Why is Christmas such a big deal?!

What we're truly seeking when we trim those trees

I love Christmas.

I’m not religious. The day itself means nothing to me, not really. As I raise my children, I’m trying to put the focus on the Winter Solstice, which feels more relevant to us and something tangible that we can celebrate. Yet I don’t even want to try to let go of all the pageantry and performance around Christmas - why is that?

Christmas is not the only festival in the calendar - religious or secular. It’s not even the biggest festival for Christians. Easter, really, is the main event, but it doesn’t get half the hype.

What is it about Christmas that makes us all so giddy?

I don’t think it’s just the presents and the food. I think it speaks to something deeply primal in us at this time of year - a visceral need, bound up with the seasons and our instinct for survival.

Disclaimer

Don’t read this if you have small children about! There are some parts of this that you may not want them to see…

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The origins of Christmas

When I tell my children that we celebrate Christmas because of the Winter Solstice, I’m not lying. Even though my six-year-old daughter, fresh from appearing as the Angel Gabriel in her school nativity (yes, I know), is eager to lecture me about how it’s really because of the birth of Jesus.

No one actually knows when Jesus was born. The historical evidence makes it more likely that it was around September, and at one point the Church calendar marked the event on 6th January. (He was also probably born around 6 or 7 BCE, but that’s another story.) For the record, there’s no doubt that Jesus was a real historical figure, and I do believe that he did good work preaching a message of love, compassion and understanding (something quite a few of his followers could do with paying closer attention to). I just don’t believe him to be a deity. (I wrote about this before, if you’re interested.)

Anyway, the reason that his birthday ended up being celebrated on 25th December was largely a PR one. When the early Church was getting going, they were having trouble getting people to abandon their pagan rituals. They soon realised that the best way to encourage people to move over to Christianity was to make it as easy as possible - if they incorporated the pagan practices, but gave them Christian meaning, the people wouldn’t have to change anything they did but the leaders got to say their country was Christian. Everyone was happy. So they commandeered Yule.

25th December was chosen because it roughly coincides with the Winter Solstice, usually on 21st or 22nd December, and the then-popular Roman festival of Saturnalia (17th - 23rd December). It feels like they were being a little belligerent in not simply choosing 21st December, which would have covered all the bases, but I guess they had to feel like they were getting their own way a little bit. Then they co-opted a great deal of the rituals already associated with that time of year - lighting fires, decorating homes with greenery, upending the social order for a day, feasting, and celebrating light. All of this made for a fairly seamless transition - I can imagine the people going, “yeah, fine, say it’s all for Jesus if you like, we’ll just carry on…”

The same was done with many Christian festivals that have their origins in pagan practices - Easter, Halloween (All Hallows’ Eve, in the Christian calendar), Epiphany, Mothers’ Day and even St John’s Day, just after the Summer Solstice, all have pagan roots. But it’s Christmas that really caught the public imagination, and still holds it tight today.

The need for magic

I’ve read a lot recently from people saying that they’re not “lying” to their children about Santa Claus. They’ve been up front, right from the beginning, that it’s just a story. When my eldest child was born, I discussed with my husband what to do about Santa, and we decided to go ahead with him. But, in the years that followed, all this discourse about lying and traumatising children with deceit made me worry that I’d made the wrong choice.

After careful consideration, though, I’ve decided I’m happy with my decision. It isn’t just Santa that I’ve brought into my children’s lives - I talk to them about fairies, tree spirits, woodland guardians, karma, cosmic forces… My daughter, who is incredibly sharp and alert to the world, has challenged me on most of these elements, pointing out that she’s never seen them, asking if they’re truly real. My response, every time, is, “It’s up to you if you choose to believe in magic.” Interestingly, she thought about it and replied, “I do believe.” I’m open with her that not everyone believes in these things - the same as her Nonna believes in god and I don’t - but, for now at least, she seems to be choosing belief.

All of this has made me realise why I wanted to keep Santa - I think we need magic in the world. I don’t believe in Santa, and I don’t really believe in fairies and woodland spirits - not in a scientific sense of empirical reality that you can see and touch. But maybe reality isn’t quite as black and white as we like to think. Maybe the meaning of an idea can be more important than its empirical measurement. When my daughter asks me if fairies are real, I tell her that existence is complicated. The idea of fairies, and our ancestors’ commitment to honouring them, was about a relationship with the natural world and an understanding of the needs, behaviours and, for want of a better word, soul of the flora and fauna that we share this planet with.

