wassailing – Dan Harper

Winter Solstice

Sermon copyright (c) 2024 Dan Harper. As delivered to First Parish in Cohasset. The sermon as delivered contained substantial improvisation. The text below may have typographical errors, missing words, etc., because I didn’t have time to make any corrections.

Readings

The first reading was an excerpt from the long poem titled “Shapechangers in Winter” by Margaret Atwood (not available online due to copyright restrictions).

The second reading was a short poem by Unitarian Universalist poet Annie Finch titled “Winter Solstice Chant” (available online here).

Sermon: “Winter Solstice”

Beginning about fifty years ago, an unknown number of religious progressives began drifting away from traditions like Christianity, Judaism, and secular humanism to embrace Paganism. Paganism is an umbrella term that includes a variety of traditions, but probably the best known of the Pagan traditions is Wicca. People who follow the Wiccan tradition usually observe eight main seasonal celebrations — I say “usually,” because Wicca is extremely decentralized and people decide on their own how to practice Wicca. But the eight usual Wiccan celebrations include solstices, equinoxes, and the four days roughly equidistant from solstices and equinoxes; and each of these has its own name, so that for example the winter solstice celebration is called Yule, or Yuletide.

Back in the 1990s, I had a friend who was a Pagan and a Unitarian Universalist minister. In my recollection, she was a feminist who was inspired by Wiccan theologies that placed more emphasis on the divine feminine than on the divine masculine. And my recollection is that she was one of the Pagans who paid great attention to aesthetics, with carefully decorated worship spaces, with special aesthetically pleasing clothing, with compelling music, with incense, and so on — aesthetics that engaged the intellect, the senses, and the emotions in deep and meaningful ways.

When she finished qualifying as a Unitarian Universalist minister, several of us were curious where she would find a position as a minister. There are many Unitarian Universalist congregations that are definitively humanist, and it was hard to imagine a goddess-worshipping Pagan as their minister. There are even more Unitarian Universalist congregations that engage the head far more than the heart, and it was hard to imagine those congregations valuing the aesthetic skills of our frined.

We were a bit surprised when she was hired as the assistant minister of King’s Chapel in Boston. How would a Pagan minister fit into a Christian Unitarian Universalist congregation? But she pointed out that King’s Chapel is really good at ritual; they use a poetic prayer book; and they have a beautiful building and music, and aesthetically pleasing rituals. We wondered how her Pagan theology would mesh with King’s Chapel’s Christian theology, but she pointed out they were progressive Christians who were feminist and LGBTQ-friendly and oriented towards making the world a better place.

I’ve been thinking about this friend of mine this month. Here in the northern hemisphere, late December seems to call out for ritual and for beauty. I think of our Christmas Eve candlelight service here in our Meetinghouse, with lots of candles, lovely music, and the same beautiful readings every year. That kind of beauty and ritual is both comforting and enlivening in the darkest time of the year. What we do here on Christmas Eve is not so different from Pagan winter solstice celebrations. The ritual is different, of course, but there are candles and lovely music and beauty. In the overall feeling, you can see a family resemblance there.

Part of the reason that there’s a family resemblance there is because both Christianity and Paganism are syncretic religions. From what I can observe, nearly all religions are syncretic. Every religion incorporates elements from the cultures in which they are embedded. Here in this country, we tend to associate Christmas with certain kind of music — Handel’s Hallelujah chorus; the carol “Go Tell It on the Mountains”; songs like “White Christmas.” Handel’s Messiah is European art music based on Western Christian traditions. “Go Tell It on the Mountains” has roots in African American traditions including both Christianity and traditional African beliefs and values. “White Christmas” is a pop song written by a Jewish composer.

We here in the United States tend to take this for granted, and we assume that everyone who celebrates Christmas sings the same songs. But Christmas is always influenced by the surrounding culture. For example, consider Maori Christmas songs. New Zealand is in the southern hemisphere, and one Maori Christmas song goes out of the way to disavow the connection of winter and Christmas: “Not on a snowy night / By star or candlelight / Nor by an angel band…” (1) In another example, Christmas in Ethiopia is associated with a traditional game that’s a bit like field hockey. A classic Ethiopian Christmas song says: “We are so glad Christmas is here. We can all play the Christmas game. When we do, everyone is equal….” (2) Ethiopia is close to the equator, with little variation in the length of days, with the result that Ethiopian Christmas songs don’t mention cold or snow or evergreens or shortened days.

