A gift you cannot keep to yourself

Christmas is for many of us the most wonderful time of the year. The lights in the streets, the smell of pine needles, and that specific atmosphere of camaraderie do something to a person. It is a time when we instinctively reflect more often on what we mean to each other. We give gifts, not because we have to, but because we want to let the people around us know that we appreciate them.

But what I find most beautiful about Christmas is not the presents under the tree. It is the underlying idea of ‘sharing’. When we have found something truly valuable – a good book, a beautiful piece of music, or a way of life that gives us peace – it is almost impossible to keep it to ourselves. That is precisely why I, especially during this period, like to talk about my faith.

The treasure we instinctively want to share

Elder David A. Bednar, a leader in my church whom I greatly appreciate, once explained this principle using a very recognizable example. He stated that when we discover a great restaurant or see a film that deeply moves us, we don't wait for someone to ask us for a recommendation. We spontaneously tell our friends and family. We say, 'You really must see this' or 'You should eat here'.

That is exactly how I experience my membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I don't talk about it because I have to meet a quota or because I think everyone should think exactly like me. I talk about it because I have discovered a 'treasure' that has made my life so much richer. The gospel of Jesus Christ is not an abstract theory for me, but a source of light that I instinctively want to share with others, especially in a world that can sometimes feel quite dark.

In the New Testament, we also see this happen. When Andrew meets Jesus and realizes who He is, he does not run away to keep that knowledge to himself. He seeks out his brother Simon and simply says: 'Come and see' (John 1:40-47). No complicated argument, no coercion, but a sincere, non-binding invitation to become part of something beautiful.

No magical solution for a perfect life

Now I want to add something honest to that. There is sometimes a misunderstanding that religious people have their lives perfectly in order, or that faith is a kind of 'magic shield' against all misery. I can tell you from my own experience: it is not.

Being a member of this church and believing in Christ does not mean that my problems disappear like snow in the sun. I also know moments of deep doubt, stress, and sorrow. I struggle with the daily challenges of life, with professional pressure and with my own shortcomings. Faith is not an 'escape room' from reality.

What is it then? A compass. When I am in the middle of a storm, my faith does not make the wind die down, but it gives me an anchor so that I do not drift away. It gives me a perspective that reaches beyond today. It reminds me that I am not alone and that there is a deeper meaning in the difficulties we go through. The gospel offers no magical solution, but it does offer the strength to persevere and the hope that after the night, there will always be a morning.

A church of people, not of saints

Sometimes people look at the church and see an institution. But when I look at my church, I primarily see a community of people. And let's be honest: we are not a church of perfect people. On the contrary. We are a collection of individuals who all carry their own baggage, make their own mistakes, and fight their own battles.

What binds us is the desire to care for one another. We try to be the 'angels' that Christ sends out to help others. That may sound very pious, but in practice, it is very earthly: it's bringing a meal to a sick neighbor, offering a listening ear to someone who is feeling down, or simply helping to carry each other's burdens without judgment. We are disciples trying to grow, stumbling and all, but always with our gaze fixed on the same light.

Respect for your path

Something that is essential to me in this whole story is respect. I have a deep admiration for the way others organize their lives and what they believe. Whether you are Muslim, Jewish, Catholic, Buddhist, or a convinced atheist: I sincerely believe that every person is searching for truth and goodness in their own way.

My desire to share my faith does not stem from a feeling of superiority. I don't think I know 'it' all and you don't. It stems from connection. Precisely because I have so much respect for your search, I gladly share what helps me in mine. Your convictions do not detract from mine, and hopefully mine do not detract from yours. We can learn from each other and strengthen each other in that common search for more light and hope.

An invitation for this Christmas

At Christmas, we celebrate the birth of Him whom we call the 'Light of the World'. I know that many people are longing for that light right now. Perhaps you feel lonely, perhaps worries about the world make you anxious, or perhaps you are simply looking for more depth and meaning in your daily life.

My message to you is simple: that light is there. That hope is available. And sometimes we find that hope in places where we don't directly expect it.

Therefore, I extend my hand to you. Not to force you into anything, but to let you know that our church doors are open. Not for perfect people, but for everyone who needs a community where we try to follow Christ by loving and building each other up.

If you are curious about how I see things, or if you simply want to talk about the big questions of life without a direct conclusion having to be attached to it, know that you are welcome. My invitation is exactly that of Andrew long ago: come and see. Entirely without obligation, from a sincere heart and with the greatest respect for who you are and where you stand in life.

I wish you a Christmas season full of light, hope, and especially much human warmth.