In the United States the
exact moment of the Solstice as defined by scientists—when the sun
is shining farthest to the south directly over the Tropic of
Capricorn—occurred at 4:44 am Central Standard Time today. You can figure out its arrival in your neck
of the woods. The fact is that last night was the longest night of the
year and today the sky will begin to grow light earlier each
day.
In most so-called pagan traditions
around the Northern Hemisphere there were two ways to
celebrate the Solstice. Some lit fires
in the darkest night to summon the return of the sun. Others gathered at dawn to in some way
capture the first light of that return. The latter often involved human made
structures by which that light would strike a significant stone or
altar. Think pyramids in Egypt
and the pre-Columbian Americas, Stonehenge, Greek temples, medicine
wheels, certain Medieval Cathedrals, and far simpler wooden
structures in Northern Europe and Siberia.
Either way, those who observe
or re-create such rituals have found a way to do so.
Even if you do not observe the pagan
doings—or shun them as the devil’s work—chances are that you
to have been or will be celebrating the solstice yourself. Let the following recycled post explain.
Buried in traditional folklore,
swathed in symbolism, and steeped in
metaphor, Christmas and Chanukah share
the same impulses as Yule and its Celtic
and ancient British cousins, Meán Geimhridh and Meán Geimhridhh beloved by contemporary neo-pagans of
one stripe or another. At their core
there was in each of them a physical or metaphorical re-kindling
of the light at the darkest hour of the year offering a glimmering
of hope at a time of cold and starvation.
Archeological evidence shows
that the event—the shortest day and longest night of the year, when the sun’s
daily maximum elevation in the sky is the lowest—was marked, often using physical constructions to capture
the rising sun, in Neolithic times across widely separated cultures in Europe,
the Near East, Asia, and North
America. Stonehenge is just the most famous
example.
While the trappings of Christmas—the Yule
log, the holly and the ivy, the Christmas tree, mistletoe, wassailing
and other customs are commonly known
to be borrowed from pagan celebrations, the metaphor of the birth of the
Son, bringing light and salvation to the world is often overlooked. Among still nervous orthodox Christians, drawing parallels to pagan
belief is still actively discouraged.
The early Church actively squelched efforts to confabulate the Feast of the Nativity with the Festival
of Sol Invictus, introduced to the Roman
Empire in the Third Century under
the Emperor Elagabalus. It
was a religious revolution that briefly upended Jupiter as the primary
Roman God and put in his place the Invincible Sun, which combined
the characteristics and cult practices of several sun gods
including Syrian Elah-Gabal,
the Greek Apollo, and Mithras, a soldier god of Persian
origin.
The feast was set on December 25, during the Roman holiday period following Saturnalia. Later, under the Emperor Aurelian as Christianity grew in influence and
importance, attempts were made to incorporate worship of the Christ child
into the cult as an incarnation of Sol.
When the
Church became ascendant in the Empire, it did all it could to squelch
the festival, but like many popular pagan customs, it was so integrated
into many daily lives that it inevitably influenced how Christmas, by then assigned
to the same calendar day, was observed.
Well more
than a millennium later the English poet Christina Rossetti,
a member of the Pre-Raphaelite movement, and a devout Christian drew the clear connection
between Christmas and solstice in her poem In the Bleak Midwinter. Popularized
after her death and set to music to become what is considered by many
critics as one of the most beautiful of carols.
 |
| Under the title A Christmas Carol Christina Rossetti's poem was first published in the U.S. magazine Scribner’s Monthly in its January 1872 issue. She was extravagantly paid for the commissioned piece--her brother William Michael Rossetti recorded his astonishment at her receiving a "liberal payment" of £10 "for the little poem." |
In the Bleak Midwinter
In the bleak midwinter, 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 midwinter, 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 midwinter a stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty, Jesus Christ.
Enough for Him, whom cherubim, worship night and day,
Breastful of milk, and a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom angels fall before,
The ox and ass and camel which adore.
Angels and archangels may have gathered there,
Cherubim and seraphim thronged the air;
But His mother only, 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.
I think I
will dispose of the obtuse metaphors and with those old
pagans—and the smug new ones—kindle some small fire of hope and prayer
amid the dark and cold.
