Here at Christmas, I’ve been thinking about how easily we can convince ourselves that “church” only really happens if everything is just right—haze machines humming, plush seating, moving lights, darkened rooms, and perfectly layered multitracks. And while none of those things are bad (sincerely), the Christmas story gently reminds us that the very first witnesses of Christ’s arrival experienced something far different. The shepherds stood in awe without padded seats or production value. They were in awe without sound systems or instruments. They were in awe in a lowly, ordinary place because they had journeyed into the presence of the Son of God. “Let us go now to Bethlehem and see this thing that has come to pass,” they said (Luke 2:15), and when they arrived, heaven met them right there in simplicity.
I think about this often because I grew up a pastor’s kid in a setting where we didn’t have much—personally or corporately. Our local church was simple. Our resources were limited. But when we gathered, whether as a family or as a congregation, worship had a way of reaching deep into our hearts and challenging our spirits. There was no illusion that the moment depended on excellence alone. The power came from presence. As the carol reminds us, “O come, let us adore Him, Christ the Lord.” Adoration doesn’t require spectacle—it requires surrender.
Now, let me be clear: I genuinely love excellence. I really love a big, well-prepared choir offering a beautiful and moving presentation. I’m grateful for technology that helps us share the Gospel more clearly and more broadly. These things can be wonderful tools. But we have to be careful not to lean on them as proof that we’ve “been to church.” The Christmas story points us back to a young woman who simply said yes to God: “Behold the handmaid of the Lord; be it unto me according to thy word” (Luke 1:38). Long before there was a choir or a candlelit service, there was obedience, humility, and faith.
So this Christmas, it’s okay to celebrate the freedom of simplicity. It’s okay if everything isn’t over the top. It’s okay if the room is bright, the music is unplugged, or the moment feels quiet. Christmas for Christians is both a celebration of the First Advent and a hopeful longing for the Second. “Joy to the world, the Lord is come; let earth receive her King”—and just as surely, He will come again. May we, like the shepherds, be found in awe not because of how impressive the setting is, but because we have truly encountered Jesus.
This Christmas, amidst the lights, sounds, and all those festive things we all most certainly enjoy, my prayer is that we are also finding Christmas in the quiet.
Luke Gambill 
Thank you for sharing this very thoughtful devotional. I’m always blessed when I’m reminded of how much your family impacted me when I came back to the church I grew up in and 1980 at the age of 21. About a month after I was saved your dad preached a message from Amos chapter 4 title prepare to meet your God. That Sunday morning he said The Lord had woke him up three times that week at 3:00 a.m. to give him that message. That night after having a dream of how I was to serve the Lord I woke up with a strong presence of God in the room and when I glanced at the clock it was 3:00 a.m. which I now understand to be my time of visitation.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and your family. 🎄
I’m so happy it was an encouragement to you. My dad certainly had a way with people and I’m amazed more and more of it the older I get.
Your comment name doesn’t seem to show who you are. Sorry, mind me asking who you are?