Where Are Your Christmas T&P Valves?

A Few Timely Reminders About our Calling and God’s Grace

I’m sure we can all agree that the greatest scene in the history of Christmas-themed cinema is in Christmas Vacation when Clark Griswold has an unmitigated meltdown in front of his extended family after everything that could go wrong with a holiday gathering does go wrong. “Worse?! How could things get any worse?! Take a look around you, Ellen. We’re at the threshold of hell!”

I have some pastor friends who on an annual basis reach this same tipping point (though sadly I’m yet to hear that particular line of dialogue quoted in a Christmas Eve sermon.)

Clark needed a way to release the pressure before he exploded. It was a lot: Financial pressure. Job Performance pressure. Marriage and family pressure. Holiday expectations pressure. Time pressure.

Sound familiar?

Any system with pressure requires a mechanism of release or something will rupture. The release is not a weakness in the system; it is evidence that the system is working as it should. Water heaters, pressure cookers, the very respiratory systems that help keep us alive, all release pressure when working correctly.

Congregations, especially this time of year, likewise need a mechanism of release. Emotions run almost as high as the expectations. Everyone’s frenetic pace and anxieties are throttled up. The crushing demands on pastors, volunteers, and church boards to hold everything together can become overwhelming. This often happens before we even notice, and in many cases it’s because we’re putting more pressure on ourselves than anyone else is.

Where in your ministry system do you need a T&P valve, and when will you use it? After all, as a pastor in one of our TMC cohorts said last week, “This is supposed to be fun, right?!”

Here are some reminders to help relieve the pressure:

We are not spiritual shopkeepers, stocking shelves with seasonal religious goods and hits of dopamine; we are witnesses to God’s continuous arrival, trusting the promise, “My presence will go with you, and I will give you rest” (Exodus 33:14).

We are not cruise ship directors, keeping everyone entertained, energized, and on schedule; we are listeners who make room for grief and hope, remembering Jesus’ invitation, “Come to me… and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28–29).

We are not stage producers, orchestrating seamless performances; we are keepers of the story, telling it plainly and trusting that “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5).

We are not holiday event planners, exhibiting Christmas like a gala; we are guides pointing toward eternal light, echoing Isaiah’s hope that “the people who walked in darkness have seen a great light” (Isaiah 9:2).

We are not Santa Claus proxies, delivering joy on demand; we are signposts to a deeper joy, a “joy inexpressible and full of glory” (1 Pet 1:8).

We are not marketing strategists, promoting Christmas as if its power depends on our cleverness;  we are proclaimers of the gospel, shaped by the mystery, “the Word became flesh and lived among us” (John 1:14).

We are not customer service representatives, absorbing every preference and complaint; we are a people of patience, unhurried and unafraid, not confusing exhaustion with faithfulness, trusting that “those who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength” (Isaiah 40:31).

We are not religious entrepreneurs, striving for bigger outcomes than last year and obsessed with holiday programming ROI; we are those who join and inhabit the story of Emmanuel, “God with us” (Matthew 1:23).

Releasing ourselves from these false pastoral identities allows us to see more clearly ways to discharge some Ministry T&P valves. It might mean canceling a nonessential meeting instead of forcing one more obligation onto an already crowded week. It might mean letting a worship service or some other event be good enough rather than perfect, or allowing it to be different from how it was done in the past. It might mean saying no to one more add-on idea (even a good one), simplifying a liturgy, shortening a sermon (or sermon preparation), or trusting silence when there is a temptation to fill it. Sometimes it looks like going home on time, taking a real day off, or committing to time with that friend or family member who is good for your soul.

Yes, releasing pressure may disappoint those who have built up expectations about what the Christmas season should feel like in the life of a congregation, and what that supposedly requires of you. But what feels like letting people down in the moment is often the holy sound of pressure being released exactly as it should be, and before something ruptures. It models a grace-filled and sustainable faith that nourishes the soul long after the season ends.

Ministry T&P releases are not signs of neglect; they are acts of wisdom that prevent rupture. And they provide a vital avenue for encountering the grace of God at Christmas, the grace of not having to manage the miracle but simply trust it and experience the joy it offers.

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Prompts for Discussion:

1. Is there anything in your ministry system that has you at risk of a Clark Griswold-level meltdown?
2. Which of the “we are not / we are” pairings most resonates with you this year, and why?
3. What would it look like for your congregation to experience Christmas as a “release of pressure” rather than a performance?
4. Where in your ministry might you need to attach a T&P valve and discharge it already?