This morning I woke with the music and words of Good King Wenceslas in my head. Somehow, my brain new that it was frosty outside, and I woke to the refrain, "Gathering winter fuel".
Pulling back the curtains and feeling the chill, seeing the neighbors twinkling lights on the roof; despite my own unpreparedness, Christmas has arrived .
There are many traditions and cultural influences surrounding the Christmas season, and those songs, sights, smells and visions set a magical backdrop to a holiday that is difficult to ignore, even if you don't celebrate Christmas. The blatant gluttonous commercialization of the holidays, has eclipsed some of the more meaningful traditions, and today, I would like to bring back just a taste of its essence.
In many parts of the world, Christmas falls in the dead of winter, when the days are the shortest, and the nights are longest. Visions of black nights, twinkling stars and the star of Bethlehem are embossed in our memories along with the flames of the Yule log , and the smell of a real Christmas pine. The season is steeped in medieval and secular tradition, as well as the celebration of the birth of the Christ child., and in countries where Christianity is not the dominant religion, people of different cultures can still join together and enjoy the festivities and traditional offerings.
Had I been born Hindu, or Jewish, or Muslim, then different times of the year, and different traditions would be special to me. Other religions and other cultures, hold sacred certain times of the year during which they commemorate or celebrate significant occasions, or deities, and practice rituals that are taught to them as children, and become an embodiment of their everyday lives.
In an ideal, inclusive world, we, as one human race could enjoy the abundant offerings of such a rich tapestry of cultural customs. Such a rich tapestry that would help us to hold together in a complementary, symbiotic understanding of one another. Oh Holy night...
So today I hope to remind you of some of the simple things of Christmas;
some of the more significant writings that embody the spirit of Christmas, without quoting from the scriptures or presuming to be an academic on the subject.
Christmas as we know it today is a Victorian invention, and is probably the most celebrated holiday in the world.it is now a product of hundreds of years of both secular and religious traditions from around the world.
Norway is the birthplace of the Yule log. In their celebration of the return of the sun at winter solstice, the ancient Norse used the Yule log in their rituals. The word “Yule” came from the Norse word hweol, meaning wheel. . The Norse believed that the sun was like a great wheel of fire that rolled to and from the earth.
Decorating evergreen trees had always been a part of the German winter solstice tradition.
After Germany’s Prince Albert married Queen Victoria, the Christmas tree tradition was brought to England. In 1848, the first American newspaper carried a picture of a Christmas tree, and the custom began spreading within a few years.
In 1828, the American minister to Mexico, Joel R. Poinsett, brought a red-and-green plant from Mexico to America. Perfect colors for the Christmas holidays these plants, called Poinsettias after Poinsett, began appearing in florists all over America.
Mistletoe was said by the Celtic and Teutonic peoples to have magic powers to heal wounds and increase fertility. By the Victorian era the English would hang sprigs of Mistletoe in the doorways at Christmas, and it became a tradition to kiss anyone standing under the sprig.
Plum Pudding, or Christmas pudding, is an English dish dating back to the middle ages. The ingredients, raisins and dried fruits, flour sugar, spices and suet, are boiled in a cloth , and served on a dish flaming in brandy, with cream. Yum!
Caroling also began in England. Wandering minstrels would travel from town to town visiting castles and homes of the rich. The musicians hoped to receive a hot meal or coins in return for their performance.
The words to “Good King Wenceslas”, were written in 1853 by John Mason Neale, and was set to a piece of music written 300 years earlier in Finland.
King Wenceslas was king of Bohemia in the 10th century. He was a Catholic, and was assassinated for his beliefs. After his death he was proclaimed a Martyr by his supporters, and he became the Patron Saint of the Czech Republic. There are no references to the nativity in the song, but it became a popular carol because of the reference to St Stephen’s feast day, which is the 26th December.
His message is clear. He who helps the poor, no-matter how rich or important they are, will find redemption.
Good King Wenceslas looked out
On the feast of Stephen
When the snow lay round about
Deep and crisp and even
Brightly shone the moon that night
Though the frost was cruel
When a poor man came in sight
Gath'ring winter fuel
"Hither, page, and stand by me
If thou know'st it, telling
Yonder peasant, who is he?
Where and what his dwelling?"
"Sire, he lives a good league hence
Underneath the mountain
Right against the forest fence
By Saint Agnes' fountain."
"Bring me flesh and bring me wine
Bring me pine logs hither
Thou and I will see him dine
When we bear him thither."
Page and monarch forth they went
Forth they went together
Through the rude wind's wild lament
And the bitter weather
"Sire, the night is darker now
And the wind blows stronger
Fails my heart, I know not how,
I can go no longer."
"Mark my footsteps, my good page
Tread thou in them boldly
Thou shalt find the winter's rage
Freeze thy blood less coldly."
In his master's steps he trod
Where the snow lay dinted
Heat was in the very sod
Which the Saint had printed
Therefore, Christian men, be sure
Wealth or rank possessing
Ye who now will bless the poor
Shall yourselves find blessing
One of the oldest carols to be published was that of “The Boar’s Head,”
First published in 1521 by Wynken de Worde in Christmasse Carolles
The boar's head in hand bear I,
Bedecked with bays and rosemary;
And I pray you, my masters, be merry,
Quot estis in convivio. [As many as are at the feast]
Caput apri defero, reddens laudes Domino.
