Reclaiming the Manger: When "Being Right" Cost Me Memories
For years, as the calendar turned to December, a familiar tension would rise. While the world around me began to glow with lights and echo with carols, my internal theological compass pointed toward a different direction: silence.
In the tradition I love and serve—the Church of Christ—we have long prided ourselves on "speaking where the Bible speaks and being silent where the Bible is silent." Because the New Testament provides no command to celebrate the birth of Jesus on December 25th, and because history suggests that date was chosen to "Christianize" Roman pagan festivals like Saturnalia, I held a firm line. I believed that by ignoring Christmas, I was protecting the purity of the Gospel.
But as I look back now, I realize that my "misinformed theology" didn't just protect a tradition—it built a wall. It cost me years of building family memories, and worse, it acted as a distraction from the very Gospel I claimed to defend.
The "Pagan" Distraction
The argument was always the same: “Christmas is pagan in origin.” We were taught that the tree, the date, and the festivities were "baptized" idolatry. We spent our energy in Bible studies and from pulpits dismantling the "holiday" rather than marveling at the Holy One.
I see now that this was a masterstroke of the enemy. If the devil can keep us arguing about the roots of a tree or the origins of a date, he successfully distracts us from the miracle of the Incarnation. When we focus on why we shouldn’t celebrate, we often forget to actually proclaim that "the Word became flesh and dwelt among us" (John 1:14).
The Gospel doesn't start at the empty tomb; it starts with the cry of a baby in a manger.
By staying silent in December, I wasn't just avoiding a "pagan" day; I was inadvertently silencing the story of God’s greatest gift to mankind.
The Sacred Grief of Missed Memories
As a father and a husband, this theology had a tangible cost. While I was busy being "scripturally correct," my family was living in a home where the joy of the season was often replaced by a cold, academic avoidance.
I think of my wife, and our children. I think of the years when they were small. Instead of building memories—traditions of giving, hospitality, and family worship focused on the Nativity—we were taught to treat it as "just another day."
But the Bible tells us that God is a God of memory and celebration. Throughout the Old Testament, He commanded festivals to ensure the next generation never forgot His works. By rejecting the opportunity to celebrate the Incarnation, I missed a vital window to model the Father's heart to my own children.
A Theology of Liberty
My shift didn't come from a desire to be "worldly," but from a deeper dive into the Word. I found that the "silence of Scripture" is not a prohibition, but a space for Christian liberty.
Romans 14:5-6: "One person considers one day more sacred than another; another considers every day alike. Each them should be fully convinced in their own mind. Whoever regards one day as special does so to the Lord."
Colossians 2:16: "Therefore do not let anyone judge you by what you eat or drink, or with regard to a religious festival..."
If the angels could break the silence of the night with a chorus of "Glory to God in the highest" (Luke 2:14), and if the Magi could travel months to bring gifts to a young child (Matthew 2:11), then who am I to say that celebrating that same birth today is "unscriptural"?
Restoration and the Road Ahead
The beauty of restoration is the idea that we are always seeking to return to the heart of God. For me, that means restoring the joy that legalism stole.
It is never too late to start "Year One."
Today, my reflections are no longer about "pagan origins." Instead, they are about how to make my home a place of light. I want my family to see a father who isn't afraid of a date on a calendar, but a father who is overwhelmed by the fact that God became a man to save us.
The devil used "correctness" to steal my memories. But Christ uses truth to set us free. This year, and every year, we will speak where the Bible speaks: "Unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given."
Reflection
Has a focus on "what we don't do" ever hindered you from sharing the joy of "what Christ has done"?
How can we use the liberty found in Romans 14 to build stronger, Christ-centered family traditions?
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!