Most historians suggest that Jesus was born in the Spring. I bet he was a Taurus, like me. Not saying that I am in any way like Jesus is. But he seems like a Taurus to me. Bullheaded. Stubborn. Homebody. In great need of material comforts.
I’m joking. Jesus was probably a Pisces. You know, the fish. That’s more like it. Anyway, we didn’t always celebrate his birthday on December 25. It was probably around the third century when it was moved to that December date, which happened to coincide with the pagan festival of Saturnalia. That was a festival that honored the god Saturn with gift-giving.
Personally, I think if it is going to be about his birth, we should study history and figure out when that was. Christmas in March. I’m dreaming of a rainy Christmas.
Of course, one of the main figures in Christmas is Santa Claus. His name is often interchanged with good old Saint Nick. But the real Saint Nicholas wasn’t some bearded jolly old, bowl full of jelly, kind of guy. No. He was born in Turkey, back around 280 A.D. He became a Christian bishop, and he was known for his generosity. He gave away his large inheritance to help the needy. The whole “name thing” came from the Dutch, as they called him Sinter Klaas. Of course, that morphed into Santa Claus. And now. Ho. Ho. Ho.
I mentioned the other day that the Germans gave us the tradition of putting up a tree indoors. And it is true, they did. But it was that German Prince Albert who took it over to England. You see, he married to his cousin, the English Queen Victoria. (That’s a story for another day.) He was 21 years old when they wed. At some point after that, he introduced the Christmas tree to his new wife, Vicky. Well, when word of this got out in England, people went crazy for the idea. There was a drawing of the couple in front of a Christmas tree that appeared in “Illustrated London News” in 1848. The commoners saw it and had to be just like the royals.
Back to Saint Nicholas, we may as well talk about another tradition related to him. According to big legend, we hang stockings by the chimney with care, thanks to him. The story goes that there was a poor man who didn’t have enough money for his three daughters’ dowries. Somehow, Saint Nick learned of his troubles, and he dropped a bag of gold down their chimney one night. Not into the fire. You see, the girls had hung their wet stockings on the hearth to dry out. And the gold dropped into their socks. And we still do it now. Of course, bite-sized Snickers and candy canes aren’t the same as bags of gold.
But we really are giving a lot of gold. Between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day last year, the U.S. Postal Service delivered around 910 million packages. That’s a lot of Christmas giving. That doesn’t include the almost 15 billion pieces of mail. Or UPS. Or FedEx. Stuff that in your stocking.
And speaking of hanging things up? The Consumer Product Safety Commission says we are clumsy where that is concerned. Nearly 15,000 people visit hospital emergency rooms each November and December from holiday-related decorating accidents. Up on the housetop. Click. Click. Click.
Of course, modernism and consumerism have made the holiday popular. Early on, Christmas was not that big of a deal. Go back to the time of the Puritans settling in Boston. Christmas was outlawed. From 1659–1681, if anyone was caught celebrating, they would face a fine for making merry. Skip ahead to after the Revolutionary War. Christmas was of little concern, so much so, that Congress even held their first session on December 25, 1789.
Christmas wasn’t proclaimed a federal holiday for almost another century. Congress passed the motion here in the United States on June 26, 1870. But apparently, there is still some question about its constitutionality.
But whatever the holiday means to you, no matter how you celebrate the day or not, I pray with everything that is in me, that you will know joy and peace.
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“Peace begins with a smile..”
― Mother Teresa
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“The world is quiet here.”
― Lemony Snicket
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“When you do things from your soul, you feel a river moving in you, a joy.”
― Rumi
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We hang. We fall. All in the name of Christmas. In March.
