What Is The Bible?
This article was written as part of the January 2026 Perspective Journal. Two men in their late twenties sat in the middle of a church fellowship hall, surrounded by a …
December 1, 2025 • Aaron Menikoff

When I was much younger, my father gave me a boxed set of C. S. Lewis’s now-classic, Chronicles of Narnia series. I digested each book with childish delight. The pages were worn by the time I was an adult, and now that I’ve re-read them many times over with my own children, the books are practically falling apart. If you’ve ever spent time in Narnia, you know why.
The Lion the Witch and the Wardrobe is the first book in the series. Young Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy Pevensie find themselves in the strange land of Narnia. It’s a realm ruled by the White Witch, a woman wicked to the core. There is no love in her soul. She likes to be served. She worships herself and expects every creature in the land to do the same. And if they don’t she simply turns them into a statue of stone—as villains in children’s books are prone to do!
Narnia under the lordship of the White Witch is smothered by a cold tarp of snow. The land is as frosty as the witch’s heart. It’s not the kind of snow one can enjoy—think sledding, snowball fights, and hot chocolate. No, this snow pierces with dread. It’s a hopeless, joyless cold. It is, as Mr. Beaver put it, “Always winter and never Christmas.”
“Always winter and never Christmas.”
That line meant something to Lewis. Most people remember Lewis as the author of fanciful, even spiritual, science fiction. He had a fertile imagination, ripe with interesting characters and even more remarkable places. (My favorite may be the land of Bism, a land so far below the earth that the gems are still alive. Rubies melt in your mouth and diamonds can be juiced!) But Lewis was more than an author. He was first and foremost a Christian. And when he described Narnia as a Christmas-less, frozen tundra, he didn’t just mean it was a land without decorations and presents, eggnog and sales—he meant it as a land without hope, and that is far, far worse.
And yet, not long after the Pevensie children arrive, something tremendous happens. Christmas returns with a most familiar character:
It was a sledge, and it was reindeer with bells on their harness. But they were far bigger than the Witch’s reindeer, and they were not white but brown. And on the sledge sat a person whom everyone knew the moment they set eyes on him. He was a huge man in a bright red robe (bright as holly-berries) with a hood that had fur inside and a great white beard that fell like a foamy waterfall over his chest. Everyone knew him because, though you see people of his sort only in Narnia, you see pictures of them and hear them talked about even in our world—the world on this side of the wardrobe door. But when you really see them in Narnia it is rather different. Some of the pictures of Father Christmas in our world make him look only funny and jolly. But now that the children actually stood looking at him they didn’t find it quite like that. He was so big, and so glad, and so real, that they all became quite still. They felt very glad, but also solemn.
“I’ve come at last,” said he. “She has kept me out for a long time, but I have come at last. Aslan is on the move. The Witch’s magic is weakening.”
Your house may not make much of Santa Claus, but keep in mind that Lewis wrote for a wide audience. He had a message: Christmas is coming because “Aslan is on the move.” Aslan is the True King of Narnia. Narnia wouldn’t be saved by Father Christmas. He was simply the evidence that Aslan had arrived. And with Aslan comes hope. Christmas isn’t fundamentally about the arrival of a large man bearing gifts—even in Narnia. Christmas is about the coming of God Most High bearing salvation. Christmas is about God being on the move. And so we can rightly say that with Christ on our side it is always Christmas and never winter.
In light of all this, it’s good for us to pause and spend a few moments thinking about Christmas: what it is, why it happened, why it’s important, how we should celebrate it, and how it should change our lives. After all, God is on the move. Here are 10 questions to get you thinking about the meaning of Christmas.
We’ll think theologically about what Christmas means in a moment. But the actual word, “Christmas” is a compound word. “Christ” is a title and it corresponds to the Hebrew word, Messiah or Anointed One. To say that Jesus is the Christ is to say he is the Anointed One, the King. “Mass” is a word most often associated with the commemoration of Christ’s death by the taking of the bread and the cup (i.e., the Lord’s Supper). But mass simple means feast day—a religious day of celebration. So Christ-mass or Christmas is a day to celebrate Christ.
The earliest Christians didn’t make much of special days, other then Sunday. Every Sunday was set aside to recall the resurrection of the Savior. In a smaller way, every Friday was an opportunity to fast and mourn the death of the Lord. When Christians began setting aside days for annual celebrations, Resurrection Day was the most important celebration added to the calendar. But Christmas soon followed.
The exact date of Jesus’ birth is unknown, but Christians eventually celebrated it nonetheless. Virtually every month has been put forward as the possible month of Jesus’ birth. Starting in the third century the incarnation was commemorated on January 6, the feast of Epiphany. However, churches in the fourth century adopted December 25, probably to replace several Roman, pagan holidays held at this time.
Three names stand out. It’s not that these men deserve the blame for the blatant commercialism of Christmas, but their creativity caught the imagination of a generation that found a way to reinvent Christmas in the popular forms we find today.
