Christian Holidays

“History is not the past, but a map of the past drawn from a particular point of view to be useful to the modern traveler.”
Henry Glassie

“Tradition does not mean that the living are dead, it means that the dead are living.”
Harold MacMillan

“Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.”
George Bernard Shaw

“Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead.”
G.K. Chesterton

“Tradition is a guide and not a jailer.”
W. Somerset Maugham

When it comes to our spiritual journey, Henry Glassie’s insight unsettles us with a crucial question: is the map we follow drawn by God, or have we unknowingly traced it with our own hands? Advent and Christmas, like many of our cherished observances, press us to face this tension. We light candles, hang wreaths, and enter a season of reflection. But upon what do we truly reflect? Do these practices point us toward Christ’s first coming and His imminent return, or have they become hollow traditions and rituals we pass through without encountering the One they claim to honor? And deeper still, are these traditions rooted in God’s Word, or have they grown entangled with the customs of men? These questions are not easy, but they are necessary. We must ask if our faith rests on biblical foundations, or has it, over time, become woven with human tradition—and if so, should it remain so?

The Influence of Pagan Practices
Tracing the origins of Advent and Christmas reveals shadows that stretch far beyond the manger. Before Christ was proclaimed, the Norse and Celts marked the winter solstice with evergreen branches, symbols of endurance as they sought the sun god’s revival. The Romans celebrated Saturnalia—a festival steeped in feasting, gift-giving, and candle lighting, all in the hope of coaxing their god’s return. As the early Roman Church expanded, it absorbed these cultural practices, weaving them into its calendar, much like it did with Easter and Halloween (All Hallows’ Eve and All Saints’ Day). Even the timing of Christ’s birth was entwined with pagan celebrations. Although the Bible gives no date, yet we align it with December 25th—more a result of the Catholic Church’s desire to replace the pagan festival of Dies Natalis Solis Invicti (Birthday of the Unconquered Sun, the official sun god of the late Roman Empire) than with an actual historical date. Certainly, Scripture suggests a scene more likely to be in the milder seasons with shepherds tending their flocks in the fields at night (Luke 2:8-20). Echoes of pagan practices persist in our religious observances today, and it is tempting to think these symbols have been sanctified through Christian tradition, but the reality is far more nuanced. Can practices once devoted to false gods truly be redeemed to honor the true God? Or do they carry the subtle residue of their origins, shaping our worship in ways we have yet to fully realize? Paul’s words in Colossians 2:8 challenge us with this: “See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ” (ESV). As we step into these traditions, we must ask ourselves: what do we invite into our worship? The evergreen may no longer be a token of pagan hope, but does it speak of Christ’s life—or have we forgotten its significance altogether? Can something born from paganism ever truly honor God, or does it only complicate our worship?

The Origins of Advent: A Tradition
The earliest followers of Christ did not mark their days by seasons as we do. They lived in the constant awareness of His promised return, not in yearly cycles, but in the pulse of every moment. Paul reminds the Thessalonians, “For you yourselves are fully aware that the day of the Lord will come like a thief in the night” (1 Thessalonians 5:2, ESV). Their expectation was not tied to a calendar—it was woven into the fabric of their lives. But somewhere along the way, this daily expectancy shifted into an annual ritual, and the birth of Christ became less a reality that defined every breath, and more a tradition we remember seasonally. Why do we need Advent or Christmas to remind us of what should be the very posture of our hearts at all times? Has the urgency of Christ’s return slipped from our daily consciousness, replaced by the comfort of a yearly observance? Paul’s warning in Galatians 5:9 calls for serious reflection: “A little leaven leavens the whole lump” (ESV). I cannot help but wonder what Paul might have said to the early Roman Church. Perhaps he would have written with a sense of sorrow and urgency, “I fear that what began in the Spirit is now being dressed in the robes of the world. How long will you mix the holy with the profane? Do not turn back to the ways from which you were delivered. Stand firm in the freedom Christ has given, and let not the shadows of the past obscure the light of His coming.” Such a rebuke might have stirred the Church to consider whether their traditions were slowly eroding the purity of the Gospel. We must ask ourselves the same question. When traditions, however comforting or beautiful, do not spring from Scripture, they risk distorting our faith. What “leaven” have we allowed into our observances? Do they draw us nearer to Christ, or do they cloud the simple, unadulterated Gospel?