Here in the northern hemisphere, however, Christmas does come at the darkest, coldest time of the year. As a result, in both Europe and North America Christmas has come to be associated with the winter solstice — with the longest night; with candlelight and starlight; with rituals to bring back the light and make the days grow long once again. Not surprisingly, we have incorporated a number of non-Christian customs into Christmas. And for us, this has become part of the magic and wonder of Christmas time.

One of the magical aspects of Christmas time that I especially enjoy is the singing of Christmas carols. Although we think of Christmas carols as being Christian, the reality is more complicated. It appears that Christmas caroling also has roots in the ancient custom of wassailing. Wassail is an alcoholic drink made out of apples. To go wassailing meant to go from door to door singing wassail songs, and at each house where you sang you’d get a glass of wassail to drink, and even gifts of coins. Thus Christmas caroling draws upon both Christianity, and ancient customs relating to the winter solstice.

We can see this same process at work in other rituals and traditions of this time of year. Santa Claus started out as the Christian Saint Nicholas, went to Holland where he became Sinterklaas, a skinny person whose saint’s day was December 5. Sinterklaas came to North American, put on weight, changed his name to Santa Claus, and became associated with Christmas. (3) Santa was given reindeer by Washington Irving in the early nineteenth century. In 1939, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer appeared in a department store promotional booklet, and then got popularized by a Jewish songwriter. Today Santa leaves presents under an evergreen tree, a symbol of ancient Paganism.

This mixing of — and invention of — cultural and religious traditions continues in our own day. Some American Jewish households have a Hannukah tree. Some American Hindu households put up a Christmas tree as a way of exposing their children to different cultural traditions. (4) Secular capitalism is another cultural influence: since 2005, for example, the “elf on the shelf” marketing juggernaut has become an integral part of Christmas. (5)

Today’s Christian fundamentalists and latter-day Puritans tell us that Christmas should be a purely Christan holiday — where they get to decide what “purely Christian” means — and that we should never allow elements of winter solstice celebrations to sully their purified Christmas. And today’s atheist fundamentalists tell us that we should have a perfectly pure secular society, where all religious holidays should only be celebrated behind closed doors.

These efforts to purify religion, to purify people’s thoughts and feelings, to purify people’s preferred rituals — these efforts mostly fail. Purification might work for a short time but human society keeps on growing and changing. In seventeenth century Massachusetts, the Puritans made Christmas illegal, in part to eradicate the custom of wassailing. But that effort at purification ultimately failed, as new Christmas and Yuletide customs evolved.

The old Puritans and today’s fundamentalists tend towards religious literalism. But we need not be religious literalists. We can experience religion as cultural production not unlike theatre and literature and music, where deeper meaning is communicated not literally but through metaphor. Thus, those of us who are not religious literalists do not have to believe in the truth or falsity of some Christian Christmas dogma. Instead, we can become alive to a wide range of metaphor and meaning.

For me, this is part of the attraction of observing the winter solstice. At this time of year, I seem to crave those things that make me feel connected with the cycles of the non-human world. At this darkest time of year, we think about the metaphors that go along with darkness, with the absence of light. In her book Dreaming the Dark, Pagan thealogian Starhawk talks about the many meanings of darkness: There is the darkness that represents “all we are afraid of, all that we don’t want to see — fear, anger, sex, grief, death, the unknown.” But, says Starhawk, there is also the kind of darkness she calls the “turning dark,” representing movement and change. And, says Starhawk, there is also the “velvet dark…[representing] touch, joy, mortality”; and the “birth-giving dark: seeds are planted underground, the womb is dark, and life forms anew in hidden place.” (6) Starhawk finds these many meaning in a metaphorical understanding of darkness.

And all these images and metaphors are present in the idea of the winter solstice: The dark that goes along with fear and grief and anger. The darkness that is not a color but is the absence of light. The dark that represents the turning of the year, the point at which the days grow longer once again. The dark that gives birth, as the growing sunlight will eventually bring springtime and new life (and perhaps this includes stories like the Christmas story, a story that centers around a new child who is born in the dark of the night). And the velvet darkness, the darkness that soothes and touches and brings joy. All these images can become part of a metaphorical interpretation of this time of year.

