The first observation of Christmas in recorded history took place in Rome in the year 336 CE. Constantine the Great was the emperor at the time, who, it will be recalled by those who have read the Davinci Code by Dan Brown or seen the film adaption, was the first emperor to convert to Christianity. For most of his life he worshipped pagan gods and although he remained a catuchemen at the time of the first Christmas, he would be dead and baptized, but not in that order, before the holiday would be celebrated the following year. It’s generally agreed that he had converted to Christianity a quarter of a century earlier and only waited to get baptized on his deathbed because he believed he would be in less danger of tarnishing the worth of his soul and failing to enter into final communion with the man upstairs. Basically, the guy lived his best life and got a clean slate for himself at the end so as to claim a perfect track record in heaven. If the tendency of the human animal to gravitate towards sin is kept in mind, I think many of us would deem this a wise move, regardless of our own religious or irreligious leanings.
Christmas, however, was by no means the only holiday celebrated in Rome in December of 336. In fact, the dating of Christmas to December 25th has been a matter of contention throughout the centuries, but many historians are of the opinion that it was set on that day to coincide with the festival of the imperial cult, Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, in order to facilitate the transition from paganism to Christianity. A more well-known yet ancient festival by the name of Saturnalia continued to be celebrated around this time period as well. As the name suggests, it was held in honor of the god Saturn, a deity with agricultural connotations who was said to have ruled over the world in the Golden Age of Greece. The practices of this festival were supposed to reflect the conditions of that age, long bygone even at the time of earliest Rome, when it was supposed that mankind lived in a paradisiacal state and enjoyed the spontaneous bounty of the earth. The traditions of Saturnalia, derived from older, agricultural rituals related to the winter solstice, would come to influence Christmas traditions as they are recognized today, and are worth examining in greater detail.
Topsy-turvy is by far the most common term used online to describe the festivities of Saturnalia, and for good reason. Taboos were lifted, roles were reversed, and throughout it’s six days (usually from the seventeenth to the twenty third of December) public and private life in the Roman empire was conducted in an almost opposite fashion from the rest of the year. Slaves were treated to sumptuous feasts and some sources claim that their masters provided table service for them. They were also free to tell their masters how they felt about them in no uncertain terms, as Saturnalia was recognized as a time of free speech throughout the empire. Gambling, usually frowned upon, was widely engaged in. An atmosphere of excess permeated the whole of Roman society; for the majority of the populace, Saturnalia was a time of celebratory drunkenness and the buffoonery that can be expected in its wake.
Sacrifices, sometimes of dead gladiators, were carried out in the temple of Saturn and as a public testament to the liberatory nature of the holiday, The feet of that god’s statue, usually wrapped in wool, were unbound. Schools were closed, work was refrained from, and war could not be declared. In many households,a Saturnalicius princeps, or ruler of Saturnalia, was declared. Serving as the master of ceremonies for the holiday’s madness, their main responsibilities included issuing whimsical demands that the others had to follow, insulting guests, and chasing ladyfolk around the house. Essentially, they were to be living embodiments of the chaos which reigned throughout Roman lands over the course of Saturnalia. The election of these individuals came down to fate: a coin was hidden inside of a cake and whomever found themselves in possession of the lucky piece became the lord of misrule for that year. This tradition lives on in the custom of tiny figurines hidden in King Cakes during Mardi Gras. The roman populace also engaged in gift giving; cheap goods and trinkets were commonly chosen, as giving something of value would indicate one’s social status, and would thus be contrary to the all-inclusive quality of the holiday spirit. Gag gifts were extremely popular, as was the practice of reciting verses that accompanied the giving of gifts, akin to the modern day observance of sending Christmas cards.
Yule, celebrated throughout history by germanic peoples, is another holiday which influenced modern Christmas traditions, such as the burning of yule logs and the eating of Christmas hams, and thus warrants an exploration of it’s own. Even considering the sacrifices that Saturn demanded over the course of his holiday, Yule is by far the more sinister of the two. While it’s true that the drinking of ale was important to its celebrants, so was the slaughtering of horses and cattle, the blood of which was sprinkled across all of the men in attendance of the ceremony. Draugrs-a form of undead creature-were said to be more active during this period as well, adding to the sordid connotations of the holiday. The celebration of Yule has also been associated throughout history with the Wild Hunt, a group of supernatural hunters, led by Odin, who pursue their prey across the sky. Any self respecting fan of Country music will recognize this imagery as the inspiration for the classic “Ghost Riders in the Sky,” but this could just as easily pass for the origin of the flight of Santa Clause, led by his eight innocuous reindeer. However, while the appearance of Santa’s magical sleigh in its flight across the sky typically arouses cheer among children across the globe, spying Odin and The Wild Hunt was taken to be an omen of a great impending catastrophe, or at the very least the death of whomever was a witness to the party in their heavenly course.
