple for dedication. It says

At that time there was a man in Jerusalem named Simeon. He was righteous and devout and was eagerly waiting for the Messiah to come and rescue Israel. The Holy Spirit was upon him   and had revealed to him that he would not die until he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. That day the Spirit led him to the Temple. So when Mary and Joseph came to present the baby Jesus to the Lord as the law required,   Simeon was there. He took the child in his arms and praised God, saying,

“Sovereign Lord, now let your servant die in peace,
    as you have promised. -Luke 2:27-29

What would it take to get you to say, “ Now , I can die in peace”?

Simeon had been waiting his whole life just to catch a glimpse of the salvation that God was sending- talk about anticipation. And when it came, he knew. He knew- this was it- the real thing.

I have seen your salvation,
which you have prepared for all people.
He is a light to reveal God to the nations,
    and he is the glory of your people Israel!” -Luke 2:30-32

I love that for Simeon, all the waiting, all the anticipation actually paid off. Why? Because he was waiting for the right thing.

All his waiting had led him to Jesus.

For us, at this time of year- disappointment is found mainly in two places- when we don’t get what we want- when things don’t turn out the way we had hoped- and when they do , and we’re still not quite satisfied, not quite happy, not quite filled.

Let me tell you two stories.

My dad died about a few years ago. We had a real rocky history- more of a non-history, really- He just wasn’t around. And he died and I never got what I wanted from him. That had always been a huge disappointment, a source of anger and discontent for me. I needed my dad and my dad was never there.

So, what do you do with something like that? It seems you can either let it make you more and more angry or sad, which will destroy you, especially after any hope that the situation might change is gone. You can just “get over it” which in some ways is to say “pretend it doesn’t bother you.”

Or… you can allow that kind of disappointment to point you towards something better.

Awhile after he died, I was meeting over breakfast with some guys I had breakfast with every couple of weeks, and I found myself feeling the craziest thing: gratitude for my dad. 

We were talking about various things God was doing, pushing or pulling us toward, and one guy was mentioning how grateful he was for having a wonderful dad. He loved his dad and tried to look past the one or two little things that really bothered him about their relationship because he knew his dad cared. But still, there were these one or two things that felt something like a wound…

As we talked about those one or two little things, my only thought, and what came out of my mouth was this: Well, thank God your dad isn’t perfect. Because if he was, you wouldn’t have needed Jesus.

It was a revelation to me when in High School someone told me my view of God was likely very much shaped by my view of my father. While the correlation wasn’t perfect, I could certainly see some of the ways it was true. 

We get angry when our parents fail us, or when our dad isn’t the loving, gracious, patient (fill in the adjective) father we want. We get even more angry when we realize they were meant to be a certain way, draw a certain picture… Our parents, and for the sake of this discussion, our fathers, are meant to point us to another Father.

But here’s the thing: more than meant to- they DO. Even the crappy ones. 

They point us to God in both what they do well and in what they do poorly. They point us to him when they succeed in loving us and when they fail to. 

How? How could they point us to Him even when they fail, when they disappoint us?

Because if they were perfect, did it ALL right, offered us unconditional love that was always patient, always wise, always nurturing and building into us… well, I guess we wouldn’t need God, right?

We’d be satisfied with that guy over there in the Lay-Z-Boy and completely miss the God of the Universe, the God who made us, pursues us, died for us. I had a choice of what to do with the disappointment left by my dad- and here’s what I chose: to be thankful for a dad who didn’t get much right (and that’s probably about the most generous assessment I’ve ever done of his fathering). I’m thankful because though he never pointed me to God intentionally, by his absence and indifference he drove me to lean all the more heavily on the God who is always present and never indifferent- the God who loves me, like the Psalmist says, with an everlasting love. 

I realize that may be an odd way to appreciate my dad, but it’s the truth. The disappointment he left me pointed me to something even better. And if that’s ALL my dad ever did for me, I think it’s enough. 

But sometimes- the problem isn’t that we don’t get what we want. It’s that we do- and it’s still not enough.

A few years ago I was living in the Netherlands, working as an associate pastor- doing mainly youth and worship and I had youth group at my house on Wednesday nights. I’d have 25, 30 kids in my house each Wednesday night, pack the place out, do a lot of crazy stuff, eat, sing, pray- it was a good time. And each week, after everyone would leave, I would spiral into a deep depression- some weeks actually crying. I had a house full of people- a ministry where kids were showing up, connecting to Jesus… and yet after each and every week I would nearly break down.

It took me awhile to figure out why that was. I was really lonely while I was there. I was about 27, 28 and the whole church consisted of people aged 0-18 and late thirties on up. I was in this gap with ten years on either side of me, not married, in a foreign country… and I started to look forward to filling my house with people. Not because I wanted to help these kids know more about Jesus, though I DID want that- but more and more I realized, I wasn’t trying to fill my house, but my soul- something was missing and I was asking these kids to fill in me a social and spiritual need that they just couldn’t. And the real tragedy is, I feel like because of that, I actually missed out on simply enjoying what was. They were great kids, it was a great time of ministry… but I was asking it to do something for me it couldn’t. And it wasn’t until I began to look somewhere besides people for that sense of love and affirmation, that I was even able even to begin to relate to people in the right way.

