Silent Nights and Loud Questions: Navigating Christmas While Deconstructing Faith
I used to love Christmas.
The lights.
The music.
The candles in church.
The moment when everyone sang “Silent Night” with tears in their eyes
It felt peaceful.
Then … something shifted.
I started to ask some questions I hadn’t dared to ask before. I wasn’t asking because I was angry … I wasn’t asking because I wanted to walk away … I was asking the questions because I couldn’t lie to myself anymore.
Once I started, I couldn’t unsee what I saw.
Suddenly, the season felt heavy. I’d sit through Christmas services and feel nothing. The sermons said “joy” and “peace,” but they left out grief, doubt, and pain. Nobody was talking about people like me … people in the middle of the mess.
People who are deconstructing
Reconstructing
Trying to breathe.
If that’s you, you are not alone!
For a lot of us, the holidays aren’t easy.
It’s not because we hate Christmas.
It’s because we see it all differently now.
Maybe you are trying to untangle Jesus from the trauma the church caused.
Maybe your identity is a fight at the family table.
Maybe your church sings of peace and praises cruelty in the same breath.
Maybe you’re holding boundaries for the first time, and it’s awkward and painful.
Even the old songs and prayers can feel strange.
What used to bring comfort can now bring grief.
We ask the questions … “Is it just me?”
“Have I gone too far to find meaning in this again?”
Maybe … just maybe the problem isn’t you and me.
Maybe the version of faith you were given didn’t make space for your pain.
Maybe that’s why you’re building something new.
The truth? The Christmas story was never clean.
Jesus was born under oppression. In poverty. In chaos. He came for the people who didn’t belong.
John 1:10 says, “He came into the very world he created, but the world didn’t recognize him.”
Christmas was never about perfection.
It was never about presence.
It was about God showing up in the middle of the mess.
So, here’s what we’ve done: We’ve made Christmas about the cross.
We say the most important thing Jesus did was die.
But what if …
The most important thing He did was how he lived?
How He touched people no one else would.
How He saw the hurting.
How He sat with the rejected.
How He showed empathy, over and over.
We also miss the mark on the prize.
We’ve been told heaven is about gold streets and mansions.
Something we get if we follow the rules.
What if the prize isn’t what we get …
It’s what we give?
The love we share.
The healing we bring
The empathy we live out when we stop trying to fix others … and start trying to understand them.
Empathy isn’t pity. It’s not “feeling bad.”
It’s showing up and saying,
“I may not know your story, but I want to. I may not feel what you feel, but I’ll sit with you anyway.”
Empathy means I’ll walk a mile in your shoes to try to understand what it’s like to be you.
Real empathy sounds like this:
- Listening to your gay friends talk about growing up in church without trying to defend it.
- Calling out a racist comment, even if it comes from someone you love.
- Using your vote to protect people who don’t have the same power.
- Choosing to learn what it means to be trans instead of making a joke about it.
- Giving up comfort to make space for someone else’s safety.
That’s empathy.
Yeah … it’s hard. Especially at Christmas. Especially with family. Especially when old traditions feel like they don’t fit anymore.
So how do you move through this season when you’re not sure where you belong?
Try this:
- Say what hurts. Don’t bottle it up. Write it out. Speak it. Give your pain a name.
- Make new rituals. Light your own candle. Make space for what feels sacred now.
- Set boundaries. You don’t owe anyone an explanation. You deserve peace.
- Find your people. Look for those who see you. Even one friend can make all the difference
- Know this: You are not alone!
Here’s a powerful article from OFM: LGBTQ Christianity: The New Frontline of the Queer Conflict that might give language to what you’re carrying. And this article from Beyond Evangelical, “When Christmas Hurts,” speaks directly to grief and faith during the holidays.
Luke Justin Roberts @lukejustinroberts on Instagram is a musician who has been writing about deconstructing he can be found on Spotify as LJR. Check him out! I’ve enjoyed listening to the You Can Be Both Podcast by Lauren Lanzaretta, which can be found on most popular Podcast platforms.
I still believe in Christmas. Not the perfect one, not the polished one … but the honest one.
I don’t sing all the songs.
I find it hard to be present in a church right now.
I do believe in the kind of love that still shows up, even in broken places
If you feel like you don’t belong anywhere right now, here me:
You belong here.
Not because you’ve figured it all out.
But because Jesus came for people exactly like you and me.
That’s the Christmas I believe in.
That’s the one worth holding on to.
Let’s chase that kind of Christmas together … the one that makes room for all of us.



