“Merry in the Season, Missing the Message of Christ?”

Family, as we gather during this holiday season—sharing meals, laughter, gifts, and moments of togetherness—I want us to pause, not to take away from the joy, but to ground it in truth. This season is meant to remind us of Jesus, not just His birth, but His character and His teachings. And we have to ask ourselves honestly, in love and not in judgment: are we really living in a way that reflects what He taught?

While many of us are surrounded by family, there are families right now being torn apart by immigration policies enforced without compassion, ethics, or humanity. Somewhere at this very moment, a parent is frantic because their children are missing. Others are crushed under unemployment, rising inflation, and uncertainty about tomorrow.

In Gaza, families are trying to survive in a landscape reduced to rubble, where bombs have erased homes, schools, and hospitals. In the Congo, genocide continues while the world watches in silence. These are not abstract headlines—they are real lives, and Jesus never treated suffering as something to look away from.

Jesus made it plain in Matthew 25 when He spoke about the Judgment of the Nations: “I was a stranger and you did not welcome me… whatever you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for me.” That scripture leaves no room for separating faith from responsibility. It challenges us directly, because how we treat the vulnerable is how Christ says we treat Him.

Jesus also warned us about hypocrisy. In Matthew 23, He condemned those who appeared righteous but upheld injustice, saying they neglected “the weightier matters of the law—justice, mercy, and faithfulness.” His rebuke wasn’t aimed at struggling people—it was aimed at systems, institutions, and leaders who used God’s name while aligning themselves with power instead of justice. Belief without action meant nothing to Him.

When Jesus told the story of the Good Samaritan, He shattered the idea that our neighbor only includes people who look like us, live near us, or think like us. The one who showed mercy was the one society looked down on. Immigrants, Palestinians, Congolese civilians—those labeled as “others” today—are exactly the people Jesus placed at the center of moral responsibility. National borders, political loyalties, and talking points do not excuse cruelty in His teachings.

He offered no exemptions for governments, no justifications for collective punishment, and no cover for violence wrapped in religious language. When a sword was raised to defend Him, He said, “Put it away.” If Jesus refused violence even to save His own life, then mass violence can never honestly be defended in His name.

And we also have to be honest about this: no political party is truly innocent in the condition of the world we’re living in. One party is not the savior while the other is the villain. Across the board, there has been silence, weak resistance, and empty speeches while atrocities continue. Too many leaders prioritize power, elections, and party loyalty over human life. By not speaking louder, by not acting bolder, and by allowing injustice to continue, political systems become complicit. These wrongs must be addressed, and we can’t keep pretending that aligning with a party absolves us of responsibility.

This is bigger than politics and bigger than labels. It doesn’t matter what we call ourselves—Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, Jewish, or anything else. We have to break out of the mindset that says we don’t have a role in the climate we’re living in. Every one of us bears some responsibility when we stay silent, look away, or excuse injustice because it’s inconvenient or uncomfortable. Faith, in any tradition, is empty if it does not move us toward compassion, accountability, and action.

This season isn’t about what’s under the tree—it’s about what’s in our hearts and what we’re willing to do with our hands. The greatest gift isn’t material; it’s choosing to help someone who needs a second chance, visiting shelters, feeding the hungry, and standing up for those whose voices are ignored. It’s redirecting some of what we spend on excess toward healing a broken society.

These are uncomfortable but necessary questions. Are we really loving God with all our heart if we ignore His children? Are we really loving our neighbor if our faith stops at words? It takes more than prayer—it takes application. It’s not what we call ourselves that matters. It’s what we do. And if we’re honest enough to face that truth, then maybe this holiday season can be more than celebration—it can be a turning point toward living the values we say we believe in.