Nor do we need to identify a single simple literal meaning of complex metaphors. We don’t have to fit metaphors into a scientific world view. Sometimes a metaphor is just a metaphor; and sometimes we don’t even have to make rational sense out of a metaphor.

With that thought in mind, I’ll end with this poem by Mary Oliver:

Notes

(1) Translation from the New Zealand Folk*Song website, lyrics for “Te Harinui by Willow Macky, 1957” https://folksong.org.nz/nzchristmas/te_harinui.html accessed 16 Dec 2024.
(2) Translation from the description to the Youtube video “Munit and z Lovebugs – Asina Genaye (Ethiopian Christmas Song)” https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RoAPXsUaXN8 accessed 21 Dec 2024.
(3) Ivan Natividad, “For the Dutch, Santa Is Tall and Skinny. What Happened to Him in America?” University of California at Berkeley Research, December 21, 2023 https://vcresearch.berkeley.edu/news/dutch-santa-tall-and-skinny-what-happened-him-america accessed 21 Dec. 2024
(4) Syama Allard, Religion News Service, “How American Hindus spend Christmas,” December 23, 2022 https://religionnews.com/2022/12/23/how-american-hindus-spend-christmas/ accessed 20 Dec. 2024
(5) Kelsey McKinney, Vox website, “The Elf on the Shelf is the greatest fraud ever pulled on children,” Dec 15, 2016
https://www.vox.com/2014/12/10/7361911/elf-on-the-shelf accessed 21 Dec. 2024
(6) Starhawk, “Prologue,” Dreaming the Dark, 15th anniversary edition (Boston: Beacon Press, 1982/1997)

Five Yuletide Songs

Sermon — “Five Yuletide Songs”

This really isn’t going to be a sermon. Partly, this is an excuse to sing some holiday songs — because singing is one of the best things about the Thanksgiving-to-Christmas season. But the other reason I wanted to do this service is because I was trying to figure out exactly what a Christmas carol is.

First of all, a carol is a Christian religious song. We’re most familiar with Christmas carols, but there are also Easter carols and Whitsuntide carols. Second of all, “Christmas” has a precise liturgical meaning: it is one day only, December 25. The weeks before Christmas are actually the Advent season. Strictly speaking, you sing Advent carols during Advent, and save the Christmas carols for Christmas day.

In short, many of the songs we call “Christmas carols” are not Christmas carols, because either they’re secular (and not religious), or they’re about another holiday altogether.

Our first song, “Here We Come A-Wassailing,” is not religious, and it’s a wassailing song. Wassail is an alcoholic concoction made from apple cider and spices. To go wassailing means to go from house to house singing a song about wassail, in hopes that whoever is at the house will give you a drink and maybe some money. Wassailing probably dates back to pre-Christian paganism. It mostly involved people from the laboring classes going to the houses owned by the elite classes. After the wassailers sang, the rich people were supposed to pass out wassail and money — and if they didn’t, the wassailers might vandalize their house. This helps explain why Christmas was made illegal in the seventeenth century Massachusetts. The rich folks didn’t want working stiffs expecting handouts; and the old pagan custom of wassailing was undermining the Puritan social order.

[At this point in the service, we sang “Here We Come A-Wassailing”]

Our next Christmas song is “Jingle Bells,” written by James Lord Pierpont. James was a drinker and a ne’er-do-well whose debts got so bad, he and his wife had to live with his father, a Unitarian minister. Hoping to get rich quick, James then tried his luck in the Gold Rush, but returned to Boston two years later completely broke. He continued to live with his parents until his wife died in 1856. He then left his children with his parents, and went to Savannah, Georgia, to work as the organist at the Unitarian church there, where his brother was minister. James married a woman from Savannah, and they had to go live in her parents’ house. The Unitarian church closed because it was an abolitionist church, but James stayed in Savannah and wound up having to serve as a clerk in the Confederate Army, while his brother was a chaplain in the Union army. It’s hard to know how someone with such a tragic life could write such a happy song.

“Jingle Bells” is a sleighing song, not a Christmas song. The mid-nineteenth century genre of sleighing songs was a racy genre in its day — a young man and a young woman alone in a sleigh without supervision! But now, it evokes a sense of Christmas nostalgia.

