The days after December 25th are always a bit strange. We’ve been hearing carols blaring on the radio since Halloween and engaging in all sorts of special Advent service and preparation for the nativity for months. Despite all of the anticipation for the jolliest time of year, I can’t help feeling a tiny ping of sadness every year when I see the first Christmas tree stripped of its ornaments and tossed out by the curb with the rest of the garbage. On occasion I’ve seen this even before January 1st. 

Christmas has always been my favorite holiday, long before my conversion to the faith. I admit that early on, and with a much more secular understanding of Christmas, I was often among those to partake in premature Christmas decoration and celebration. It was always the happiest time of year with my family and I strove to make it last as long as possible. 

Since coming to the faith and marrying my deeply devout husband, I’ve also come to a new understanding of the Christmas season. Contrary to popular belief, it actually begins on December 25th when we celebrate the birth of Christ. In parishes and on front lawns across the world, scenes of the infant Christ in the manger with Mary and Joseph remind us of the humble beginnings of our own salvation. This season extended all the way to January 7th, the Solemnity of the Epiphany and the arrival of the magi to Bethlehem where they paid homage to Christ. 

As previously mentioned I myself annually join in the premature Christmas merry making. My husband and I are working on taking a more liturgical approach to the Christmas season which means not setting the star atop our own tree until Christmas Eve. However, it also means fully embracing the joy of the season for the entirety of the season. We shouldn’t be cutting it short just because old Saint Nick has already come and gone. The Christmas season is first and foremost a devotion to Christ.