The Work of Christmas
Think of the Christmas cards you sent…or of the cards you received. Smiling faces, exciting locations, memorable moments…all framed by words like PEACE, JOY, LOVE. Of course, we all know that’s not the whole story of the faces printed on the paper—even the ones that list all the year’s accomplishments on the back of the card.
Our Christmas cards don’t tell our whole story any more completely than scripture tells the whole story of that first Christmas. Although the songs of poets and renderings of painters portray an idyllic, yet humble setting where even the barnyard animals appear to be smiling, we know there’s more to the story.
We know, for example, that this not-yet-holy family was forced by an emperor to travel a long distance just for tax purposes. And when this family arrived in Joseph’s hometown, he wasn’t met with a hero’s welcome but by a grumpy innkeeper, a no-vacancy sign and an order to sleep in the shed.
Mary’s whole story would have to include a sore back and swollen ankles, a soul weary from the judgment of friends and the disappointment of parents, and raw fear for the future of her unborn child.
Yet the moment frozen in time looks like the snapshot of a Christmas card: framed by the peace of a star, the joy of a healthy babe, the love of proud parents and grinning farm animals. But, again, that’s not the whole story.
It’s not my intention to vandalize the portrait we have of Christmas with the graffiti of reality; I don’t want to hijack the thinness of this season or be a yuletide buzz-kill.
I want to let the harder details of the story usher in the fullness of its power. After all, it’s the totality of the story that reveals the wholeness of God’s love.
The whole story reminds us that all of this is created by the love of a God who knows the whole truth and loves us right through every sentence, paragraph, page and chapter of it.
The whole story of Christmas doesn’t end with a birthing cry in a stable beneath a star. For Joseph and Mary, it was a moment buzzing with the presence of God—but it was only the beginning. For Jesus, an infant, it was just the start. For all of them, and for all of us, the real work of Christmas had not yet begun.
For 30 years of pastoral ministry, I gave my congregations the same invitation on nearly every Christmas Eve: do nothing. And I stand by that encouragement. For just that one day, receive the fullness of God’s gift, marvel in the thinness of the space, and delight in the margin of time provided.
But what happens next is of ultimate, eternal value. What brings glory, honor, and purpose to the divine gift of Christmas is our response to it—our response to the hand of God reaching down, with sleeves rolled up, inviting us to do the work of Christmas.
The whole story of Christmas includes what God will do, and what we will do, in each and every tomorrow to respond to the love and light of Jesus. The rest of the story is yet to be written, and we get to co-author it with the God of the Universe, who knows us by name and knows us by need.
In honest moments we acknowledge that this holiday is not the perfect picture we see in Christmas cards. There are things we would do differently and there is so much more we want to do. And that’s all OK. Because the work of Christmas is in us, awaiting our answer to the question that follows every Christmas Day: What’s next?
Howard Thurman puts it simply and poetically this way:
When the song of the angels is stilled,
When the star in the sky is gone,
When the kings and princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flock,
The work of Christmas begins:
To find the lost, to heal the broken, to feed the hungry, to release the prisoner, to rebuild the nations, to bring peace among brothers, to make music in the heart.
Friends, there’s plenty of work to be done in our world these days. Thurman offers his ideas, but the ones that matter most are yours. What will be the work of Christmas for you this year? How will the days after Jesus’ birth be different from the days before?
We are all capable of doing the work of Christmas and it begins in our hearts. So, let’s get to work.
Merry Christmas.
Rev. Dr. John F. Ross
Executive Director of The Saint John’s Bible Heritage Program
December 2025