[At this point, we sang “Jingle Bells”]

With our next song, “Go Tell It on the Mountains,” we finally get to a Christmas carol. It’s also an African American spiritual. It first appeared in print in 1901, in the book “New Jubilee Songs as Sung by the Fisk Jubilee Singers.” The Fisk Jubilee Singers, founded in the 1871, were the first African American superstar musical group. They performed at the White House in 1872, and toured Europe in 1873, the first African American music group to perform abroad. The piano accompaniment we’ll hear is by Harry T. Burleigh, arguably the first great African American composer. In the early twentieth century, he was hugely popular as a composer of art songs.

During the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, “Go Tell It on the Mountains” became popular after someone — maybe activist Fannie Lou Hamer — changed the words to “Go tell it on the mountains / To let my people go.” Though we won’t sing those words, that fits the song well, since the longing for freedom and justice is inherent in every African American spiritual. And that longing for freedom and justice, a core teaching of Jesus of Nazareth, is an integral part of the Christmas story itself.

[At this point, we sang “Go Tell It on the Mountains”]

“Good King Wenceslas,” our next song, takes for its hero a real person. Wenceslas ruled Bohemia from the year 921 until his brother, Boleslav the Cruel, assassinated him a decade later. Wenceslas became legendary as a good and righteous ruler who cared for the poor, and he was later canonized as a saint.

Is “Good King Wenceslas” a Christmas carol? The feast day of Saint Wenceslas is September 28, and the carol mentions St. Stephen’s Day, which is December 26. So you could argue that this carol should really be sung on either September 28 or December 26. However, John Mason Neale, who wrote the words, first published this song in his 1853 book Carols for Christmas-tide. So the author of the words intended this as a Christmas carol, even though it doesn’t mention Christmas. But I think of this as a Christmas carol for a very simple reason: one of the core teachings of Jesus of Nazareth was to care for people who are poor and hungry, and that’s what this carol is all about.

When we sing this, it’s fun to have high voices — sopranos, altos, and children — sing the parts marked “High”, and low voices — basses and tenors — sing the parts marked “Low,” while everyone sings the parts marked “All.” Because we’re Unitarian Universalists, feel free to go ahead and sing all of the parts, or none of them, or whatever you want.

[At this point, we sang “Good King Wenceslas”]

Our last song is “Jolly Old St. Nicholas.” Two different people — Emily Huntington Miller and Benjamin Hanby — wrote similar lyrics about a visit from St. Nicholas in the mid-nineteenth century. I went with Emily Miller’s lyrics, adjusting them a bit to avoid gender stereotyping.

I love this song because it’s one of the songs and poems that added Santa Claus, or St. Nicholas, to our Christmas mythos. I wouldn’t call it a religious song. It’s just happy and fun and not at all serious, and as such it presages a whole raft of later fun Christmas songs, ranging from “Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer,” to “All I Want for Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth.”

I also love this song because Emily Miller tried to write from a child’s point of view. As goofy as it is, the song does capture some of what it’s like to be a child at Christmas. It reminds me, just a little bit, of my own childhood Christmases.

[At this point, we sang “Jolly Old St. Nicholas”]

As I said, this sermon is mostly an excuse to sing some fun holiday songs. But I hope it also gets you thinking about how our current Christmas mythos encompasses a wide range of moods and feelings. Some of our favorite Christmas songs are indeed Christian; but other favorite Christmas songs are actually pagan or completely secular. Some of our favorite Christmas songs touch on serious topics like poverty, freedom, and justice; while other favorite Christmas songs are just goofy and fun.

Maybe this helps explain why Christmas is such a big deal in our society. Christmas has grown beyond a purely Christian holiday to a broader cultural phenomenon. The Christmas mythos now has so many elements that there’s no way to incorporate all of them into your own personal celebration of Christmas. And so each family has the opportunity to make Christmas be what you want it to be.

If you want to focus your Christmas on the person of Jesus, you can do that; you can even choose your interpretation of Jesus — the kind personal Jesus, the social justice Jesus, the radical rabble-rousing rabbi Jesus, and so on. If you want to celebrate the pagan holidays of Yule and winter solstice, you can do that. If you want to leave out the religious content and make it a more-or-less secular cultural event, you can do that. If you want to ignore Christmas completely, that’s more difficult but it can be done.

And however you have decided to celebrate (or not celebrate) Christmas, I hope that connecting with family and friends is a part of this holiday season for you. For it is this which lies at the heart of every human celebration — our very human need for connection, for escaping loneliness and isolation to reach out and connect with other human beings.