If one does even the slightest amount of digging, it becomes quite evident that Odin was a possible historical predecessor of the Santa Clause figure, in addition to Saint Nicholas of Myra, patron saint of sailors, children, and whores. During the Wild Hunt, Odin was said to ride a great eight-hoofed steed named Sleipner and many children would leave their boots out near the fireplace filled with carrots and hay for the beast. Odin was then believed to descend into the homes of the populace via the chimney, and upon collecting the provisions, would refill the children’s boots with gifts and make his ascent back up the flue to the roof, where Sleipner waited for him. Saint Nicholas, like the Christmas holiday itself, is nothing but an amalgamation of the beliefs and customs of the past, regardless if they are recognized as such by the vast majority of holiday revellers in contemporary times.
I have chosen to focus on the two midwinter celebrations whose traditions have most influenced Christmas as it is celebrated today, but there are a number of other holidays taking place all over the globe around this time which, while sharing similarities, mean completely different things according to the cultures in which they are embedded. Take, for example Thai Pongal and Lohri, which are celebrated in the Tamil communities of Southern India, and people of all faiths in the Punjab region of northern India, respectively. Thai Pongal is dedicated to Surya, the sun god, and celebrates the net increase of sunlight in the days following the winter solstice. Lohri is also a welcoming of longer days, and traditionally marked the end of the crop sowing season. Celebrants sing and dance around bonfires and children go door to door in hopes of receiving gifts from those dwelling inside, in a practice not unlike the trick or treating tradition of Halloween. In East Asia, The Chinese, Japanese, and Koreans celebrate Dongzhi, which, owing to the traditional ideas of yin and yang forces, conceives of the lengthening days following the solstice as yielding an increase of positive energy throughout the earth. Influenced by the traditions of the ancient Celts, modern practitioners of Druidry observe a holiday known as Alban Arthan. Among other things, this holiday commemorates the death of the Holly King, a personification of winter, at the hands of his son, the Oak King, a personification of Summer. Alternatively, for the people of Iran that celebrate Yalda Night, the longest evening of the year is when the forces of evil are at their height. In response, families come together to eat, recite poetry and, prior to the revolution of 1979, would drink together late into the night. According to tradition, watermelon, pomegranates and other red fruits are eaten, as red is the color of the earliest morning sunlight and symbolizes the radiance of life.
What is that which is common to all of these festivities? All of them take place on or around the winter solstice, but why is this important? And why, despite their cultural differences, do those who celebrate them engage in similar behaviors and practices? Why, for example, have ritual gift giving, overeating, and drunkenness been hallmark traditions of these celebrations throughout history? First, it behoves us to understand the significance of the winter solstice for the ancient agriculturalists of our species. Before modern innovations like space heaters and microwaves appeared on the scene, whether mankind survived or perished depended in no small part on its ability to ascertain the progress of the seasons and to adjust the behavior of its collectives accordingly. The marking of the winter solstice by our forefathers was of particular importance, for the knowledge that they could look forward to a gradual increase of sunlight allowed them to assess and regulate their reserves of food with accuracy, and to anticipate the next year’s sowing season. In spiritual terms, however, the waning and waxing amounts of sunlight coming before and after the winter solstice represented, to many groups of people, a symbolic death and rebirth of the sun.
The excesses of midwinter celebrations are of peculiar interest in this regard. With the coldest months of the year yet to come, brutal winters induced many societies to slaughter most of their cattle, as the resources required to feed and keep them alive over the winter were more than the collective could bear to expend. This meant that fresh meat was more bountiful for these societies than at any other point throughout the year. Additionally, most of the alcohol that had been made during the year had finished fermenting and was ready for consumption around this time. I believe there is, however, more to the luxuriance of late December than a simple plentitude of meat and alcohol. I have begun to see the wintertime indulgences that humankind has engaged in from prehistory until now, whether sprung out of necessity or not, to be emulations of the Sun, which, continually reborn, yields its light and warmth to us unceasingly and is the primary source of energy for the vast majority of life on this planet. This seeps through around Christmas as it is celebrated today in specific practices, such as the donating of toys, food, and coats to the needy, and the aforementioned excesses of overeating and the heavy consumption of alcohol. The holiday was, not unlike Saturnalia, a rowdier affair in the past and quite the booze fest for most of its history until folks like Charles Dickens and Washington Irving endeavored, through their literary work, to paint a different, more family friendly, picture of Christmas. That its practices partake of a solar myth can also be gleaned in the generally held sentiment that Christmas is not about receiving, but giving, and more concretely in the wonder inculcated in the hearts of children as they awaken to a bounty of gifts beneath their christmas trees. In possession of new treasures, their arrival due to seemingly magical forces (Santa, flying reindeer, etc.), the children discover themselves to be the beneficiaries of an otherworldly benevolence. It’s hard not to see in their situation, a reflection of life’s with respect to the magnificence of the sun. Our star, like Santa Clause, confers a boon upon us which can never be requited. And it is only our knowledge of its meanderings that have enabled us to propagate ourselves across the planet to the extent that we have.
