Saturday, December 21, 2024

A Christmas Tapestry1

Christmas in America has something for virtually everyone—even the Scrooges, and particularly the Bob Cratchits. Ancient customs (Christian and non-Christian) and diverse modern traditions have become so mingled, it is difficult to know what it all means—if anything. Christmas in the marketplace now begins before Thanksgiving and ends sometime after the beginning of the New Year (or whenever you take down your Christmas tree). Merchants capitalize on every trapping of Christmas from Rudolph to the crèche, and music, serenading your shopping, ranges from “Jingle Bells” to “Away in a Manger.” Christmas Marketing is highly successful, and at this time of year we are in a mood to be separated from our money—whether giving gifts or responding to some obscure charity making its appeal after our second trip to the wassail bowl. Commercialism is not all bad, however. In many ways, what is good for the marketplace is good for the country, and what is good for the country generally translates into chickens in our Christmas pots.

            The season has religious roots as well—a lot of different roots, it seems. Naturally we are reminded of the baby born in Bethlehem. But before Christians started celebrating the birth of Jesus in late December (begun in the middle of the fourth century) the Roman empire celebrated Saturnalia, a Roman agricultural festival incorporating many of the same customs we still observe today at Christmas. Saturn was a venerable deity in Italy fabled to have reigned during a period of peace and happiness. The twenty-fifth of December (then reckoned as the winter solstice) was celebrated both as the birth of the Invincible Sun and Mithras, the Persian deity of light. The ancient Jewish Feast of Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, which commemorates the rededication of the Jewish Temple and Jewish political Independence also falls in December. Kwanzaa, an African American celebration, based on African harvest traditions, has been celebrated in America since 1966. The customs and symbols of these non-Christian festivals have merged with the Christian and continue to be celebrated in the American winter solstice: lights, candles, gift-giving, feasting, family gatherings, shopping, evergreen trees, garnishes of holly and mistletoe, and black-eyed peas and collard greens. Somehow, it all seems to make sense even to narrowly Christian America. There is something distinctly egalitarian and democratic about our winter solstice. The “huddled masses” brought their winter customs with them, and we later generations have woven them all together (menorah, piñata, wassail bowl, parties, Santa Claus, Christmas trees, midnight masses, Yule logs, and candles) into a textured winter-solstice tapestry.

            I like the diversity—even its commercialism. It all enriches the texture of the tapestry. But it is difficult to know how it all fits together. What does it all mean? We celebrate both the religious and the secular aspects of Christmas. We are nostalgic when Bing Crosby sings “White Christmas,” and enjoy the cycles of parties and receptions with their tinsel, lights, food stuffs, and spirits (hopefully in moderation). On the other hand, the sobering thought that some two thousand years ago the secular was uniquely invaded by the holy, as Christian faith affirms it, still encourages hope in even the most skeptical Scrooge.

            Making sense of the collage of diverse symbols and customs in its entirety and finding some significant reason for the season as we now celebrate it, however, is a challenge. Of course, some people have all the answers and dismiss everything different with a “Bah! Humbug! I prefer to embrace it all. In my more reflective moments, I see the American winter solstice symbolizing a search for stability and happiness. In the confusion and uncertainty seemingly dominating the world around us, these mingled traditions, which we hold onto, serve as anchors for the soul. We return to them annually because they are familiar and comforting. They nourish a deep-seated hope in Western culture, best expressed for me by the ancient Jewish longing for the advent of an ideal ruler, whose eternal reign is characterized by peace, justice, and righteousness (Isaiah 9:6-7). This is a hope shared by all people of good will and well worth celebrating.

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

1This essay was originally published as a newspaper opinion piece in the Springfield, MO, News-Leader and later, edited for publication in Charles Hedrick, House of Faith or Enchanted Forest? American Popular Belief in an Age of Reason (Eugene OR: Cascade: 2009), 70-71 (the book has a glossary).

