Leave Those Lights Alone!

Every year, the same quiet confusion sets in.

Some people pack away their decorations on December 26. Others insist they stay up until Epiphany. Still others argue for the Baptism of the Lord—or even Candlemas in February. The result is a familiar question, asked half-jokingly and half-seriously:

When does Christmas actually end?

The short answer is that Christmas doesn’t end all at once.
The longer—and more truthful—answer is that the Church allows Christmas to unfold slowly, because the mystery it celebrates cannot be contained in a single moment.

December 25: The Beginning, Not the End

For the modern world, Christmas ends on December 25.

Once the gifts are opened and the day is over, the season is treated as finished. The lights dim. The music stops. Normal life resumes.

But liturgically, December 25 is not the conclusion of Christmas—it is the beginning. The Church does not rush past the Nativity because the Incarnation is not a footnote in salvation history. It is the turning point of time itself.

From the Church’s perspective, stopping Christmas on December 25 would be like leaving a story the moment the main character enters the room.

January 6: Epiphany and Revelation

Traditionally, Epiphany marked the great climax of the Christmas mystery.

Epiphany celebrates Christ being revealed to the nations through the visit of the Magi. In the early Church, this feast often carried more theological weight than December 25 itself. It proclaimed that the Child born in Bethlehem was not merely a local king, but the Savior of the world.

In many cultures, Christmas decorations remained until Epiphany, and the season ended not with sentiment, but with revelation.

Here, Christmas shifts from birth to manifestation.
Christ is no longer hidden—He is made known.

The Baptism of the Lord: The Liturgical End

In the Roman Rite today, the Christmas season officially ends with the Feast of the Baptism of the Lord.

This makes profound sense.

At His Baptism, Christ steps out of hidden life and into public mission. The Father speaks. The Spirit descends. The Son is revealed not only as born, but as sent.

Christmas ends here not because the Church is done reflecting on the Incarnation, but because the story moves forward. Christ’s identity has been revealed, and now His work begins.

If Christmas tells us who Christ is, the Baptism begins to show us why He has come.

February 2: Candlemas, the Lingering Echo

And yet—there is one more date that refuses to be ignored.

Candlemas, the Feast of the Presentation of the Lord, falls forty days after Christmas. Rooted in Jewish law, it commemorates Christ being brought into the Temple and offered to the Father.

Historically, many monastic communities treated Candlemas as the final echo of Christmas. Decorations remained. Candles were blessed. The Incarnation was not considered complete until the Child was formally presented and received.

Theologically, Candlemas completes the arc:

  • Christ is born

  • Christ is revealed

  • Christ is offered

Christmas does not simply end—it is given back to God.

Why the Church Allows This

The Church is not confused about when Christmas ends.
She is intentional.

Each “ending” emphasizes a different dimension of the same mystery:

  • December 25 — God enters time

  • Epiphany — God is revealed to the world

  • Baptism of the Lord — God begins His mission

  • Candlemas — God is offered to the Father

Rather than collapsing these into a single moment, the Church lets the mystery breathe. She teaches us to linger, to reflect, to allow eternity to unfold within time.

The world rushes past Christmas because it treats it as an event.
The Church lingers because she knows it is a reality.

A Slower Way Through Time

There are many “ends” to Christmas because the Incarnation cannot be exhausted by one day on a calendar.

God has entered history.
Time itself has been altered.

And so the Church, in her wisdom, refuses to hurry us along.

Christmas ends slowly—not because the Church is unsure, but because she understands that when eternity enters time, it deserves more than a moment.

Stephen Codekas

Stephen A. Codekas is a Catholic writer, playwright, and former seminarian whose works explore the beauty of faith, the drama of the Gospel, and the pursuit of purity in a secular world. With a dual degree in Theology and Philosophy and formation at Mount St. Mary’s Seminary of the West, Stephen brings a depth of spiritual insight and academic rigor to his writing. He is the author of In the Shadow of the Cross: A Parish Passion Play, a moving dramatic retelling of Christ’s Passion, and Blessed Are the Pure, a devotional journey through the month of June spotlighting saints who championed chastity. His work combines timeless truths with creative storytelling to inspire hearts and renew minds. Stephen resides in California and shares his writing, projects, and merchandise at www.CodekasWrites.com.

https://www.CodekasWrites.com
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The Witness of Things