This ancient aspect of the holiday season was revealed to me in a very personal way as I prepared to piece this bit of writing together. I recalled that a loved one once told me that their family would come together and sing happy birthday to Jesus every Christmas Eve night. What once appeared to me as something benign and endearing now strikes me as something profound: I realized that people had been doing this very thing in different forms since at least the Stone Age. Regardless of whatever religious narrative that it has been woven into throughout the millennia, the fact remains that what has been ultimately celebrated at this time of year is not the birthday of a divine being, but of the sun, the actual object of my loved one’s song. Before the fictions of Jesus Christ, Odin, Surya, Santa Clause, and Saturn were invented, the meaning of the winter solstice was the resurrection of the sun and the salvation of all who depend on it.
With this in mind, it’s possible for us to discern, in the practice of White Elephant gift exchanges, the coldest of lessons which Christmas can teach us. The term White elephant originates in a form of gift giving that the kings of Siam were rumored to engage in. In order to reduce those who had displeased them to financial ruin, they would give the person in question a gift of an albino elephant. Albino elephants are extremely rare, and as it was a gift from the king could not be disposed of easily, if at all. Without much of a choice, many of those that received white elephants were forced into bankruptcy due to the costs of caring for such exotic beasts. However, it is well known that the rules of white elephant gift exchanges as they are practiced today involve neither the extravagance nor the undue financial burden of the gifting of actual white elephants themselves. The rules are quite simple: Everyone brings a gift and sets it under the christmas tree. The participants are then assigned a number by lot to determine the order in which the presents will be opened. After the first person takes their turn choosing and unwrapping a gift from under the tree, the next person must decide if they want to steal what has been unwrapped or choose a different gift to unwrap themselves. This goes on until all players have gifts in their hands, and the last person to choose a gift is often seen as having the largest advantage, for they can choose to steal any of the gifts that have been unwrapped before their turn, should they so choose.
What constitutes a proper gift for these exchanges remains highly subjective. It is generally agreed upon that the gifts can be either impractical or useless, humorous in nature, and without value in the eyes of those who would give it away. Things like socks, outdated household items, kitschy art, and whoopee cushions tend to be standard white elephant fare. Some people will, either by accident or as a misunderstanding of how white elephant gift exchanges differ from normal ones, bring something valuable for participants to squabble over. However, what fills me with disgust is that oftentimes it doesn’t take something of outright value to kickstart the engines of greed in us; it seems that even when all gifts are essentially valueless, some participant or other will either covet the gift of one from whom they cannot steal, or, having had their gift stolen from them by someone later in the queue, will harbor a grievance against them and in doing so demonstrate a failure to keep in mind the reason for such practices in the first place. I have only my own experiences to reflect upon in this regard, but this has been characteristic of every white elephant gift exchange I’ve participated in thus far and likely will continue to be for as long as I am alive, and although it’s frustrating, this isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It puts things into perspective, after all, and can tell us a bit about the kind of beings we are.
It’s ironic that the pettiness of humanity becomes so obviously on display during what is generally taken to be the most selfless time of the year. If one considers the envy and the forming of grudges so stereotypical of white elephant gift exchanges, or the stampedes and violence between folks shopping for Christmas gifts that accompany Black Friday every year, it appears that humankind must, as a matter of necessity, fail to express or to emulate the values it has set for itself. Whether this ugliness can be attributed to a defect inherent in the constitution of the species or is more indicative of the spirit of the times in which we live is a question beyond the scope of this essay. On one hand, a chasm will always lie between our ideals and how they are reflected in our actions, as surely as one exists between the sacred and the profane, or between the nature of the divine and that of humanity. On the other hand, the 1914 Christmas truces in the trenches of World War 1 indicate that we are perhaps capable of conducting ourselves, if not with dignity, then at least better than we are at present. This may be the most cliche way to end an exhortation on the holiday season, but if I were so bold as to ask for anything this year, it would be for each of us to do something deliberately, no matter how insignificant, as a reflection of the values of midwinter celebrations as they have existed since time immemorial. In this way, the conduct of humankind may operate more accurately with respect to the ideals which inspire it, and the spirit of all may burn that much brighter, not unlike the sun, which surely will, as it has since time began, return to us in the year to come.
Happy holidays to each and every one of you
Daniel Nichols is a confused soul living in Thailand and actively preaching the gospel of Waste throughout the greater Bangkok metropolitan area. When he's not teaching conversational English, Dan likes to take pictures and read old books. He plans to pen critical essays on whatever he deems worthy of writing about and if he gets creative enough, he might dabble in the realm of fiction.
