African Christians, the Birth of Jesus and Christmas Trees

By Prince Charles Dickson, Ph.D

Christmas in Africa is more than a date on the Christian calendar. It’s a season that fills streets with songs, kitchens with aroma, and hearts with an unspoken nostalgia. For many African Christians, Christmas is both a remembrance and a re-enactment of the story of God entering the world through the fragile cry of a child, and the story of families coming home again.

Across Africa, December carries a rhythm. In Nigeria, Ghana, Kenya, Uganda, South Africa, and beyond, you can almost hear it; the sound of distant church rehearsals, the laughter from markets, the scent of new fabric for tailor-made “Christmas clothes.” In villages and cities alike, it’s a time of movement. People travel long distances to reunite with family, attend carol services, and share food that stretches the meaning of communion far beyond the altar.

While Christmas in Europe or North America is often defined by winter imagery: snowflakes, reindeer, hot chocolate and Santa; the African celebration is drenched in sunlight, color, and community. It’s the season when goats are bought for slaughter, rice sacks are stacked in corners, and radio stations play both Silent Night and local hits that blend gospel and drums.

In short, it’s Christmas without snow but full of warmth; a warmth that comes not from firewood but from people.

For African Christians, the nativity story sits close to home. The humility of Christ’s birth in a manger, outside the walls of comfort, mirrors the realities of many African communities where simplicity and scarcity coexist with deep faith. Jesus, born under the stars and visited by shepherds, feels relatable.

When churches dramatize the nativity, the audience doesn’t just watch; they see themselves. The shepherds could be the herdsmen from Jos, the wise men could be travelers from across African borders, and the stable could easily resemble a rural hut. The message isn’t distant theology, it’s incarnation in familiar soil.

This connection also shapes how Africans interpret the meaning of the birth: not as a historical event, but as an ongoing invitation. The birth of Jesus reminds communities that God’s presence is not locked in heaven or history. It walks their dusty roads, eats their food, and shares their humanity.

Reframing Christmas symbols.

In many parts of Africa, the tree is both present and absent. Present in hotels, malls, and some middle-class homes; absent in villages where faith expression leans more toward sound than symbol.

The evergreen tree, central to Western Christmas décor, doesn’t always translate easily in African settings. Historically, it came with missionaries and colonial influence, part of the visual language of Christianity that was imported alongside hymns and Sunday school books. Over time, it became a marker of modern celebration, something “beautiful,” but not necessarily sacred.

In many African homes, the Christmas tree stands beside portraits of family members abroad, adorned with tinsel, balloons, and sometimes even paper cutouts. Children are drawn to it, not for theology but for the promise of gifts hidden underneath.

Yet, in deeper reflection, African Christians often reframe the symbol. Some pastors interpret the tree as a metaphor for life, evergreen faith amid the changing seasons. Others see it as a reminder that creation itself joins in celebrating the Creator. In communities where trees are tied to ancestral stories, the Christmas tree becomes an adopted cousin in the spiritual family, foreign in form, but not without resonance.

Still, for most Africans, the spirit of Christmas is less about decoration and more about connection. It’s found in all-night church services called Cross Over Nights, in processions through dusty roads, in mothers’ laughter as they fry chin-chin and puff-puff for guests. It’s in the new dresses sewn from Ankara and kitenge fabrics, the children’s excitement at “Father Christmas” appearing in local parks, and the collective prayers for peace and prosperity.

Where the Western world may focus on gifts and aesthetics, the African Christmas emphasizes gratitude and gathering. Even families that struggle financially find joy in sharing an echo of the manger scene, where simplicity and generosity met.

In that sense, Africans have re-theologized Christmas without formal declaration. The birth of Jesus is celebrated less as a spectacle and more as a story of divine nearness. The tree may not always stand tall in the living room, but the spirit of Christmas takes root in every act of kindness, every reunion, every shared meal.

It’s important to recognize that Africa doesn’t reject the Christmas tree; it reinterprets it. In a continent where Christianity dances with tradition, symbols are rarely static. The tree can stand beside a carved wooden stool, a calabash, or a woven mat, all bearing witness to faith that adapts but does not lose its essence.

The African believer understands that while Jesus was born in Bethlehem, He is re-born every year in their midst, in markets, churches, and homes. The power of that story doesn’t depend on pine needles or plastic ornaments. It thrives in the music of choirs, the generosity of neighbors, and the prayers whispered over family meals.

Christmas, for Africa, is not imported. It has been indigenized and clothed in local fabrics, sung in local tongues, and celebrated with local food.

As the world decorates its cities with artificial snow and reindeer lights, Africa decorates its faith with joy, song, and resilience. The continent’s Christmas doesn’t imitate; it interprets. And that interpretation, grounded in both faith and culture, may hold the truest essence of the season: God with us, among us, and in us not necessarily in the glitter of trees, but in the glow of hearts.