ONCE again, it’s Christmas time, and the Christian world begins its familiar countdown of anticipation—lanterns glowing along the streets, carols floating through the air, and families planning long-awaited reunions.
The air feels a little different in December, doesn’t it? There’s a softness to the breeze, a warmth to people’s smiles, and a certain magic even in the most ordinary routines.
But as we Filipinos look around us, it’s hard to ignore the shadows that dim the season’s light.
Corruption scandals continue to erode public trust, leaving many of us wondering whom to believe and where to place our faith. Prices of basic goods and services climb faster than salaries can keep up, forcing families to stretch their budgets with painful creativity. Calamities strike with merciless frequency—floods, earthquakes, typhoons—testing our readiness and resilience over and over again. Poverty remains a stubborn reality for millions of Filipinos who fight daily battles just to survive.
Around the world, wars displace families, claim innocent lives, and amplify fear on a global scale.
With so much pain and uncertainty, we can’t help but ask the question quietly sitting in the corners of our minds: Is celebrating Christmas still relevant?
Surprisingly—perhaps even defiantly—the answer is yes.
Christmas has never been about the absence of hardship. If we go back to the very first Christmas, we see a story wrapped in struggle. Mary and Joseph journeyed far from home, only to find doors closed to them. The Holy Family did not welcome the Child in comfort, but in a humble manger surrounded by straw. The shepherds who heard the angels’ proclamation were not wealthy nor powerful; they were ordinary workers living day to day. Yet that night is remembered not for its darkness, but for the light that burst through it—an unexplainable, radiant hope that arrived quietly, yet changed the world.
This is why Christmas still matters, especially now.
In many ways, we Filipinos carry the same spirit of that first Christmas. We are no strangers to storms—literal and metaphorical—yet each year we find ways to illuminate our communities. Some families craft parols out of old folders and leftover cellophane. Others hang simple capiz lanterns inherited from their grandparents. Even with borrowed lights or patchwork decorations, the joy we create is unmistakably sincere.
Our resilience, often joked about lightly—“Pinoy kasi, laging may reason para ngumiti”—is so much more than optimism. It is courage. It is our way of saying that adversity may bend us, but it will not break our will to celebrate life. Even in the face of hardship, we find ways to welcome joy, however small, because it reminds us that we are still alive, still hopeful, still human.
Celebrating Christmas, then, is not an act of denial. It is an act of defiance.
In a time when corruption steals our trust and hope, Christmas reminds us that light can grow in the smallest, unlikeliest places.
When prices go up and wallets grow thin, the season challenges us to be generous not with what we buy, but with the love and presence we give.
When calamities hit us again and again, Christmas calls us to solidarity—to hold each other up, to be each other’s shelter, to rebuild and rise together.
When wars rage and violence rises, the message of peace becomes more than a greeting—it becomes a responsibility we must carry into our daily lives.
Maybe this year, celebrating Christmas doesn’t mean extravagant meals or grand displays. Maybe it doesn’t require crossing off every item on a wish list or posting the perfect family photo online. Perhaps this year is about rediscovering what the season has always meant to teach us: compassion that sees beyond differences, humility that grounds us, gratitude for what remains, and hope for what’s possible.
So, is Christmas still relevant?
More than ever.
Because Christmas is not merely a holiday. It is a yearly pause that tells us—there is still goodness worth fighting for, still kindness worth giving, still hope worth holding onto. And in times like these, holding onto hope is not naive. It is necessary.
This year, let us celebrate not to escape our realities, but to gather strength to face them. Let Christmas be the light we carry into the new year—small, steady, and stubborn enough to shine through any darkness that comes our way.
May it remind us that no matter how heavy the world feels, there will always be room for wonder, for joy, and for the possibility of better days ahead.
