King of All Creation: Keeping Christ at the Center this Christmas

Earlier this month, our family received a lovely box of Christmas cookies, each one a tiny masterpiece of sugar and frosting. Among them was a sugar cookie shaped like the contiguous 48 states, its blue, red, and white frosting swirled to resemble the American flag. Star-shaped sprinkles completed the patriotic design. It was a magnificent cookie, a work of culinary art, and my daughter Lily can attest that it was lemony and delicious.

As a centerpiece for a Fourth of July celebration, this cookie would have been perfect. But nestled among Christmas trees, snowflakes, and gingerbread men, its presence felt a little out of place. The juxtaposition made me pause and reflect on how easily patriotism can blur into our sacred spaces, especially at Christmas, and how Christian Nationalism—sometimes subtly, sometimes overtly—can creep into our hearts and minds.

At Christmas, we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, whom Handel’s Messiah proclaims as the King of Kings and Lord of Lords. This declaration, drawn from Revelation 19:16, reminds us that Christ’s reign transcends all earthly kingdoms. Jesus is not merely a king among kings; Jesus is the King of all creation—of every land, every people, and the entire cosmos.

The Hallelujah Chorus exults in this truth: “The kingdom of this world is become the kingdom of our Lord, and of His Christ; and He shall reign forever and ever!” These words remind us that Christ’s kingship is not confined to one nation or one culture. When we reduce Jesus to the King of America—or any nation—we’ve lost the plot. We’ve made God so much smaller than God is.

Christian nationalism takes many forms, often subtle and well-intentioned. It can look like a cookie in a box of Christmas treats or a flag draped over a cross in a sanctuary. It whispers that our nation is uniquely chosen by God, that our laws and leaders are the primary instruments of divine will. It suggests that to be a good Christian is to align our faith with patriotic ideals, often conflating the kingdom of God with the interests of our earthly nation.

Yet Jesus’ birth was not announced with fanfare in a palace or capital city. It was proclaimed to shepherds in a field, wise travelers from foreign lands, and a young, humble couple in a stable. Jesus came not to elevate one nation above others but to bring salvation to all people. The angels’ song—“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, goodwill toward men”—was a universal anthem, not a national one.

This Christmas, as we celebrate the birth of Christ, let us resist the temptation to conflate our faith with national identity. This is not to dismiss patriotism or gratitude for our country. There is nothing wrong with celebrating the blessings of our homeland, just as there is nothing wrong with enjoying a lemony sugar cookie shaped like the United States. But when those things overshadow our allegiance to Christ, when they begin to steal the throne of our hearts, it’s time to take notice.

As we gather around our Christmas trees, unwrap presents, and share cookies with loved ones, let’s take a moment to reflect on where our hearts are focused. Is it on the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, whose birth we celebrate? Or has something else crept in, however subtly, to steal the throne?

Let’s recommit ourselves to Christ this Christmas. Let’s make room for the One who came to bring peace on earth, goodwill to all.

Blessings to you this Christmas,