Christmas in Sabah: Faith, fellowship and meaning of sharing

Christmas is one of the few seasons that comfortably carries more than one meaning at the same time. Ask what Christmas is about and the answers will vary. For Christians, it is the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ, a foundational event of faith. For others, it is a cultural season associated with goodwill, generosity, family gatherings and shared celebration. In Sabah, where a sizeable Christian population forms part of a diverse and plural society, these two understandings of Christmas intertwine naturally through lived experience and broad social harmony.

From the Christian perspective, Christmas commemorates the incarnation, the belief that God entered human history in human form. The Nativity story is neither about power nor grandeur but about humility and vulnerability. A child is born in a stable, welcomed by shepherds rather than royalty. For believers, this narrative carries deep theological meaning. It speaks of a God who chooses closeness over distance, love over force, and compassion over dominance. Christmas therefore affirms the dignity of every human life and calls believers to respond with love, humility and service.

This religious meaning is shaped and deepened by the season of Advent, which precedes Christmas. Advent is a time of waiting, reflection and preparation. It invites believers to slow down, to examine their lives and to refocus on values such as hope, patience and reconciliation. In this sense, Christmas is not merely a single festive day but the culmination of a reflective journey that gives the celebration its spiritual weight.

Alongside this religious meaning, Christmas has developed a strong secular expression. In its secular form, Christmas is widely understood as a season of giving, kindness and togetherness. Gifts are exchanged as expressions of care, families make time to gather, and communities organise events that emphasise goodwill and joy. Even those who hold different religious beliefs often participate in these practices because the values they express are universally resonant. Compassion, generosity and connection transcend all faith traditions.

It is true that commercialisation has shaped modern Christmas, sometimes excessively so. Yet it would be simplistic to dismiss the secular celebration of Christmas as empty or meaningless. The fact that generosity and goodwill have become central expectations of the season suggests that the ethical values associated with Christmas have travelled far beyond their religious origins and taken root in shared culture. In many cases, the secular celebration becomes a practical expression of values that Christianity articulates in theological terms.

In Sabah, the religious and secular dimensions of Christmas are rarely separated into distinct spaces. The state’s Christian communities observe Christmas with devotion through church services, carol nights, Nativity plays and Christmas Eve worship. These observances remain central and meaningful, forming the spiritual core of the season for believers. Churches across the state are filled during December, and the rhythms of worship mark the importance of the feast.

At the same time, Christmas is visibly present in public life. Towns, cities, shopping malls and offices are decorated, festive music fills public spaces, and community events are organised to mark the season. Christmas in Sabah is publicly visible and shared beyond private spaces. It is celebrated openly and confidently, often with the participation of people from different religious and cultural backgrounds. This openness reflects a social confidence that faith remains authentic through its presence in public life.

A key feature of Christmas in Sabah is the role played by the Sabah Council of Churches in organising public celebrations. These events are clearly rooted in Christian faith, yet they are designed in a way that welcomes the wider community. Public carol singing, cultural performances, prayers and communal gatherings are often held with the involvement of civic authorities and attended by leaders from various sectors. Such participation sends a strong signal that religious celebrations can contribute positively to social cohesion.

When the state supports or recognises Christmas celebrations organised by church bodies, it affirms the legitimacy of religious observance in the public sphere. Christmas is acknowledged not only as an important religious feast for Christians but also as a communal season that fosters harmony and goodwill. This approach avoids two extremes. One is maintaining Christmas as a purely religious event. The other is stripping it of its meaning to make it culturally neutral. Instead, it recognises that faith based celebrations can enrich public life when handled with respect and openness.

What gives Christmas in Sabah its distinctive character is the emphasis on hospitality and sharing. Whether at church events, community gatherings or state celebrations, there is a strong assumption that Christmas is meant to be shared. Open houses, communal meals and inclusive programmes are common. This pattern reflects a broader Sabahan cultural instinct in which celebrations are rarely exclusive and generosity is valued over formality or display.

For me, this integration of religious meaning and social practice has been part of my life from an early age, most clearly through the way my family celebrates Christmas. Our family Christmas tradition dates back to 1976, when my late father began what has since become an annual Christmas Open House Dinner. What began as a simple act of hospitality has endured for nearly five decades and has become central to the way we understand Christmas.

Growing up, I learned that Christmas in our home was never meant to be private. Preparations would begin days before Christmas Day. There was food to prepare, the house to arrange, and a general readiness to receive our guests. There was no fixed guest list and no expectation of formal invitations. Friends, relatives, neighbours and acquaintances were all welcome. The door was open, and that openness was taken for granted.

This practice arose from genuine intent rather than social obligation or a desire for recognition. It reflected my father’s understanding of Christmas as something to be lived rather than merely observed. For him, Christmas was not only about attending mass or marking a religious milestone. It was about extending generosity, sharing what we had and making others feel welcome. The open house was a practical expression of those beliefs.

The religious meaning of Christmas gave depth to this family tradition. The birth of Christ was understood as a gift freely given, and hospitality became a way of responding to that gift. Opening our home each Christmas was framed as gratitude expressed through welcome rather than charity. Faith was neither explained nor imposed; it was lived quietly through action.

At the same time, the open house allowed the secular meaning of Christmas to flourish naturally. Guests came from different backgrounds and beliefs, and no one was made to feel out of place. Conversation, laughter and shared food created a sense of belonging independent of shared faith. In that space, Christmas became a shared human experience rooted in warmth and connection.

Over the years, this tradition has also created continuity across generations. People who attended as children now return as adults, sometimes with families of their own. Familiar faces reappear, stories are revisited, and relationships are renewed. In a rapidly changing world, the annual open house provides a sense of stability and rootedness. It reminds us that traditions endure not because they are elaborate but because they are meaningful.

Looking back, I see the way my father’s decision in 1976 shaped our understanding of Christmas and community. It taught us that faith extends beyond places of worship and that generosity can arise without abundance. It also showed that the religious and secular aspects of Christmas can coexist harmoniously. When lived authentically, they reinforce each other.

My family experience mirrors what happens at the wider community level in Sabah. Just as our home opens to others, public Christmas celebrations open the season to the broader society. The participation of non-Christians in Christmas events leaves the Christian meaning of the season intact. Instead, it reflects a confidence in that meaning and a willingness to share its fruits.

Addressing religious and secular Christmas in the same narrative therefore requires clarity rather than compromise. It means being clear that, for Christians, Christmas is about Christ, while also recognising that the values flowing from that belief, generosity, peace, hospitality and goodwill, can be shared by all. In Sabah, this clarity has allowed Christmas to be celebrated publicly without losing its religious core, and privately without becoming inward looking.

Christmas, as I have come to understand it, is both a story and a way of life. It is the story of a child born in humility, remembered in worship and reflection. It is also the practice of giving, welcoming and sharing, lived out in public celebrations and family homes. In Sabah, and in my own family, these two dimensions are inseparable. The story gives meaning to the practice, and the practice gives life to the story.

In the end, Christmas is both enriched and strengthened through sharing. Whether celebrated in church, at a state supported gathering or around a family table that has been open every year since 1976, Christmas finds its fullest expression when people open their hearts and doors to one another. It is in these ordinary but sincere acts that Christmas reveals its enduring relevance, not only as a religious feast or a cultural festival but as a shared human moment that continues to unite people across differences.

Footnote

Dr Richard A. Gontusan is a Human Resource Skills Training and Investment Consultant. He professes the Roman Catholic faith and resides in Penampang. His views expressed in this article are not necessarily the views of The Borneo Post.