Our problem isn’t so much that we don’t get what we want- especially around the holidays- we often do! It’s just that we ask those things to do for us what they simply can’t. And so we’re disappointed again, and again, and again. We hope that this year will be different- that the family dinner will be perfect, that the opening of presents will be just so, that everyone will love exactly what we got them, no one will fight… and what we find is that it rarely happens exactly that way and we’re disappointed.

Or worse, it happens exactly that way and still, somehow, it’s not quite enough…

Simeon was satisfied, because he was looking to and for the right thing.

But before you think he was just a wild-eyed dreamer, look again. He was pretty realistic about the trouble this Savior would bring. Look what he said next.

Jesus’ parents were amazed at what was being said about him. Then Simeon blessed them, and he said to Mary, the baby’s mother, “This child is destined to cause many in Israel to fall, and many others to rise. He has been sent as a sign from God, but many will oppose him.   As a result, the deepest thoughts of many hearts will be revealed. And a sword will pierce your very soul.”- Luke 2:33-35

Simeon prophesied that Jesus would have a confrontational effect on the world around Him. He’d cause many to fall, but would be a joy to others. Sent as a sign from God, and yet… opposed. Like so much in life, how Jesus impacts you depends on how you take Him. And as a result of that dynamic, we can say along with Simeon that Jesus reveals the deepest thoughts of our hearts. How?

Just by showing up. Just by being the presence of God to us, the salvation that God has been promising since the beginning. Christmas… Christ , reveals the deepest thoughts of our hearts by breaking into our world and claiming our allegiance. By saying: Here is salvation, and nowhere else. Not in your family, your job or career, your artistic pursuits, not in your 401k. Not in getting what you want, no matter how good what you want may be.

I love that for Simeon, who had waited all his life, Advent was no disappointment. Why? Because it revealed the deepest thoughts, hopes, dreams, and aspirations of his heart. And that heart was set on something real, something deep- something that wouldn’t disappoint. What He was waiting for was Jesus. And Jesus is who showed up.

What’s the deepest part of you? What do you worship? What do you rest all your hopes of happiness and fulfillment on?

Jesus, as the angels sang, the Savior, Christ the LORD, by showing up and claiming our worship, reveals where we place that worship, what our hearts are resting on.

And no matter what it is we put our hearts on, it will always come up short. Just try it. Try looking to your spouse to make you happy. Your kids. Your anything… anything but Him. Whatever it is, no matter how great, just like unwrapping that thing we so thought we wanted, when we actually get it, we find, it doesn’t do quite all we had hoped it would do for us. No- nothing wrong with family, job, career, 401k… But don’t ask it to do for you what only Jesus can.

Satisfy.

Bring lasting peace…. Save you.

Every year we have in Christmas a beautiful reminder: A reminder that God has shown up on the scene, become Immanuel , God With Us, to be our salvation, our peace, our joy. AND a built in-reminder when we stare at the pile of torn wrapping paper and presents we’re thinking about returning… that nothing else can fill that place for us.

So- this year- enjoy Christmas. Enjoy the presents, the family, all the trappings of the Season. There’s nothing wrong with that. But remember- when you inevitably feel a twinge when it’s not exactly like you hoped it would be, when even should you get everything on your list, you find that there’s still something missing, something not quite there … that is, in a sense, Christmas doing its best possible work : Pointing you to your need for something deeper, pointing out where you are putting your hopes for happiness, on people, on presents and things, and pointing you towards something, Some one , that truly can bring peace, Jesus.

The Importance of Formation (and Fishbowls)

