“The central miracle asserted by Christians is the Incarnation. They say that God became Man. Every other miracle prepares for this, or exhibits this, or results from this.” – C.S. Lewis.
One of the quiet dangers of Christmas is familiarity. We know the story so well that we risk losing our sense of wonder. Angels, shepherds, a manger, a star—we can recite the details almost by heart. Yet Christmas was never meant to be merely remembered; it was meant to be marveled at. Jesus coming to Earth is an “unfathomable” concept because it is something the human mind cannot fully grasp: the eternal God stepped into time. The Creator entered His creation. The Word became flesh and dwelt among us (John 1:14). This is not poetic exaggeration; it is holy truth. The infinite became infant—the One who spoke the universe into being arrived on earth in a Bethlehem stable. That alone should stop us in awe.
The wonder deepens when we consider how God chose to come. Jesus was not born into privilege or power. He arrived quietly, humbly, almost unnoticed by the world. Shepherds—working the night shift, overlooked by society—were among the first invited to see Him. A teenage girl carried the Son of God. A feeding trough became a cradle. Heaven’s glory was revealed not through spectacle, but through simplicity.
Still, wonder can be fragile. Busy schedules, unmet expectations, grief, or long-held disappointments can dull our awe. For many, Christmas carries both joy and sorrow. Yet even here, the wonder remains. Christmas does not deny the darkness; it enters it. The light of Christ shines not because the world is cheerful, but because it is broken. And that light, Scripture promises, “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it” (John 1:5).
To recover our awe this Christmas, we must slow down long enough to marvel. Awe grows when we remember that God did not remain distant. He came close. He took on our limitations, our pain, and our vulnerability—not to observe us, but to redeem us. The Incarnation tells us that no part of human life is untouched by God’s love.
This Christmas, may we move beyond routine and rediscover wonder. May the familiar story awaken fresh gratitude, deeper worship, and renewed hope as we stand in awe of Emmanuel—God with us.
To recover the wonder of Christmas, we may need to slow down and look again. Look at the manger—not as a decoration, but as a declaration. God is with us. God is for us. God has come not to impress us, but to rescue us. Wonder grows when we remember that Christmas is not about what we bring to God, but about what God has given to us.
May we never lose sight of the awe of Christmas—not just in December, but throughout our lives. May the familiar story continue to astonish us.
Discussion Questions:
- Why do you think familiarity with the Christmas story can cause us to lose a sense of wonder, and what practices can help us see the story with fresh eyes again?
- How does the humility of Jesus’ birth (the manger, the shepherds, the ordinary setting) deepen our understanding of God’s character and love?
- Where do you most need to rediscover the wonder of Christmas in your own life this season—in worship, in trust, or in how you share Christ with others?