Reclaiming Christmas

Returning the Holidays From Commerce to Christ

Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash

Christmas Was Never Meant to Be Bought—It Was Meant to Be Received

Every December, America enters its annual pilgrimage, not to the manger in Bethlehem, but to the aisles of big-box stores and the glow of online shopping carts. A season that began with angels singing “Peace on Earth” has been repackaged into a months-long marketing campaign urging us to spend more, accumulate more, and somehow prove our love through things that rarely last beyond New Year’s Day.

Yet beneath the glittering ads and countdown sales, the human heart whispers a truth we already know: Christmas was never meant to be bought. It was meant to be received. A Child, a promise, a Savior. That is the gift. Everything else is wrapping.

Still, the pressure is real. Families feel it. Parents feel it. Children absorb it. And our culture, armed with algorithms and psychology, insists that the only way to celebrate Christmas is to spend our way into significance.

But what if we remembered the ancient path? What if we recovered a holiday centered not on commercial frenzy but on covenant? Not on consumerism but on communion? Not on presents but on presence?

The Great Contrast: The Manufactured Urgency of the Marketplace vs. the Eternal Peace of God

We live in a world where marketing departments operate with religious fervor. Every message is engineered, every image optimized, every emotion targeted. Advertisers don’t simply sell products, they sell identities, stories, and a sense of belonging. They whisper: “If you buy this, you will be enough. Your family will be enough. Your holiday will be enough.”

But these are not benign messages. They are a modern liturgy of scarcity. Their theology is simple: You are lacking. And only we can complete you.

The kingdom of God preaches the opposite: You are loved. You are already given what matters most. The Babe in the manger is proof.

One kingdom tells you to frantically acquire. The other invites you to freely receive.

One kingdom accelerates time—rush, hurry, hurry! The other redeems time—“Be still and know that I am God.”

In the marketplace, Christmas is a performance. In the Gospel, Christmas is a promise fulfilled. And that distinction matters.

We cannot allow ourselves, or our children, to be discipled by corporations whose survival depends on our dissatisfaction. Christmas is not a competition. It’s a commemoration. It is the day heaven touched earth, not the day credit card debt touched new heights.

The Deeper Issue: When Gifts Replace Gratitude

Let me be clear: Gift-giving is beautiful. It is biblical. It reflects the generosity of a God who gives abundantly and without restraint. We give not out of compulsion but out of gratitude. We give because we have first received.

But somewhere along the way, we exchanged meaning for materialism. We stopped asking what a gift symbolizes and started asking how it ranks. Gifts were meant to be expressions of affection, not metrics of personal worth.

When gifts replace gratitude, we lose the heart of the season. When gifts replace service, we lose compassion. When gifts replace worship, we lose the wonder.

Like weeds growing around a healthy tree, commercialism doesn’t need to uproot Christmas to harm it; it merely needs to choke out the light.

A Better Way: Returning Christmas to Its Sacred Center

So how do we reclaim Christmas without rejecting the joy that comes with giving and receiving gifts? How do we resist the trap without becoming cynics?

We begin by remembering what Christmas actually is: a story of divine love wrapped in humility, not luxury.

A baby in a borrowed stable.
Shepherds with no status.
Wise men with gifts that pointed to a greater reality.
A star that led to a Savior, not a sale.

1. Practice Gift-Giving as Symbol, Not Spectacle

A gift should reflect thought, relationship, and love, not price tags. Instead of asking, “What will impress them?” ask, “What will bless them?” Instead of thinking, “How much should I spend?” ask, “What will help them flourish?”

A handwritten letter can outlast a gadget. A family tradition can outshine a toy.
A moment of reconciliation can heal far more than anything wrapped in ribbon.

2. Set Boundaries That Reflect Your Values, Not the Culture’s Expectations

You are not obligated to overspend to prove you care. Set financial boundaries. Honor them. Teach them to your children. A budget is not a barrier to joy, it is the guardrail that keeps joy from tumbling into regret.

Let your children see that love is measured in time, presence, and sacrifice—not in square footage under the tree.