By Bob Hyatt • October 7, 2026
“When God works in us nothing is useless, and nothing is spared.” - Jeannine Brown, Carla Dahl and Wendy Corbin Reuschling, Becoming Whole and Holy “There is no circumstance, no trouble, no testing, that can ever touch me until, first of all, it has gone past God and past Christ, right through to me. If it has come that far, it has come with great purpose, which I may not understand at the moment.” - Alan Redpath Here's something I've noticed about people as they get older: they tend to go one of two ways. They either get sweeter with age or they get crankier. They grow wiser and more like Jesus, or they grow bitter and more like the worst version of themselves. That's because life is formation. Everything we do and everything we go through shapes us one way or the other, mostly depending on how we respond to what happens to us, whether it's extraordinary or completely ordinary. Ministry works the same way. I've watched leaders come out of nearly identical trials in completely different shape. Some come out stronger. Others come out deeply wounded, discouraged, and ready to quit. The difference usually comes down to where they see God in the middle of the struggle, absent or present, and what questions they ask about it. Some ask, "God, why is this happening to me?" Others ask, "God, what could you want to form in me through this?" Both views of God will shape us, and so will both questions. They just shape us in very different directions. In my experience, the most common sin in church leadership is an obsession with numbers and results, paired with neglect of our own souls. On top of that, we rarely stop to notice how those numbers and results, and how ministry itself, are shaping us. So here's my suggestion: stop working so hard to develop your ministry and start noticing that your ministry is developing you. How you handle the realities of church leadership will determine not only what your church becomes but what you become. Leadership and ministry will form you. The only question is: into what? One tool God uses: the fishbowl Some people hesitate to become a pastor because it opens them up to scrutiny, and now and then to outright criticism. When I was a young leader, I hated the "fishbowl effect" of ministry. Everyone was watching me, and my mistakes seemed to count for a lot more than anyone else's. It felt deeply unfair that flaws that wouldn't even register at most people's jobs could cost me my job, my reputation, and my community. Never mind that maybe it bothered me so much because I had such a generous supply of those flaws. After years of living under the steady gaze of critics and cranks, I see the fishbowl differently. These days I actually welcome it. Richard Baxter, a Puritan pastor in the 1600s, put it this way: “While you are as lights set upon a hill, think not to lie hid... do your work as those that remember that the world looks on them... ready to make the worst of all... and to make faults where they cannot find them.”[1] Baxter understood that anyone who calls others to live like Jesus is going to get called out when they don't. His advice? Live like the world is watching, because it is. Some people in your life are ready to yell "Hypocrite!" at the first opportunity, to point out failings they share themselves, and, as Baxter says, even to invent faults when they can't find real ones. And Baxter's fishbowl had a few neighbors peering over the fence. Ours has a livestream, a comment section, and someone screenshotting the announcements. But Baxter goes further. He says we should be glad about it: “As you take yourselves for the lights of the churches, you may expect that men's eyes will be upon you. If other men may sin without observation, so cannot you. And you should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you, and so many ready to tell you of your faults; and thus have greater helps than others, at least for restraining you from sin. Though they may do it with a malicious mind, yet you have the advantage of it.” As a Pastor, you have more eyes on you and more people paying attention to how you live. That means you have more help than most in living well and avoiding sin. What some people mean for evil, God means for your good (Genesis 50:20). What looks like a downside of ministry turns out to be a path to maturity, to formation. In practical terms, living your life in front of others pushes you to do what you already know you should do. And it often keeps you out of things you might slide into if nobody were watching. One important caveat: embracing accountability isn't the same as tolerating abuse. Healthy scrutiny sharpens you. A congregant who attacks your spouse or treats your kids like church property is a different problem, and it calls for boundaries, not gratitude. Let's be clear, though: the fishbowl isn't enough on its own. What we're really after is internal: character, a changed heart. But knowing we're living out loud in front of a watching church and a watching world gives us structure, and that structure can help us build the habits and rhythms of holiness we want. As we try to let the heart and character of Christ take deeper root in us, we have the advantage of lots of eyes around us "encouraging" us to stay on the straight and narrow. My sense is that people who embrace this find that, over time, what starts on the outside moves more and more to the inside. Slowly, the choices we make because others are watching become, through habit, real character. Because I know people are watching, I think twice about what I say in public, what I scroll past on my phone, and how I talk to my kids at church or out on the sidewalk in front of the neighbors. More and more, those choices, first made because of an audience, become part of who I am. That's especially true when I treat those moments as kairos [2] moments: times when God breaks in and uses my awareness of a watching world to show me the character He wants to form in me and the choices He'd like me to make. But what if we don't embrace it? What about those who get shipwrecked by moral failure, character flaws, and private sins gone public? People who resent the fishbowl of ministry and the Christian life often end up living one way in public and another in private. It's as if their anger at being scrutinized pushes them into a divided life: they'll play by the rules in public but insist on their own rules in private. Frustrated with the audience around them, so eager to find fault, they forget the true Audience they live before. And as we've all seen from too many spectacular crash-and-burns, the fallout is often devastating. Families, churches, and the reputation of the whole Church take serious damage. Pastors, recognize that your formation is happening, one way or another… and make peace with the fishbowl. It's going to be there whether you like it or not. If you embrace it, you may find it spurring you on toward love and good deeds (Hebrews 10:24) and keeping you clear of the sins that have taken down so many in ministry before you. “You should thankfully consider how great a mercy this is, that you have so many eyes to watch over you.” Let the Holy Spirit use your public life, and every eye watching it, to shape and form you. The fishbowl and the formation of a life in ministry are coming either way. Let them help answer the question: into what? To further explore your own formation through ministry, join us at the Multiply Summit with special guest Rich Villodas this coming February in the Washington, D.C. area! Adapted from Eldership and the Mission of God by Bob Hyatt and J.R. Briggs. [1] Richard Baxter, The Reformed Pastor, London, 1657, p. 21. [2] Kairos is one of the Greek words for time, but it's different from chronos. Chronos is linear, calendar time. Kairos refers to significant moments full of possibility. Here, it means those times when God steps into chronos.

New Book (and Message) from Ecclesia Pastor Aaron Graham

By Bob Hyatt • April 13, 2026
Here's a message from Ecclesia Pastor Aaron Graham