Friday, December 6, 2024

Time Travel and the Bible

The people who wrote the New Testament (NT) were not, in their day, like those of us living today. They lived and wrote in the latter half of the first-century CE, many centuries before the Enlightenment of the eighteenth-century CE. The Enlightenment was an intellectual awakening in Europe and America that witnessed the birth of the critical method, the rejection of the hegemony of Christian belief, and the rise of reliance on human reason.

Hence, first-century people generally, by definition, were prescientific in their approach to the world. What things people generally today commonly assume about the world, would have seemed strange to them. For example, occasionally in the pages of the NT, the authors write as if they conceived the earth being flat, not globular, in shape. Hence, most people, who likely shared this view, upon hearing Rev 1:7 being read aloud (most people could not read), might not be surprised by John’s description of the imminent return of Jesus to the earth in judgment:

Look, he is coming with the clouds; every eye shall see him, even those who pierced him. (Rev 1:7; see also Rev 2:1, 20:8; Matt 4:8)

In the twenty-first century, however, the words, “every eye shall see him,” jump off the page for the careful reader. How can it be that from a globular surface every eye will see anything hovering over a point on its surface? And “even those who pierced him” suggests the event would occur in the lifetime of the writer, but it has been over 2000 years now and “those who pierced him” have long since died. Even the later author of Second Peter (3:3-11) recognized the problem and found a way to mitigate the immediacy of the return.

They knew nothing of unseen microorganisms, like germs that can cause disease. The world only became aware of germs that cause sickness in 1860 through the work of Louis Pasteur.1 They also did not understand that such physical ailments as muteness and deafness (Mark 9:37-43), blindness Matt 12:22-24), epilepsy (Matt 17:14-21), leprosy (Mark 1:40-45), and mental illnesses (Mark 5:1-17) are biologically induced. They, on the other hand, believed them to be caused by demons or evil spirits. They thought such difficulties required the services of a faith healer or thaumaturge to exorcise the spirit forces that caused such abnormalities, rather than treatment by a physician. Medicine was not very advanced in those days. Some health issues, people imagined, could even be cured by a kind of religious magic.

And God did extraordinary miracles by the hands of Paul, so that handkerchiefs or aprons were carried away from his body to the sick, and diseases left them, and the evil spirits came out of them. (Acts 19:11-12 RSV)

            Of course, the spirit of science was alive before and during the first century, but it was not the view of the general population and is not represented among the thoughts of NT writers, much less those of the Old Testament. For example, Aristotle (4th century BCE) knew that the earth was spherical because in an eclipse, the earth’s shadow on the surface of the moon was always circular. Some years later, Eratosthenes (3rd century BCE) is credited with proving that the earth was spherical in shape.2

            Readers of the NT must remember that they are traveling back in time some two thousand years when they delve into its pages. There were bright spots, sure enough, but in general, the world was as dark as it was in the Dark Ages.3 What little scientific progress there was did not benefit the welfare of the general population of the world. Hence, do not read the NT as if it provides an accurate description of the nature of the world and how to get along in it. When reading the NT in the 21st century, one must exercise a willing suspension of disbelief and aim not to inculcate its views on how the world works. To do so, would be to risk losing the world in which you now live with its scientific achievements and medical advances.

Charles W. Hedrick
Professor Emeritus
Missouri State University

1https://www.britannica.com/biography/Louis-Pasteur

2Eric M. Rogers, “The Triumph of a Theory,” pp. 111-116 in Louise B. Young, ed., Exploring the Universe (2nd edition; Oxford: Oxford university, 1971). And Aristotle, “The Shape of Heaven and Earth (4th Century B.C.),” Young, Exploring the Universe, 116-121. Carl Sagen, Cosmos (New York: Wings Books, 1980), 12-16.

3The Dark Ages consist of the centuries (ca. 500-1500) following the fall of the Roman Empire.

4https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suspension_of_disbelief