Patches of stubborn November snow dotted the landscape, refracting the headlights of my idling ’04 Honda Civic. I had limped to the end of a full Sunday and sat motionless in our apartment’s parking lot. It was my first Christmas season as a worship pastor and I was crumbling under the weight of traditions, expectations, and the fear of man. My new wife, Emily, sat beside me, patiently waiting and praying for the Lord to shine light into the gloom of my discouragement. Our first Christmas together was shaping up to be anything but merry and bright. As our vacant stares surveyed the snow-strewn hill through the windshield, the Lord surveyed my heart, piercing it with his word. He led me to grapple with my grief, and understanding struck me like a sword thrust; my soul was parched by the pursuit of man’s praise. I had secretly traded the Treasure in the manger for the trinkets of compliments and reputation. I believed the lie that I would be safe and happy if people thought that I was a great worship pastor. That cold November night, I discovered that my good Shepherd loved me too much to let me run after another god. He was turning over the tables in my heart to bring me back to the real meaning of Christmas – the reason for all the brightness and merriment – the motivation for all the traditions and expectations of the church; “In Him was life, and the life was the light of men (John 1:4).”

Sin is sinister. It comes to you wrapped in the garb of goodness and light, offering you the world in whispered words of welcome and wonder. Once the serpent has you in its coiled grip, it squeezes your soul until it’s breathless and blue – only to return with another offer. Sin would have this cycle continue until you follow it into the very depths of Hell. “The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply (Psalm 16:4a).” “Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the LORD, he is like a shrub in the desert, and shall not see any good come, He shall dwell in the parched places of the wilderness, in an uninhabited salt land (Jeremiah 17:5-6).” The pursuit of sin leads to multiplied sorrows and a thirsty soul.

And yet, we are not merely victims of the serpent’s schemes. Our hands are red with the guilt of an egregious exchange. “What wrong did your fathers find in me that they went far from me, and went after worthlessness, and became worthless (Jeremiah 2:5)?” The choice to seek life in anything other than God is loud. It slanders and shouts. “God will not give you life” is sin’s propaganda. We print sin’s press when we exchange God for the praise of man or any other idol. Our actions communicate what we may never say out loud; “See this created thing? This is better than God.” As I exhaled exhaustion on that frozen Sunday night, I was coming to grips with the sobering reality that my pursuit of man’s praise had left me guilty, sorrowful, and parched. This Spirit-wrought recognition could have led to greater despair, but “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it (John 1:5).” The living Christ was drawing near, shining his light into my darkness, and leading me to one of his greatest Christmas gifts; the gift of repentance.

Christmas is dulled by a lack of personal repentance. The Angel told Joseph to “call his name Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins (Matthew 1:21).” John the Baptist shouted, “Behold. The Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world (John 1:29)!” Christmas is a celebration of a Savior who came to save sinners. The unrepentant walks through the Christmas season at an impersonal distance from the Child in the manger. They cannot taste the sweetness of Christmas because they have never known the tender love and grace of the Word made flesh.

Repentance is a Christmas gift. If you are reading this and know that you have exchanged God for something else, I invite you to look down at the present that Christ has placed into your hands. As you unwrap repentance, you will first walk through the darkness of reckoning with your sin. Confess it to the Lord. Then rejoice and hold aloft the bright and shining grace that is yours in Christ. The Child in the manger came for you! You are among the sinners that Jesus saves from sin. The Lamb of God has taken your sin away through his atoning sacrifice. From his fullness, you have received grace upon grace.

That wintery night outside my apartment, I repented of the ways that I had exchanged my God for the praise of man. It was not the first time and would not be the last. As I turned from sin’s darkness to Christ’s overflowing grace, joy began blossoming in my soul. Christmas regained its ancient splendor as I remembered through repentance that I was one of the sinners that Christ came to save.