Photo by Jay on Unsplash

When my child, eventually, inevitably, tells me that Santa isn’t real, I will tell her this: Santa isn’t one person. We talk about “him” as if he were to small children, because that makes it easier for them to make sense of. But when you’re grown-up enough, you can understand that it’s bigger than that. The idea of Santa is about sharing gifts to bring joy to people, it’s about generosity, spreading love, and recognising that we’re all connected as a global family. There were people who acted as Santas for their communities - St Nicholas in what is now Turkey, La Befana in Italy, Babushka in Russia… and they inspired other people to take up the mantle. Now there is a movement of “Santas” all around the world, wanting to spread that love, and we have chosen to be part of it. You can be too, if you like.

Light in the darkness

This is why, I think, Christmas has such a hold on our hearts, regardless of our religious or spiritual beliefs (or lack thereof). At this time of year, we need magic more than ever.

We are, in the northern hemisphere, entering the darkest time of the year. And, in the north, it gets very dark and very cold during winter. There’s a demonstration, here, of how the global north dominates the cultural narrative - I spent Christmas in Mexico once, and it was a strange experience to see the halls decked with holly and ivy and Santas in fur-lined suits while we walked around in shorts and flip flops in the sweltering heat. But this is now the prevailing concept of Christmas, born from frozen lands where people huddled around fires and anxiously awaited the return of the sun, hoping they had enough food and sturdy enough shelter to last them until spring.

The Winter Solstice was an important moment for our ancestors. The shortest day had passed, and the light was beginning to return - they were still in the depths of winter, a dangerous time during which life hung in the balance, but the end was in sight. The year had turned. They could believe that they might just make it through. Winter is, for most of us in the affluent west, now, less fraught with danger, but it’s still a time that feels barren and desolate. It’s a time that we feel vulnerable and a little under siege from the frost and the rain and the snow. We’re often more isolated. The lack of light and warmth can bring down our spirits. Our bodies want to sleep, but our modern lives won’t allow the rest and slowing down we so desperately need. If ever we needed something to lift us up and nurture our souls, it’s now.

We need Christmas. Or the Winter Solstice. Or Saturnalia. The name is unimportant. This festival, at this time of year, speaks to a primal need in our souls for magic. We need those twinkly lights to brighten the long December evenings. We need those moments of gifting and sharing to bolster us through times that still feel lean. We need that festive cheer to bring us some much yearned for human connection.

Maybe, in these modern times, we also need the reminder of how much we have. Of how protected we now are from the elements. Of how simply we can turn on lights and heating, and what rich abundance surrounds us. Perhaps recognising how lucky we are to be so insulated at such a potentially hostile time of year can encourage us to empathise with those around the world who don’t have such luxuries. Perhaps it can drive us to be more generous, compassionate and aware all year round. After all, if it weren’t for a twist of fate, we’d be at the mercy of the brutal winter elements right now.

Photo by Anton Shcherbakov on Unsplash

At other times of year, nature offers up enough magic of its own for us to get by on. At Easter, we see the bluebells blooming, the rose buds unfurling, and the blossom leaping from the trees. In summer, we bask in the heat and revel in the long evenings, and every day seems to bring its own celebration. Autumn gives us abundance to enjoy, but it’s interesting that, as the light begins to fade and the plants begin to die, we begin to lean on rituals like Halloween to cast some protective and invigorating spells around us. But in winter… It seems like a dead time, although so much is happening beneath the surface. Roots are expanding, shoots are strengthening, and even the decaying leaves are becoming nutrients for future growth. But we can’t see any of this taking place. We can’t see the complex acts of creation at work in the dark. We just have to believe. Life, in winter, is an act of faith.

No wonder we need to weave some magic to help us along.

So I’m relishing every moment of adorning the tree, stringing up lights and filling my home with candles. I’m savouring the act of making most of my gifts myself, to add a little something special and to avoid the capitalist veneration of needless consumption. I’m enjoying planning and preparing food, and throwing myself into festive activities with my family. I’m leaning into time by the fire under a cosy blanket, and making the most of what this season has to offer. Because I think that’s what we truly love about Christmas - the lesson that, when the world seems at its darkest and emptiest, we can come together to make something beautiful.

And that’s real magic.

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