We are well enough into December now that the holiday machine is running at full speed. Amazon trucks are everywhere, parties and programs fill our evenings, and the to-do list is getting to the point of urgency.

And in the middle of all of that, there’s this whisper from the Christmas story that says, “Come back. Turn toward Jesus. This is what you’re actually looking for.”

Every year I’m reminded that Advent has always been countercultural. It asks us to pause during the busiest season of the year. It calls us to pay attention when everything around us tells us to stay busy. It invites us to worship when the world around us wants us to go, go, go!

Advent Conspiracy calls us to Worship Fully. And in a country where we worship almost everything except God, success, money, political power, celebrity, comfort, Advent asks us to return to the one thing that can truly center us in a chaotic season.

Because everything about Christmas begins with worship.
And everything falls apart when worship drifts to the edges.


What We Worship Might Surprise Us

The hard truth is this: we are always worshiping something. Whatever receives our attention, energy, time, money, or emotional investment becomes the thing we revolve around.

Our calendars, bank statements, and screen-time reports don’t lie.

During Advent, plenty of things compete for center stage, traditions, shopping lists, family expectations, nostalgia, stress, even good things like generosity or serving others. None of them are bad. But they make terrible foundations for a meaningful life. They easily buckle under the weight of our expectations.

When we worship fully, when our hearts turn toward Jesus, the rest of life finds its place. When worship drifts, the season gets fuzzy, stressful, and strangely empty.

We become like whatever we worship.

If we worship success, we become anxious.
If we worship political ideology, we become angry and suspicious.
If we worship money, we become exhausted and afraid of losing it.
If we worship approval, we lose ourselves trying to please everyone.

But when we turn toward Jesus, even momentarily, we become grounded again.


The Christmas Story Shows Us What Worship Actually Looks Like

The great thing about the Christmas story is how ordinary the cast of characters is. Yet each one shows us a posture of worship:

The shepherds respond.
They hear God’s invitation and move toward Jesus “with haste.” Their worship is responsiveness.

Mary sings.
Her worship is gratitude, even when life feels uncertain (Luke 1:46–55).

Joseph obeys.
Quietly, faithfully, even though God’s plan complicates everything (Matthew 1:24).

The magi seek.
They press forward despite danger, politics, and distance (Matthew 2:1–12).

Elizabeth welcomes.
She creates space for Mary and blesses her.

Worship is not a style of music.
Worship is not an event.
Worship is not a Sunday-morning hobby.

Worship is the direction your life leans.


Our Culture (and Maybe Us)

Modern American culture has discipled us far more effectively than many churches have. It trains us to worship:

  • consumption
  • busyness
  • efficiency
  • entertainment
  • political outrage
  • personal convenience

During Advent, those forces go into overdrive. The entire economy is built around making sure our hearts chase after something other than Jesus.

And to be honest, it works.

We say Christmas is about Jesus, but He often gets whatever scraps are left after we’ve spent our time, money, emotions, and energy on everything else.

The point of Advent Conspiracy is to wake us up to this reality.
Scripture reminds us in Romans 12:1–2 that worship is offering our whole selves to God, our decisions, our relationships, our schedules, not just our Sunday mornings.

Worship Fully means intentionally pushing back against cultural pressure.

It’s a quiet rebellion.
A holy refusal.
A choosing of presence over frenzy, meaning over noise, depth over distraction.


So How Do We Actually Turn Toward Jesus This Advent?

Worship starts with presence.

It looks like simple, ordinary moments that reorient the heart:

– breathing deeply before you walk into the store
– praying while stuck in traffic
– choosing gratitude when plans fall apart
– reading a few verses before bed
– stepping outside to look at the stars
– showing kindness to someone who tests your patience
– making room for someone who needs to be seen

These small practices are human acts of worship. And God receives every one of them with joy.

But here’s the hard part:
You cannot worship what you do not turn toward.

So the question for this week is simple:

What am I giving my attention, my energy, and my heart to right now?

And is it shaping me into the person I want to become?

Because whatever we turn toward, whatever we give our life to, that becomes our true center.


Advent Gives Us a Chance to Re-Center

Sometimes I think the shepherds had it easier. They didn’t have smartphones, Amazon deliveries, office parties, social media, or holiday guilt trips. But they also didn’t wait.

The moment they heard good news, they ran toward it. They turned.

Maybe we need that same movement, a quiet, steady turning of the heart toward Jesus.

When worship becomes the starting point of our Christmas season, something shifts. The stress doesn’t disappear, but it loses its power to define us. The season feels sacred again like it was always meant to be.


For Anyone Feeling Worn Out

If you’re overwhelmed, exhausted, grieving, anxious, or simply running on fumes, hear this clearly:

God is asking for you, your presence, your attention, your heart.

That’s what worship really is.

During Advent, may we turn our hearts toward the One who turned His heart toward us first. May we worship fully—not because God demands more from us, but because God wants more for us. More peace. More grounding. More joy. More life.

And maybe, just maybe, this year Christmas will feel like good news again.

Closing Prayer

God of light and steady ground,
as we move through this Advent season, turn our hearts back toward You.
Quiet the noise around us and interrupt the rush long enough for us to breathe, to notice, to remember what matters.

Teach us to worship fully—
not just with our songs or our words,
but with our attention, our presence, and our everyday choices.

When we feel pulled in a hundred directions, center us again in Your love.
When anxiety rises, give us peace.
When distractions crowd out joy, open our eyes to the simple ways You are already near.

Like the shepherds, help us respond.
Like Mary, help us trust.
Like Joseph, help us obey.
Like the magi, help us seek.
Like Elizabeth, help us make room.

Receive whatever we offer You this week—our imperfect faith, our small prayers, our quiet moments of gratitude.
Make them worship.
Make them holy.

And as we turn toward Jesus, fill our lives with the good news the angels first announced:
great joy for all people.

Amen.