Christmas and solitude

By LIZ HUNTINGTON

Tis the season to be jolly, as the carol goes. Of all expectations in this cold, gray season, the greatest wish is for the visitation of “Christmas Spirit.” Seasonal Cheer, Joy to the World. The winter holidays are imbued with the longing for light, hope and spiritual renewal, at a time when the physical world withdraws its generosity.

We whirl through a frenzy of dinners, parties, presents, public pageants and family gatherings. Every minute of the holiday season is absorbed and suddenly spent, leaving most of us sitting in a pile of bills and wrapping paper, wondering how it all happened so quickly. And in the center of this wealth of giving and getting, loving and feasting, many of us feel a cool spot of distance and withdrawal. The need we sometimes feel for solitude and reflection can be particularly strong at Christmas.

If we examine the rich history and many meanings of our Christmas celebrations, we find that personal introspection and enjoyment are fundamental to the enjoyment of this great season, and that we would do well to include these experiences as positive and life-affirming aspects of our winter festivities.

The history of modern Christmas is complex and long, as finely branched as a family tree of great antiquity. Many of our winter celebratory practices have origins in agrarian rites observed by various Mediterranean cultures over 4,000 years ago. For these ancient people, the vitality of the life-giving earth reached its low ebb at the end of the harvest season. They believed that their gods struggled each year against darkness and chaos to bring light and fertility back to the earth, and humankind must also struggle to purify and renew its bond with life. The cosmic struggle of life against death ended with an extravagantly joyful celebration of the victory of the gods over death, which meant the land would be renewed for another ear. Feasting, the exchange of gifts, burning of ritual fires, homage to the regenerative powers of the earth (think of our traditional evergreen decorations), the singing of sacred songs, veneration of the humble and celebration for universal peace were all parts of these ancient religious rituals.

Through long centuries, these ancient celebrations of seasonal death and renewal diversified and blended with other solstice/winter festivals throughout Europe. The spread of Christianity and the redemptive teachings of Jesus did not replace pagan practices, but enjoyed the deepening of their meanings. Nothing better represents the intermarriage of great winter traditions than that other great personage of Christmas—Santa Claus.

Northern Europeans infused the fierce judgment of the pagan God Woden with the gentle compassion of a fourth-century Christian bishop of Asia Minor to bring the spirit of “Saint Nikholaus” to the winter pageantry of medieval Europe.

Throughout human experience, people have adopted the deep themes of death and rebirth to express their particular beliefs and dreams. Annual celebrations of renewal are many: Ramadan, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Wiccan Solstice, Kwanzaa and the birth of Christ.

We still use ancient rituals of celebrations, but practice them in a culture greatly removed from the physical forces from which these symbols first drew their power. Modern people do not fear the end of the world each winter. In the industrialized West, we live in relative abundance throughout the calendar year; gorging on winter food stores in December is not the radical act of faith it was in times predating supermarkets and chest freezers. When kindling Christmas candles or solstice fires, we do so surrounded by electric lights in heated homes.

In times past, everyone stopped daily work in order to observe the sacred passages of the old into the new. What was once a time for relaxing the rules of ordinary living, for Christmas and like celebrations, is now somehow a heightening of everyday activity and expectations. We do not seem to be released from our cares so much as to have very special ones added for the holiday season.

Christmas malaise is attributed to a variety of modern-era complaints—the materialistic distortions of western culture, humanity’s lack of faith, the shallowness of secular society. But we are no less human than ancient Babylonian farmers, and our needs and experiences are not less meaningful. Where, then, do we look to find what is missing?

Perhaps it is right under our noses and within us all along. Over and over during the winter months, the earth itself offers us the opportunity to reflect in stillness and silence. The enduring practice of joyful community celebration is founded on a sober regard for the fragility of our lives, recognition of the many shortcomings that we both enact and endure, and our will to enter a new season with replenished spiritual strength and purpose.

If a little voice inside you says that you do not want to go to more parties, and insists on a break from the noisy, sometimes frenetic work of holiday fun, listen to that voice. Withdraw for a while to the peaceful council of solitary meditation, to grieve, to regret, to amend and renew your personal pact with life. ’Tis the season.