The older I get and the more I understand, the more meaningful Christmas becomes.
When I was young, the wonder and excitement of Santa and presents captured my attention at Christmas more than a baby born thousands of years ago. The song “Santa Clause is Coming to Town” instilled in me a strong desire to be as good as possible, so that I would not end up on Santa’s naughty list. I wholeheartedly believed in an all-knowing, all-seeing Santa, and I did not want him to leave coal in my stocking or deprive me of presents. Perhaps that’s where my obsession with following rules, meeting adults’ expectations, and trying to appear perfect began.
At that time, I was far from understanding my sin and my need for a Savior.
As I grew older and learned that big kids “knew better” when it came to Santa, I put my childish ways behind me. I shifted my attention away from Santa and Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer to the Bible stories we heard during Christmas. That was, after all, what Linus in the Peanuts’ Christmas special said that Christmas was all about.
My Christmas awe shifted from Santa to angels. The gospel accounts were full of angelic visitations, and these divine messengers, especially Gabriel, captivated my imagination. Instead of eagerly hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa and his sleigh (yet being afraid that if I did, I would be in trouble), I prayed that God would send an angel to visit me. As I saw it, that meant a person had God’s favor, and I surely wanted that.
It wasn’t until I grew older that I realized the angels’ message was far more important than the angels themselves. So was the God who sent them. Of the utmost importance was the One they were announcing and His purpose in coming to earth as a human being:
"She will give birth to a Son; and you shall name Him Jesus,
for He will save His people from their sins."
Matthew 1:21 NASB20
The significance of this message grew on me as I began to realize I could never obey every law of God and man, please every person, or live perfectly. This realization filled me with shame and frustration. I tried denial, defensiveness, deceit, and sheer determination to justify myself and appear okay, but shame overwhelmed me and fear gripped my heart.
No longer was I afraid of missing out on presents if I was “naughty.” Instead, the fear that gripped me was that Jesus would return for His people, including my family, and I would be left behind. The thought of being alone on earth terrified me. I desperately wanted to avoid hell and go to heaven, so I asked Jesus into my heart and prayed to go to heaven. I also prayed for an angel to reassure me of God’s favor.
I longed for peace and freedom from fear. When I finally recognized that I was a sinner who needed forgiveness and that Jesus came to save me, I knelt at my bed flanked by my mom and dad. I declared aloud my belief in Jesus, the Messiah, my Savior from sin. The fear of being left behind vanished. The pressure to be sinless lifted. Peace filled my heart.
Christmas took on new meaning that year. My wonder and awe in God becoming man and dwelling among us deepened. Like Mary, my soul desired to magnify the Lord and my spirit began to rejoice in God my Savior (see Luke 1:46-55). The carols and hymns of Christmas became more than just a way to show off my singing ability or enjoy the company of others while caroling. They reverberated with the truths of Scripture and became a way to meditate and praise God.
What about you? What does your journey with Christmas look like? When did Christmas become a worshipful celebration of Jesus, our Savior from sin?
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