The Claim Christianity Makes at Christmas

Christmas demands something of us, not mere sentimentality.

“Because of his boundless love, Jesus became what we are that he might make us to be what He is.”

— St. Irenaeus of Lyons (c. 130 – 202)

It’s baffling to read something like that, written in the First Century. St. Irenaeus was a bishop in the early Church, before the Bible existed as a singular book and while persecution and martyrdom were expected consequences of holding the Faith. It was in that environment that such a dogma was articulated clearly nonetheless.

We consider ourselves more educated or perhaps even more intelligent than those of the past, as if the advancement of time must align with greater individual understanding. But St. Irenaeus’ world was not actually black and white, and far less of his time was spent scrolling through 30-second video reels.

The very idea that God became Man that man could partake in the Divine is something that causes most of us to ruminate at length. We struggle with it, or perhaps even wrestle against it. Yet it has been a constant feature of our Faith for 2,000 years. It is the why to Christ’s suffering and death.

If it is true, then it demands something of us. Christianity cannot be a mere spectator religion, nor a convenient sentimentality. Christ came to elevate us, and that elevation demands a conversion that makes us quiver. The enormity of the claim is why people like Polycarp were willing to accept martyrdom rather than renounce it—a fate that likely met Irenaeus too. The notion is so uncompromising that if it is true, it leaves no part of us untouched.

Perhaps the issue is not that the dogma is overly complex. It is that it disturbs our consciences. I may not know your soul, but I know my own, and I know how unworthy I am of a perfect man lifting a finger for me, never mind what He ultimately suffered for me and for you. In times like this moment, when we reflect on Christ’s birth, it is right that we might consider what we can give back in thanksgiving.

We know that grace builds on nature, and that who we are is all that we control. In other words, we cannot control God and His outpouring of grace, but we can change our receptivity and our virtuousness. By fixing ourselves, we thus become more available to be God’s instruments, to help bring the light of Christ into a darkened world. Through this, we can offer ourselves back to God, in the only gift that we can give Him. It’s a strange paradox: the only gift that we can give Him is our everything.

As we approach the day of Christ’s birth, now largely dominated by gift-giving, may we consider how to give Him the only gift we can next year.

Have a merry Christmas.

P.S. Thank you to all who make this publication possible. One-hundred people are now paying subscribers, and almost 4,000 subscribe to freely read and share these essays. I am grateful for all of you, and I hope that in at least some small way, this publication might help you to maintain your sanity in a world of uncertain, relativistic morality, and draw closer to Christ. You will all remain in my prayers throughout 2026.