[I bring in the boar's head, giving praises to the Lord]
The boar's head, as I understand,
Is the rarest dish in all the land,
Which thus bedecked with a gay garland,
Let us servire cantico. [serve it with a song]
Caput apri defero, reddens laudes Domino.
Our steward hath provided this,
In honour of the King of bliss,
Which on this day to be servèd is
In Reginensi atrio. [In Queen's hall]
Caput apri defero, reddens laudes Domino.
Caput apri defero, reddens laudes Domino.
One of the most colorful poems telling the story of Christmas and describing the nativity, was written by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.
It is written like a ballad, and paints a detailed picture of his perception of the Epiphany.
The Three Kings
by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Three Kings came riding from far away,
Melchior and Gaspar and Baltasar;
Three Wise Men out of the East were they,
And they travelled by night and they slept by day,
For their guide was a beautiful, wonderful star.
The star was so beautiful, large and clear,
That all the other stars of the sky
Became a white mist in the atmosphere,
And by this they knew that the coming was near
Of the Prince foretold in the prophecy.
Three caskets they bore on their saddle-bows,
Three caskets of gold with golden keys;
Their robes were of crimson silk with rows
Of bells and pomegranates and furbelows,
Their turbans like blossoming almond-trees.
And so the Three Kings rode into the West,
Through the dusk of the night, over hill and dell,
And sometimes they nodded with beard on breast,
And sometimes talked, as they paused to rest,
With the people they met at some wayside well.
"Of the child that is born," said Baltasar,
"Good people, I pray you, tell us the news;
For we in the East have seen his star,
And have ridden fast, and have ridden far,
To find and worship the King of the Jews."
And the people answered, "You ask in vain;
We know of no King but Herod the Great!"
They thought the Wise Men were men insane,
As they spurred their horses across the plain,
Like riders in haste, who cannot wait.
And when they came to Jerusalem,
Herod the Great, who had heard this thing,
Sent for the Wise Men and questioned them;
And said, "Go down unto Bethlehem,
And bring me tidings of this new king."
So they rode away; and the star stood still,
The only one in the grey of morn;
Yes, it stopped --it stood still of its own free will,
Right over Bethlehem on the hill,
The city of David, where Christ was born.
And the Three Kings rode through the gate and the guard,
Through the silent street, till their horses turned
And neighed as they entered the great inn-yard;
But the windows were closed, and the doors were barred,
And only a light in the stable burned.
And cradled there in the scented hay,
In the air made sweet by the breath of kine,
The little child in the manger lay,
The child, that would be king one day
Of a kingdom not human, but divine.
His mother Mary of Nazareth
Sat watching beside his place of rest,
Watching the even flow of his breath,
For the joy of life and the terror of death
Were mingled together in her breast.
They laid their offerings at his feet:
The gold was their tribute to a King,
The frankincense, with its odor sweet,
Was for the Priest, the Paraclete,
The myrrh for the body's burying.
And the mother wondered and bowed her head,
And sat as still as a statue of stone,
Her heart was troubled yet comforted,
Remembering what the Angel had said
Of an endless reign and of David's throne.
Then the Kings rode out of the city gate,
With a clatter of hoofs in proud array;
But they went not back to Herod the Great,
For they knew his malice and feared his hate,
And returned to their homes by another way.
My personal favorite was written by Christina Rossetti in 1872, called “In the Bleak Midwinter.” For me, it conjures up the Romantic Victorian image of Christmas in the snow, and examines the true meaning of giving from the heart.
Love, compassion and giving, are the essence of the Christmas spirit.
In the Bleak Midwinter
Christina Rossetti
In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty wind made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone;
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter
Long ago.
Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him
Nor earth sustain;
Heaven and earth shall flee away
When He comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty,
Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim
Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels
Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.
Angels and archangels
May have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim
Thronged the air,
But only His mother
In her maiden bliss,
Worshipped the Beloved
With a kiss.
What can I give Him,
Poor as I am?
If I were a shepherd
I would bring a lamb,
If I were a wise man
I would do my part,
Yet what I can I give Him,
Give my heart.
Depending on your spiritual beliefs, culture, or your family traditions, Father Christmas, (or Santa Claus as he is known in the USA), visits little children, (and big ones,) on Christmas eve, bringing presents down the chimney.
Clement Clarke Moore popularized the current image of Father Christmas in his poem published in 1822, “Twas the Night before Christmas”, also called “A visit from St Nicholas.”
St Nicholas was born in Asia Minor to a Greek family during the third century. He was the only son of wealthy Christian parents named Epiphanus and Johanna.
Nicholas lead a life devoted to Christ, and whose actions inspired compassion and charity. He developed a reputation for secret gift-giving, such as putting coins in the shoes of those who left them out for him, a practice celebrated on his feast day, (which varies depending on the Calendar used.
The name Santa Claus comes from the Dutch word Sinterklaas, which was a corrupted transliteration of Saint Nikolaos.
I am not going to post the whole poem here, but I am going to illustrate how Santa got his legendary rotund and jolly characteristics….
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.
His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I would like to finish by wishing you all a very Happy Christmas, Happy Holidays, and for those of who are of a different culture, or religion, a wonderful winter solstice.
Hanukkah and Kwanzaa are just around the corner..there are many traditions and celebrations to follow.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"
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