There’s a tension between how the birth of Jesus is celebrated and what Christmas has become culturally. At first glance, it might seem that commercialism is corrupting authenticity, and secular traditions diluting sacred meaning. But I think the friction runs deeper.
God is largely ignored or reasoned away in contemporary Western culture. When Christmas makes the claim that God actually entered His creation: that He noticed, cared, and intervened in human history, this runs counter to the way most people live. An assertion that God cares for creation creates friction. But even setting aside this resistance, a more fundamental question emerges: can any celebration adequately honour what the Incarnation actually represents?
I do not think so. I also think it’s not a problem.
Any cultural celebration of Christmas inherently falls short of the glory of the incarnate God in Christ, Jesus. The infinite taking on finitude, God becoming flesh, the Word entering creation: these realities cannot be contained or objectively honoured through any human response.
But again, I don’t think this is a problem to solve; it’s only a reality to recognize.
To me, this recognition points toward the heart of Christmas: humility and thanksgiving.
Humility acknowledges: “I cannot celebrate this worthily. My best efforts fall short of the glory of what happened.”
Thanksgiving responds: “Yet God came anyway; not because of the quality of my response, but because of His nature and love for creation.”
God didn’t wait for humanity to get Christmas right before entering creation. He never waits for us to get things right. Instead, He gets it right for us. The Incarnation wasn’t conditional on our adequate celebration. He came because He chose to, demonstrating His own humility in becoming human.
Therefore, Christmas calls us to approach whatever forms we participate in with humble gratitude: knowing I am inadequate but offering my thankfulness anyway, to a God who entered His creation, not because we’ve earned it, but because He loved it.
This posture frees me from perfectionism while keeping me anchored in the magnitude of what we’re commemorating: God with us, Emmanuel, the glory we can never contain, but can humbly and gratefully receive.