The first is Washington Irving. Most of us know this nineteenth-century writer for his famous works, The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Rip van Winkle. However his lesser-known work arguably had an even greater impact. In 1809 Irving wrote Knickerbocker’s History of New York. In this book he made fun of colonial America, including the Dutch settlers who called Nicholas, their patron saint, Sancte Claus. Irving describes St. Nicholas riding over treetops, smoking a pipe, and putting presents in stockings hung in front of chimneys.
It’s important to keep in mind that Christians in America at this time weren’t sure what to do with Christmas. Many refrained from making one day more sacred lest the other days be considered less sacred. But Irving’s portrayal of families singing carols around a holiday feast were charming and compelling.
The second is Clement Clarke Moore, a religion professor who, in 1823, wrote a little poem, A Visit from St. Nicholas, for his children. It begins with the famous line, “‘Twas the night before Christmas,” and goes on to discuss children with “visions of sugar-plums” dancing in their heads, jolly St. Nick calling out to Dasher, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Doner, and Blitzen, and toys delivered by a merry man with a “nose like a cherry.” Moore’s imaginative words spread like wildfire. From then on, it was hard to think about Christmas without mention of the gift-giving St. Nick.
Fast-forward to 1931 and we encounter our third name, Haddon Sundblom. The Coca-Cola Company commissioned Sundblom to create a vision of Santa Claus to help market all things Coke. The Michigan-born artist conjured up his memory of Moore’s poem and for over thirty years Sundblom painted images of St. Nick that have been seared into the American consciousness. Close your eyes and think of Santa and it more than likely one of Sundblom’s pictures will appear in your head. It shouldn’t be a surprise to learn that Coca-Cola’s Santa was the first to be dressed in a bright, red suit.
Between the satirical history of Irving, the poetry of Moore, and the pictures of Sundblom a holiday narrative was created that appealed to every American girl and boy and provided a secular foundation upon which to build many of the Christmas traditions we still practice today.
This is not the fault of Irving, Moore, and Sundblom, it’s the problem of the human heart. It has been our inclination, our bent, to take good gifts from God (i.e., the birth of a Savior) and trivialize them (i.e., “Have a holly, jolly Christmas”). We do this all year long, not just at Christmas. Long ago, through the prophet Isaiah, the Lord said about Israel, “This people draw near with their mouth and honor me with their lips, while their hearts are far from me” (Isa 29:13). In other words, we are quite able to give the impression that we are worshipping God while, in reality, he means nothing to us. The commercialization of Christmas is living proof of the ability of the human heart to twist God’s good gifts. Satan is pleased when people sing of the incarnation with their lips while in their hearts they reject the Savior King.
It is wrong to make light of the incarnation. Our God is not to be trivialized. He is holy, just, and good. He is strong, righteous, and powerful. In Christ God took on flesh and dwelt among us that we might know him, and so that he might one-day die for sinners like us. If you can’t honor that message while decorating trees, putting up holly, and singing Bing Crosby then, by all means, throw out the tree, discard the holly, and put Bing Crosby to rest! There is nothing inherently Christian about any of this, and that’s something every true Christian has to keep in mind.
I’m glad you asked. It is crucial that we think biblically about Jesus’ birth. To do that, we need to read the Bible. It’s only as we immerse ourselves in the Word of God that Christmas can have any redemptive meaning in our lives. Take some time over the course of the next few weeks, and read through some passage that speak of the incarnation: Isaiah 7:19-25; Isaiah 9:1-7; Isaiah 42:1-9; Jeremiah 23:1-8; Malachi 3:1-5; Matthew 1:18-2:12; Luke 1:26-2:21; John 1:1-34; Philippians 2:1-11; Hebrews 4:14-5:10; 1 John 1:1.
The word, “Christmas,” can’t be found in the Bible. But remember, at Christmas we celebrate the incarnation of God. We commemorate the fact that God took on flesh, in Christ, and dwelt among us. And we have hints and promises of this great fact throughout the Bible, long before the pages of the New Testament.
The earliest hint is Genesis 3:15. You may recall that Genesis 3 is a record of the fall—the moment humanity rebelled against God and fell from a state of perfect fellowship with God. This fall brought upon Adam and Eve God’s curse. Not only would the pair experience death, but the woman was told childbearing would now be painful, and the man was warned that work would now be harsh. But it’s not just Adam and Eve who were cursed, but the horrible tempter, Satan, was cursed, too. Satan had entered the Garden of Eden and encouraged them to reject God’s good commands. And God judged Satan for it. Notice, carefully, the word of judgment: “I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your offspring and her offspring; he shall bruise your head, and you shall bruise his heel” (Gen 3:15).
In these words of judgment against Satan is a word of hope for us. Satan is told that he will one day bruise the heel of the woman’s offspring. But notice what her offspring will do: he will bruise Satan’s head! Christians have called this verse the protoevangelion—the first sharing of the gospel! What is described in blurry terms in Genesis 3:15 took place in HD clarity on the cross. Jesus was bruised—he was crucified. And Satan rejoiced over this. But on that cross something Satan should have expected took place: the Son of God bruised Satan’s head. In other words, the power of Satan was destroyed. As Paul put it in Colossians 2:15, Jesus “disarmed the rulers and authorities and put them to open shame, by triumphing over them in him.”