Compromise Then, Compromise Now
It is easy to look back on the early Church and marvel at how they allowed pagan practices to slip in, but are we not guilty of similar compromises today? Whether it is in our worship, our theology, or our daily lives, the temptation to blend the sacred with the secular is a constant pull. We may not celebrate Saturnalia, but do we not feel the pressure to make our faith more palatable, more aligned with the world, more aligned to man’s understanding of love? Jesus’ rebuke to the Pharisees echoes through the centuries: “You leave the commandment of God and hold to the tradition of men” (Mark 7:8, ESV). This struggle is not confined to ancient times—it is alive in us today. Have we exchanged the radical call of the Gospel for something safer, something that fits more comfortably into the world’s expectations? Have our observances become more about ritual than remembrance, more about comfort than conviction? The problem is not tradition itself, but its impact. Does it lead us deeper into the mystery of Christ’s incarnation and His return, or has it become yet another layer we place over ourselves, insulating us from the very truth we are meant to embody?

Reflection or Ritual?
Traditions may point us toward the prophecies of Christ’s first coming, such as Isaiah 9:6: “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given” (ESV). It may also remind us of the promise of His return, as found in Matthew 24:30: “And they will see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with power and great glory” (ESV). These are critical truths, ones that should shape our hearts and minds daily, not just during one month of the year. Yet we must ask, do we need a specific season to reflect on these things? Do we need traditions to draw our hearts toward the reality of Christ’s incarnation and return, or should our meditation on these truths be an ongoing practice? Hebrews 9:28 reminds us that Christ “will appear a second time, not to deal with sin but to save those who are eagerly waiting for him” (ESV). This kind of anticipation is meant to be our constant reality, not something we set aside only for December.

Tradition or Transformation?
Tradition’s role within the church seems to hinge on how we approach it; we need to evaluate whether it leads to transformation or whether it is just another practice we observe out of habit. Paul’s exhortation in Romans 12:2 is particularly relevant here: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind” (ESV). The question is not whether the traditions are inherently wrong, but whether they contribute to the renewal of our minds or simply maintain the status quo of religious observance. The New Testament repeatedly warns against placing too much value on external practices. Matthew 15:9 echoes this sentiment: “In vain do they worship me, teaching as doctrines the commandments of men” (ESV). Advent, Christmas, Easter etc., like any tradition, can become hollow if it is not rooted in genuine faith. The value of such observances is entirely contingent on whether they point us to Christ and the Gospel or distract us from it. If our traditions have become a substitute for a daily walk with Christ, it has lost its purpose. The simplicity of the Gospel is enough. We do not need layers of tradition to augment what God has already made clear.

The Silence of Scripture on Seasons Like Advent
Christ’s first coming fulfilled countless prophecies, but the focus of the New Testament shifts quickly from His incarnation to the message of His Kingdom, death, resurrection, and second coming. The observance of any tradition is a matter of personal conviction. Some may find it helpful, while others may not. What is clear from Scripture is that these traditions are not essential to our faith. The biblical principle is this: “One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God” (Romans 14:5–6, ESV). What Paul tells us is that observing special days is a matter of personal conviction. If someone finds value in the practice, that is their liberty. Again, he reminds us in Colossians 2:16-17, “Let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink, or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a Sabbath. These are a shadow of the things to come, but the substance belongs to Christ” (ESV).

There is nothing wrong with commemorating Jesus’ birth and anticipating His return—such commemoration and anticipation should be an everyday part of our lives. However, dear reader, as with everything, ask yourself whether what you do drives you toward a deeper walk with Christ. It is easy to get swept up in rituals and feel we are drawing closer to God, but Scripture warns us against being led astray by human traditions (Colossians 2:8). We are called to a faith that is active, alive, and constantly seeking Christ. So, as you approach this Christmas season, challenge yourself: Are your observances leading you to genuine worship, or have they become distractions? Do not be afraid to reevaluate your focus. Commemorating Jesus’ birth and anticipating His return should be more than seasonal; it should resonate in the rhythm of our everyday lives. Let this be a reminder that Christ’s coming is not just a historical event, nor is His return something to acknowledge only in ritual. Both should shape the way you live, today and every day. True worship is not tied to a calendar; it flows from a heart set on Christ. Whatever day you choose to observe, let it serve its greatest purpose by directing your focus to the essence – Jesus Christ, therein lies its greatest value.