As the season of compulsory joy approaches, The Disappointment Institute would like to remind everyone that disappointment, too, has divine origins.
Each year, millions gather in the name of love, light, and limited parking. Families reunite around tables groaning under the weight of unspoken expectations, resurrecting the same theological paradox that has haunted humanity for centuries: why does salvation always come with small talk?
We note that even the original Christmas story was built on unmet plans, an unbooked inn, an improvised birth location, and gifts entirely unsuited for newborn care. It seems disappointment is not a deviation from the sacred, but its organising principle.
This December, we encourage all believers, doubters, and serial gift-returners to embrace the holiness of the anticlimax. The turkey will be dry, the conversation will circle predictably, and the epiphany will, once again, not arrive. And yet — in that shared sigh lies community.
From all of us at The Disappointment Institute,
May your expectations be modest, and your disillusionment illuminating.
