Keeping Christ in Christmas

Every December, I vow that next year will be different. We’ll cut back on presents—the eternal spreadsheet of who wants what and how to make it all financially feasible. I’ll check off more of the classic Christmas memories I want to give my kids—the live Nutcracker ballet, homemade gingerbread houses, caroling through the snow. We’ll finally nail the decor and spend less time stressing over things. We’ll soak in all the little joys of the season—Christmas read-alouds under a bed of blankets, hot cocoa by the twinkly tree, and impromptu jingle bell dance parties in the kitchen.

But despite my best intentions, I find myself swept up again in the holiday hurricane, straining for breath and grasping for something steady to hold. The out-of-town visits block out weeks at a time. The obligatory Christmas parties and family gatherings occupy every available evening and weekend. The allure of gifts and garlands pulls me under once more. That “just one more thing” that seemed so doable in November now threatens to push me to the brink. 

Some of this Christmas craziness will always be inevitable. If we’re blessed to have loved ones living nearby or traveling in, we’ll make those sacrifices for time with them, even if other good things get pushed aside. Gift-giving or churchgoing or holiday hosting will place some amount of burden on us in an already stretched-out season. The list of potential sweet moments to capture this time of year with our families will forever outpace the available slots in our calendar. 

But how do we focus on the most important things this time of year? How do we keep Christ in Christmas? Here are three simple things we might prioritize amidst all that’s pushing for our attention:

Contentment

Christmas chiefly reminds us that a Savior has been born—so our deepest human needs have already been met. Yet, our culture preaches the exact opposite message this time of year: We need more . . . presents and table settings and parties and activities and wreaths and matching jammies and blow-up displays. More, more, more to achieve the picture-perfect holiday experience. We’re fed comparison and consumerism wherever we turn—in the catalogs arriving in the mail, the deals stuffing our inboxes, the ads interrupting our shows, and certainly, the posts forever feeding our scroll (and soul).

So, if we’re feeling distracted and distanced from “the Reason for the season,” let’s evaluate whether we’re getting too plugged into covetous temptations. Maybe we need to pull back for a while—archiving messages, turning off a subscription, fasting from social media—whatever might be causing us to feel angsty and empty. Hebrews 13:5 encourages, “Keep your life free from love of money, and be content with what you have, for he has said, ‘I will never leave you nor forsake you.’”

Friends, our Immanuel has come. He has redeemed us, infused our lives with his Spirit, and prepared a glorious dwelling place just ahead. There is nothing else we truly need.

As our hearts are reminded of our eternal riches in Christ, we are freed and filled to extend his gospel generosity to others.[1] Instead of lusting over the perfect pieces to complete our curated Christmas, we get to joyfully prioritize giving with our families. We get to open-handedly share what God has entrusted to us and serve others together, displaying for our kids where true satisfaction lies—in giving, not receiving.[2] Contentment is the fuel for counterculturally approaching the season with gratitude and generosity rather than grumbles and “gimmes.”

Connection

Cultivating hearts of contentment at Christmastime reminds us that the greatest gift of the incarnation was not stuff or busyness, but a relationship. We are given all that we need for life and godliness[3] in the person of Christ, who has redeemed us from sin to bring us into lasting fellowship with God Almighty. And not only did Jesus break down the dividing wall between earth and heaven, he also bridged the interpersonal chasms we dig for ourselves.[4] He came to bring connection—love and belonging and warmth—between God and man and man and man.

What does this have to do with our Christmas priorities? Instead of becoming further alienated from Christ and each other through excessive hustling and self-focus this time of year, we can give our energies to that which builds relational connection. The fun activities and abundant material goods can take second place to investing in genuine fellowship—particularly with our brothers and sisters in the faith. Maybe this means we rethink a certain tradition or put aside shopping or baking or even another family gathering in order to be present with our church body more. Or we slot out time in the calendar for intentional hospitality before it gets crowded out by other holiday to-dos. We might order our limited time together as families more around deep conversation or filling each other’s relational tanks than checking off a list of Advent activities.

More than ever in our distracted, digital age—and with all the noise and pressures of this season especially—we need to guard our time with one another and moments we can capture for looking deeply into each other’s eyes, sharing our hearts, encouraging, comforting, and being present together around the Lord’s Table and his Word. These are the moments that remind us most who Christ is and why he came.

Contemplation

Contentment and connection during the holidays both require thought and contemplation. They don’t just happen; these are postures born out of unhurried time with the Lord and space for solitude and stillness. And those are perhaps two of the hardest things to come by this time of year. 

With everything vying to keep our eyes off Christ right now, it takes extra effort to build in margin for waiting, worship, and wonder—the true point of Advent. All around us, expectations are mounting and pulses rising, so we’ll look very different from the world when we strive to slow our pace. But this both honors our own creatureliness (because we weren’t designed to run on fumes!) and brings us into closer communion with our Creator, through which we are strengthened and shaped for every needful task.

Christ himself, in his own long season of constant demands, modeled the priority of quiet, contemplative time with his Father. He frequently stole away from the crowds for prayer, renewal, and rest—up on a mountain, out at sea, and in other solitary places.[5] If he was willing to regularly retreat from the constant pressures to heal and clothe and feed and resurrect, then how much more can we work to simply step back from our pressures to craft and bake and attend and wrap?

Contemplation could look like guarding our space to work through some Advent readings individually or as a family. It could mean saying “no” to many good things in order to build in necessary recovery time between events. Perhaps it’s simply leaving room for quiet and creativity and even boredom this Christmas break rather than scheduling away every spare moment. These are the opportunities we moms and our kids need to practice resting in Christ and leaving room for the musings of our hearts to meld with the thoughts of God.

In wisely examining our inputs and outputs and directing our hearts towards contentment, connection, and contemplation, we can help our families truly keep Christ at the center of our Christmas. These rhythms return us again and again to the good news of the gospel—that our hope is not in a million tiny trimmings but in a Savior hung on the tree. Not in our own autonomy but in kinship with our King. Not in our doing but in his done. May Christ’s peace be ours this Christmas . . . and in every December to come.