I do love Christmas—the whole Christmas season. I told the family on our way to a Christmas Eve worship service that I was sad that it was Christmas Eve already. Christmas Eve means the beginning of the end of the Christmas season. I love everything about Christmas: decorating the tree, putting up lights, Christmas cookies, time spent doing fun things with family and friends. And, like everybody else, I enjoy the gifts. I enjoy giving gifts. I enjoy the look on Kim’s face when she opens up something she didn’t expect. I enjoy the anticipation of watching the kids open something that I know they are going to like. And I enjoy the gifts given to me! I keep an on-going Christmas list; if I didn’t get something this year, I just roll it over to next year’s list.

And I personally have no problem with the gift-giving aspect of Christmas. Is it commercialized? Absolutely. Does it feed my latent materialism? Without a doubt. But those things are there anyway; gift-giving just forces the issue. It makes me wrestle with the deeper issues of Christmas. Greed, disappointment, lack of contentment—gift-giving makes me look at those things square in the face. And that ain’t bad.

So the question is this. How can I enjoy the giving (and receiving) of gifts without making the giving (and receiving) of gifts the basis of my enjoyment? In other words, how is it different for a Christian to give and receive gifts than it is for a non-Christian? How does the gospel redeem the gift-giving aspect of Christmas? Or does it?

I believe it does. You see, as a Christian, I don’t have to separate my celebration of Christmas. I don’t have to make Santa and gift-giving separate from the birth of the Savior in Bethlehem. You see, there are two extremes to celebrating Christmas. The secularist sees no need for a Savior, so all he has is gift-giving. But too many Christians, in their zeal to be righteous, see no need for Santa and gift-giving. It is simply secular (even pagan) traditions attached to the real meaning of Christmas. But, to me, the gospel allows both. The gospel redeems gift-giving.

You see, as a Christian, I don’t have to view Christmas as two separate entities: Santa Claus and the birth of Jesus, at best, in peaceful coexistence, and at worst, in competition for the center-stage of my soul. The gospel has redeemed gift-giving. You see, it is like this. Every gift that I enjoy, from the everyday gifts of health and happiness to the ones under the tree, comes to me because of the cross. The book of James tells us this. Every good and perfect gift comes from above, from the Father of lights (1:17). As a child of God, every blessing I receive is simply an extension of the cross, the greatest blessing that I will ever receive.

The cross makes everything different, better, fuller. Good things are richer, and bad things are deeper, because of the cross. Blessings pale in comparison to the cross, and sufferings find their true meaning in the cross. The cross allows me to laugh the hardest and cry the deepest. The world can see Christmas as an escape, but not the Christian. We can enjoy it to its fullest but not require it to be anything more than a gift from God, a blessing to be enjoyed. A gift is meant to be enjoyed, not used. God, however, is meant to be used, not simply enjoyed.

You see, a Christian and a non-Christian can receive the same gift on the same Christmas morning, but a Christian receives it in a far-different way. I receive a gift with a thankful heart, knowing that I don’t deserve it. I receive a gift as a gift, not a necessity. I don’t have to have the perfect gift, or even the perfect Christmas, for that matter. I can enjoy it, but I don’t need it. For the non-Christian, however, Santa is all there is.

The beauty of Christmas is that I can enjoy the gifts under the tree because of Calvary’s tree.