December has arrived, bringing promises of warmer weather, summer fruits and of course the countdown to Christmas.
Many have nostalgic memories of Christmases that were less commercialised, less hectic and more meaningful. For some, the wars still unresolved in Gaza, Sudan and Ukraine temper their celebrations as they feel the disconnect between the holiday’s message of peace and the reality of a troubled world.
And in despair I bowed my head;
‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said,
‘For hate is strong, and mocks the song
Of peace on earth, good-will to men.’”
From Christmas Bells by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
For practising Christians, Christmas retains its religious significance—the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ. Australia’s Christian communities, both long-established and migrant-based (e.g., Filipino, Samoan, Greek, and African churches), often have rich Christmas traditions that contribute to the nation’s cultural mix.
But the religious context of Christmas has been abandoned by many, as have some of the inherited traditions of a northern white Christmas. The church nativity play is now a rarity, the advent calendar a curiosity and thankfully some of the traditional Christmas fare has been replaced by lighter, more climate-appropriate food.
Australia recognises and celebrates many festivals now — Lunar New Year, Diwali, Eid, Hanukkah, NAIDOC Week, and more. Christmas now sits alongside these rather than above them.
Most people in Australia get time off for Christmas, regardless of their beliefs. For some, it’s religious, for others it’s cultural, and for many it’s simply a summer break. It has become a shared public holiday without being a shared belief system.
Traditions shift, families disperse, and the holiday can feel less magical than it once did. But whether it’s worth holding on to depends on what you’re holding on to. The essence — connection, generosity, rest, reflection, still matter to many people. The form just doesn’t always match the meaning anymore.
Christmas is more commercialised, more hectic, sometimes more performative than meaningful. And Christmas is a mega retail event that has become synonymous with big sales, gift-buying, and consumerism. Retailers market Christmas as the ‘season of giving,’ but in reality, it’s about getting people to spend more money than they might otherwise.
From early November onward, brands bombard consumers with Christmas-themed ads, framing the holiday as the time for shopping, eating out, or upgrading their homes. Christmas is marketed as a time of excess— in terms of food, gifts, decorations, and experiences.
The tradition of giving gifts has been commercialised to such an extent that it’s now seen as an obligatory, sometimes stressful, part of the holiday. This has shifted focus away from meaningful, personal gifts toward ‘stuff’ that’s marketed as a necessity.
Christina Rossetti’s well-known poem A Christmas Carol has a critical undertone about the commercial and materialistic aspects of Christmas, despite its festive tone. In the poem, Rossetti emphasises the deeper spiritual meaning of Christmas, urging people to look beyond the material aspects of the season.
What can I give him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give him:
Give my heart.
Even Christmas trees, lights, and ornaments are big business. Every year, new trends in decor emerge, and companies profit from encouraging people to decorate bigger and better.
The children gather round her, bright-eyed, laughing, full of glee;
She has made a shining wonder of a wretched little tree.
For the mother’s heart is striving, though her purse is light and bare,
Henry Lawson The Christmas Tree
It seems that over the last few weeks, streaming services have dumped a truckload of Christmas-themed films to get us in the mood to spend Christmas in many different ways. This is a perfect example of how entertainment intersects with consumerism. There’s a whole industry around Christmas-themed movies, music, and events. From Christmas albums to blockbuster holiday films, Christmas has become a brand in itself. People are marketed the ‘experience’ of Christmas — the magical feeling you’re supposed to have when you’re surrounded by festive music, food, and lights.
Many Christmas films focus on a very specific, idealised version of the holiday — family togetherness, magical moments and the quest for happiness, love, or redemption. This often includes material elements like gift-giving, decorating, and the purchase of Christmas-related goods. These films, while often heart-warming, are also a vehicle for promoting consumer behaviours — by reinforcing the idea that Christmas is about buying presents, going on shopping sprees, and indulging in festive consumer culture.
Some Christmas films are built around a very specific emotional hook — nostalgia. For example, films like Home Alone, It’s a Wonderful Life, or A Christmas Carol tap into cultural memories of Christmases past. They often idealise family, togetherness and giving, which makes us more likely to buy into the larger Christmas experience.
In a way, Christmas movies don’t just reflect consumerism; they help build it. They frame the ideal Christmas in a way that aligns perfectly with the consumer-driven activities of the season: buying presents, decorating, indulging in festive food, and keeping up with all the trends of the holiday season.
Similarly, supermarkets fill our screens with images of tables groaning under the weight of sumptuous meals of glazed hams, prawns, lobsters, pavlovas and other festive treats. Ironically, at a time when many families are relying on food banks.
On the other hand, Christmas movies can provide joy, nostalgia, and meaningful experiences for people. They help create a sense of tradition, provide comfort, and they often promote messages of kindness, generosity, and family.
However, they’re also embedded in a culture that promotes materialism. By placing so much emphasis on the perfect holiday, and by centring so many of these films around the act of gift-giving, these movies arguably reinforce the idea that Christmas is a time of consumption. Perhaps, this is a bit ethically problematic if we consider the environmental, financial, and social implications of an over-commercialised holiday season.
You could argue that not all Christmas movies are overly materialistic — some, like The Grinch Who Stole Christmas or A Charlie Brown Christmas, focus on themes of love, generosity, and the true meaning of Christmas, which are counter to the consumerist culture.
And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice-cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling: ‘How could it be so?’
It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
It came without packages, boxes or bags!”
Gift-giving in itself isn’t inherently ethically wrong, but the consumerism and waste associated with it raise concerns.
Sometimes Christmas becomes painful — due to loss, loneliness, stress, financial pressure, or memories that don’t feel good anymore. If the holiday feels heavy instead of comforting, it’s natural to question its value. In that case, it might not be about letting go of Christmas entirely, but instead letting go of your expectations around it..
Christmas is still widely celebrated but it doesn’t define Australian identity the way it once did. Multiculturalism has diluted its centrality and pushed it toward being one tradition among many.
Interestingly, some Christian themes persist even among people who aren’t religious: These are generosity, compassion, helping the vulnerable, forgiveness, peace and reconciliation. Though these are universal human values, they come from the Christian tradition, suggesting that the true meaning of the holiday comes from love, kindness, and community — not presents, decorations, or even food.
And this is worth holding on to.
