Having finished the semester, Jeremiah arrives late to Christmas at his in-laws’ suburban home, where someone has scattered explicit pamphlets through the churchyard and stolen mannequins from the town nativity scene. He remarks that the effect of the nativity scene reminds him of marriage, reducing everyone to aesthetic scenery and extras in the solipsistic version of one's life. At the door with bags of presents, he texts his wife, Sherri, that he is there. “Well then come in then,” she texts back tersely. The family is ecstatic to see Jeremiah. Even though he is only an adjunct instructor in media studies, Jeremiah’s in-laws call him “professor” and heighten their vocabulary when he’s around. Sherri’s family is large and religious. They mull around the kitchen, some preparing food, some taking up space. Sherri’s brother-in-law, Travis, wears a T-shirt that reads “Faith & Fitness: My Daily Devotions.” Sherri’s nieces and nephews latch onto Jeremiah’s ankles. He hasn’t spoken to his wife in a week—since she left for her parents’ house and he stayed at home. Their last correspondence was a note from Sherri: “Remember your loans are due on Friday.” As they prepare dinner, the family discusses the missing mannequins in the nativity scene and this year’s “war on Christmas”. They suggest that these incidents are acts of terror. The family doesn’t drink alcohol, so Jeremiah has stashed a couple of bottles of Jameson from the airport in his coat pocket. He hopes this will get him through the Christmas prayer he has to deliver over dinner. Previously, Sherri had told him that all he had to do was recite the Lord’s Prayer. But Jeremiah had felt a spark. He read widely—Pascal, Augustine, Kierkegaard, and Tillich—just to prepare his speech. While setting the table, Jeremiah explains a new app called “Immortweetily” to Sherri’s grandfather. This app analyzes your online presence and, when you die, it continues to tweet and post just as you might. Jeremiah wonders what people will think of his digital approximation when he dies. Before dinner, Jeremiah’s mother calls. She is watching television alone, separated from her husband with her only son for the holidays. Their conversation is short, and Jeremiah returns to the table for his speech. His prayer is long and clumsy. It centers on Romans Chapter 13, verse eight, “Owe no one anything, except to love one another.” Tying in Kirkegaard, he lays out his exegesis. That love is an infinite debt, eternally renewing. After dinner, he and Sherri play with their nieces and nephews. They put them to bed and head back to their room. They have sex for the first time in a long time. Afterward, Sherri criticizes his prayer. She knows he’s an atheist and says his prayer was just an act. At midnight, the family head to church for Midnight Mass. Jeremiah stops at a display of Christmas trees in town. They have been planted, each one by a grieving family, to remember the lost loved one. This sets Jeremiah into a psychosis. He stumbles back to his in-law’s home and finds himself in Sherri’s childhood bedroom. He digs through her belongings and finds an old voicemail recording of Sherri calling her own phone to record what her voice sounds like after having sex for the first time. She sounds so young. So much is possible. Her life is there before her. He stands in the window as Sherri’s family walks back from the church into the yard, and he waits for Sherri to see him in the window.