Why Christmas Eve Is More Magical Than Christmas Day

There is magic happening, right underneath our noses. To find it, we need only get still long enough to catch the scent, and follow it where it leads us…

Christmas Eve

Photo Credit: wuji9981 via Compfight cc

Ten years ago, my family celebrated Christmas Eve in a massive church, with thousands of other people. It was electric and exciting and when a thousand hands held up candles at the end of the service, it was breathtaking.

Five years ago, we celebrated Christmas Eve in a smaller church, but there were still hundreds in attendance and we wedged ourselves into pews with friends and family and the celebration was joyous. When the hundreds of hands held up candles at the end of the service, it didn’t take your breath away. But the flickering flames did calm it.

This year, we’ve moved to a small town and we’ve been attending a very small church. Every week, our family can count on our ten hands the number of people in attendance. I expect the Christmas Eve service will be no different. And I’m grateful for that. Because this year has been teaching me something I’ve been trying to learn for a lifetime: getting quiet and still and small brings us face-to-face with the ordinary.

And the ordinary is where the magic is.

We often get this backward. We think we must be extravagant to be exciting. We think bigger is better and more of a good thing is a great thing. Our vacations become accelerations and, on our days off, it becomes almost impossible to turn off. We try to make more magic by making more money and more memories and more commotion. But the real magic is never loud and bombastic.

The deeper magic is always quiet and subtle.

I think that’s why, when you ask people, most of us enjoy Christmas Eve more than Christmas Day. On Christmas day, we burst into a flourish of activity. Wrapping paper torn asunder, toys ripped open, new games inserted into old devices, new devices powered up for the first time, new clothes thrown on. Families hit the road to find the rest of the family and feasts are prepared and devoured and digested. Celebration expands. It’s extraordinary.

Which is where the magic gets lost.

In contrast, on Christmas Eve, we celebrate an ordinary story:

In an ordinary small town, an ordinary couple can’t find a place to stay. Then, this ordinary young girl gives birth to an ordinary baby. She wraps him in ordinary cloth. Ordinary animals look on. That’s it. That’s the whole story we’re celebrating. On the face of it, it’s just another night.

But then something happens on a quiet hillside outside of town.

A group of ordinary shepherds—which is to say, a group of the most ordinary men in the culture, the fringe, the forgotten—are spending the night with their flock. When suddenly, in the midst of the quiet and the stillness, magic bursts forth. The skies open and the divine crashes into the ordinary and announces that everything that seems ordinary is not. The hinge of history has happened, an ordinary baby has been born, but he’s also not ordinary.

He’s magical, too.

And so these ordinary men go sprinting into town, right toward the magic, and then they go sprinting around, announcing the magic that has been birthed in the midst of the ordinary. This story is the foundation of the faith celebrated on Christmas Eve. But it is also the foundation of our humanity:

To know that, in the midst of our ordinary human lives, magic is being birthed.

On Christmas morning there is not enough time or space or stillness to cup the ordinary in our hands and hold the ordinary in our minds. But Christmas Eve. It’s a night set aside for quiet and waiting. It’s a night set aside to attend to the ordinary.

Until we catch a glimpse of the magic.

Until the sound of Christmas carols drifting on the icy air from three blocks away lands on you like a reminder we’re all in this together, all connected, all one. Until the giggling of the children in the pew becomes a cup, filled to the brim with the Joy from which the universe sprung. Until the squirming children in the seat next to you become a pool, filled to the top with the Energy that gave birth to all things and holds all things together. Until the flickering candles become an icon for the Light at the center of existence and at the center of ourselves.

Until the magic becomes more real than the mundane.

Until, finally, you find your faith.

Faith that the ordinary in which the magic happens is all you’ll ever really need.

You can leave a comment by clicking here.


Next Post: The Top Ten UnTangled Posts of 2015

Free eBook: My eBook, The Marriage Manifesto: Turning Your World Upside Down, is available free to new blog subscribers. If you are not yet a subscriber, you can click here to subscribe, and your confirmation e-mail will include a link to download the eBook. Or, the book is also now available for Kindle and Nook.

Kelly is a licensed clinical psychologist and co-founder of Artisan Clinical Associates in Naperville, IL. He is also a writer and blogs regularly about the redemption of our personal, relational, and communal lives. Kelly is married, has three children, and enjoys learning from them how to be a kid again. You can find him on Facebook, Twitter, and Google+.

Please note: I reserve the right to delete comments that are offensive or off-topic.

11 thoughts on “Why Christmas Eve Is More Magical Than Christmas Day

  1. I wish you and your family a memorable, blessed and wondrous Christmas in your new home. (P.S. You are right, Christmas Eve is the best!)

  2. A blessed Christmas to you and your family. Again you have expressed the heart of our existence. We all need to remember to just breathe and experience the ordinary, the wonder and miracle that we call daily life instead of being slaves to time and busyness. Slow down and connect to what really matters. Thank you for sharing your gift of direction – your ability to direct us, through your writing, to reflect, grow and take the action that is needed to center us and enhance our stay upon this earth. Each Wednesday I feel like I am unwrapping a gift as I read your words.

  3. Merry calm ordinary to you in the midst of all that swirling magic that three younglings bring to the holiday. How beautiful those ordinary moments are!

  4. Love this. I can really relate. This year I’ll be celebrating Christmas eve in the company of my young son and husband. Lasagna. A fire. Christmas pyjamas. Totally ordinary, but for me, completely magical. Merry Christmas!

  5. Thank you again, Kelly, for the wonderful gift of words that you so generously share with us each week. May you and your family have a very blessed Merry Christmas in the ordinariness of its magic in the celebration of our Savior’s birth and may the New Year bring more “ordinary” blessings to you and your loved ones!

  6. Indeed, we are reminded of miracles and magic with each single breath we take. A single movement that relies on millions of cells and connections is extraordinary, and it is right there within our “ordinary” life. If we can hold space with this, magic and miracles occur hundreds, thousands a time of day, and life is a magical, mystical, miraculous gift indeed!

    Merry Christmas, Kelly!

  7. Thank you so much for reminding us of the true meaning of Christmas. May you and your family have a wonderful and blessed Christmas. I always look forward to reading your wonderful gift of wisdom and insight that you so generously share with us.

  8. Thank you for a wonderful reminder of what Christmas is all about. A gift for all who seek it. A gift that costs nothing but a willingness to give up the control that so many of us fight to hang on to. This year I vowed to slow down and truly enjoy the peace. I am fighting against the crowd both out there, and in our own home. Gadgets and rushing around crowd out the most important thing about the time, and the eve of that magical day. I’m going to share this article, and perhaps your words will inspire more to slow down enough to experience what is always awaiting them, should they choose to slow down and sit with the stillness that allows us to become more than we are.

  9. Hi all! Once the Christmas Eve post went up, I disconnected from computers and social media almost completely for a week and a half. Thanks for your kind words about this post, and I hope you were able to find a little of the Joy, Energy, and Light within the holiday season!

  10. Separating the ordinary, but extrodinary story of Jesus birth and welcome form the crazy excitement of presents, food, and people which is Christmas Day was a vital task, for me, as my children grew up. From a young age we would relax with the story on the evening of Christmas Eve, followed by the very grown up privilege of attending a midnight communion service. My adult children tell me this remains the most significant memory of Christmas, and along with a tree decoration for each child in the family each year is the tradition they continue. ( we never believed in Santa, we had enough magic)

Comments are closed.