There is a promise of a Savior in Genesis 3:15—a man will one day conquer Satan. That’s what we celebrate at Christmas, the birth of the Son of God, the God-man, who would one day bruise the head of Satan for the sake of our salvation.
Before I even address the question of “how,” it’s important to recognize that this is the plain teaching of Scripture. John 1:14, “And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” John testifies that the Word became flesh. And in John 1:1, John makes it clear who, exactly, this Word is. He is none other than God himself: “and the Word was God.” So before we even try to wrap our puny minds around how this is possible, it’s crucial to admit that this is clearly what the Bible teaches.
But how is this possible? Certainly it pushes against what we consider to be reasonable! Yes, it does. Still, is it any less reasonable than an eternal God creating all things out of nothing (Gen 1:1)? Is it any harder to believe in the incarnation than it is to believe that a dead man was brought to life (Jn 11:44; 20:1-10)?
When we say that God took on flesh, we are saying that the sovereign God chose to reveal himself in humanity. Jesus is fully God and fully man. We are not saying that Jesus gave up his divinity when he took on flesh. We are saying that he took on our humanity. Jesus “made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men” (Phil 2:7).
This was the question posed by the eleventh-century archbishop of Canterbury, Anselm, who in 1098 wrote his most famous work, Cur Deus Homo or, Why Did God Become Man? Anselm disagreed with those who insisted that on the cross Jesus paid a ransom to Satan. To say such a thing would be to assert that somehow humanity owed a debt to Satan, as if Satan needed to be paid back for our sin.
Anselm found this idea thoroughly unbiblical. God, not Satan, is the offended party in our sin. The ransom must be paid to God. Anselm described sin as robbing God of the honor due him. It’s the failure to give God what he deserves.
God can’t allow our rebellion to go unpunished, Anselm said. But how can we be forgiven. If God is infinite, the debt we owe him is infinite, too. How can a finite, sinful human being pay back an infinite debt to an infinitely holy God? Anselm recognized this as the dilemma we all face.
Anselm saw God as the only answer: “There is no one, therefore, who can make satisfaction except God himself.” God is the only one who can solve our problem. And yet the problem is ours. It is our responsibility to make satisfaction for our sins. God may be the only one who can make satisfaction, “But no one ought to make it except man.”
Do you see the problem? We have sinned against an infinitely holy God. But the debt we owe him is so great we could never pay it. Only God can make a payment so big. What is to be done?
God provided the answer. God became man; he took on flesh. But God remained fully God. So when Jesus Christ, the sinless God-man, went to the cross and died, he did so in our place (because he is fully man) and his death paid the infinite debt we owe (because he is fully God).
Do you have a headache yet? This is serious theology! But it’s so important. It explains why God had to take on flesh. It explains the incarnation. We were in a horrible state: we needed salvation. We couldn’t bring salvation ourselves, only God could do that. And he did it! Christ is God our Redeemer. The poet Mary Macdonald put it well:
Child in the manger,
infant of Mary;
Outcast and stranger,
Lord of all!
Child who inherits,
All our transgressions,
All our demerits
On Him fall.
Once the most holy
Child of salvation,
Gently and lowly
Lived below;
Now as our glorious
Mighty Redeemer,
See Him victorious
O’er each foe.
You may already celebrate Christmas very well. My point in bringing all this up is to teach you that the gospel is really at the heart of Christmas. Millions and millions of people today live as if it is always winter and never Christmas. They wake up, scrounge a living, go to bed and wake up only to do it all over again. They’ll do anything to distract themselves from the mundane reality of their daily lives.
These distractions differ from person to person. For some it’s entertainment, for others travel, for others drugs, for others sex, for still others its personal glory. But the distractions are always temporary. The entertainment will never last. The travel will one day stop. Drugs will cripple the body as they do the soul. Sex can never fulfill. Personal glory is fleeting. You see, for people like this it’s always winter and never Christmas.
Christmas means there is hope. Christmas means God cares. Christmas means God can and did do something about the hopeless world in which we live. Christmas means God attacked the hopeless winter into which we were born. And how did God do this? He did it by doing what we couldn’t do for ourselves. He entered this world and lived a perfect life. Jesus never sinned. He never fell. He never failed. He perfectly obeyed his heavenly Father every single day of his life. But that’s not all. Jesus Christ went to the cross. The one man who didn’t deserve death faced death for each and everyone one of us who would repent and believe. He died for those who would turn from their sins and trust in him. Jesus took on flesh so that he could die in our place, taking the wrath of God that we so rightly deserved. Peter put it this way: “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness” (1 Pet 2:24). Jesus didn’t just bring hope; he wrapped it up, placed a bow on top, and delivered it right to our doorstep.
How should you celebrate Christmas? Simple: make much of Christ. Don’t let the tree and the presents and the feast overshadow the King. After all, it’s because of him that for all those in Christ, it’s always Christmas and never winter.