CELEBRATING YULETIDE
December 19, 2004The Reverend Anne Felton Hines
Imagine living in a time before human beings understood the heavens and the earth, the movement of the earth on its axis as it circles the sun, and the cycles of nature that result. Imagine what it might have meant at this time of year to know only that the days were getting shorter and the nights longer; that the sun was hanging lower in the sky, and that its light and warmth were gradually disappearing. Imagine the fear you might experience as the plants on which you depended for food would no longer grow, and you were left with only what you'd been able to store ahead of time.
It would not be unreasonable, in such times, to believe that the sun was some powerful god, creating or destroying life at will. Even after realizing that life, indeed, does return, one could no longer fully trust this god in the sky, knowing now of its power and the capricious manner in which he seemed to use it.
This was the situation of the earliest humans, who knew nothing more than what they could experience with their senses and intuition. And so they fabricated stories and created rituals - first to try to coax back their "sun-god" during this coldest time of year, and then to celebrate its return.
They would light bonfires on hilltops to encourage their god to return. Offerings would be made of fern seed and mistletoe, for they thought that the fern seed was the carrier of the Sun-god's spirit, and that the mistletoe carried within it the god's fire.
The evergreen tree was to them a symbol of continuing - a fragrant and visible reminder of Nature's promise. The people would decorate this tree with fruit, cloth, and other trinkets in honor of fertility and the endless variety of the gifts in life.
The Druids believed that the leaves of the Oak tree - what we know as Mistletoe - fell from heaven, and that the tree on which it landed was favored by the gods. Because of its twin leaves and twin berries, mistletoe was seen as the celestial spirit of regeneration, or rebirth. Thus, it, too, has been used since ancient times as part of the festivities of the Winter Solstice.
And then, of course, there are the many stories of the Divine Child born at the time of year - Adonis, Dionysus, Tammuz, Heracles, Hermes, Vishnu, Aleyin.
In Egypt, there was the story of Osiris, whose birth was hailed by angelic voices singing of the coming of the Universal Lord; there were even three heavenly Wise Men who pointed to the Eastern star Sirius as a sign of his birth. And when he died, he resurrected to reign eternally in Heaven. Those who believed in Osiris were promised everlasting life, and in honor of his birth each year, the Egyptian High Priest would enter the cave said to be the place of his birth, returning several hours later holding a torch in one hand and a newborn infant in the other, exclaiming, "Behold, the Virgin has brought forth an infant, sent to us by the gods to bestow his light upon the world…." Osiris was known as Lord of Lords, King of Kings, God of Gods, the Good Shepherd; he was the Savior of the World.
In Persia, this Divine Child was named Mithra, the Sun-God, and was said to have been born on December 25th. He was found by shepherds watching their flocks in nearby fields, and the Magi brought gifts to him in his sacred birth-cave. During his life, he was said to have raised the dead and cast out devils, and just before his death shared his last supper with twelve disciples. He, too, then died and ascended to Heaven, where he could be seen daily traveling across the sky in a flaming chariot. He was known as the Light of the World, Sun of Righteousness, Son of Humanity, and Messiah. He, too, was the Savior.
When new generations developed new systems of belief, they would weave the stories and rituals of their ancestors into the stories and rituals of their new religions. This was especially true in Christianity.
And so today, the month of December is filled with festivities announcing the birth of Jesus of Nazareth, revered by Christians around the world as the Divine Child - both God and man, born of the union between God and a virgin, to later die and be resurrected. December 25th is celebrated as his birth date, though there is no evidence that he was born at this time of year. It is suspiciously close, however, to December 21st - the Winter Solstice, when the sun stands ready to begin its return of longer days and renewed life on earth; when pre-Christian folk built fires, decorated evergreen trees, and gathered together to celebrate, just as we do today.
But what's important about all these similarities between the ancient religions and those of today, isn't only that the symbols of today's winter celebrations - particularly that of Christmas - have been borrowed (some might say "stolen") from those early times. What's important is the core wisdom found in these stories: That all life is cyclical; that the darkness and cold of Winter will always give way to the light and warmth of Spring; that, indeed, the new life that emerges in Spring relies on the death of Winter. It is not a death so much as it is a time of hibernation - for the new life to grow in the womb of the earth, until it is "kissed" by the radiance of the sun.
And so it is for us. It is a time, as Rebecca Parker suggests, when we can be "stunned to stillness," in order to "remember who we are and why we are here."
Last Sunday afternoon, my daughter and I attended a workshop - if you can call something with 400 people a "workshop!" - with Marianne Williamson, author and "New Age Guru" who, unlike most other New Age leaders, is also an activist for peace and social justice. Williamson focused on the necessity for each of us to discover our part in changing the direction our country and the world appears to be headed. She made no illusions about her disappointment with the results of the recent presidential election.
She talked a lot about the fear that keeps us from living fully and authentically, and that when we can let go of that fear, we can then let love transform us and the world. "Love is to fear as light is to darkness," she said. "In the presence of one, the other disappears." When we let our fears be our main guiding principle, we are not able to truly love, and therefore are not able to be a solid force for change in the world.
We witnessed the power of fear the other day, I believe, when the sentence of death was announced for Scott Peterson. Cheers went up through the crowd that had gathered outside the courthouse; cheers, to hear that a young man was going to be put to death. I understand that some people believe in the death penalty from a rational, even love-based standpoint - though I do not agree with them. But to express joy when it's delivered - that to me seems nothing short of revenge, and revenge is always grounded in fear, not love. I felt so sad for those who were cheering, because I knew how filled with fear they were. I have experienced such fear myself; we all have at times.
But our entire country seems to be living in fear these days, and it is easy to get caught up in it. We're either afraid of creeping secularism or rabid fundamentalism; of rampant crime or the erosion of rights; of immorality or censorship; of the bleeding-heart liberals or the cold-hearted conservatives. And we're all afraid of the terrorists.
Williamson suggests that "We are here to participate in the…subversion of the world's dominant, fear-based" behavior. As religious liberals, we are called to say No to the darkness of fear that rules the world and our hearts today, and insist instead on the light and power of love. But we must first make sure that we can say No to our own inner fears which keep us from being fully who we are meant to be and doing the work of transformation. We must be willing to let go of the things of the past which have prevented us from moving more fully into the future.
We no longer fear the winter days, at least those of us who have a home to keep us warm. No longer do we feel compelled to light bonfires, or decorate pine trees, or throw herbs and corn on the logs in our fireplace, in order to bring back our sun-god. Instead we decorate our houses for whichever winter festivals we celebrate, turn up the heat, eat lots of food, spend lots of money, and hopefully take time to be with people we love.
But what if we also took seriously the ancient traditions which saw this as a time of re-awakening, of letting go of the past and opening up to the new year, with all its possibilities for wholeness and love and transformation? What if we used the fire of the ancient Yule Log to burn whatever has held us back - our fears, our regrets, our feelings of failure; so that we might engage life fully, grounded in openness and joy and love? What a force we could be for change - for the transformation of our nation and the world from fear to love.
In another December entry, Brian Nelson quotes Emerson biographer Robert D. Richardson, Jr.: "Anything that has ever been possible to human beings is possible to most of us every time the clock strikes six in the morning. On a day no different from the one now breaking, Shakespeare sat down to begin Hamlet…."
"As you begin again today," writes Brian, "remember that you may begin again every day."
This is the beauty of Winter Solstice; this is the possibility that awaits us all.
SETTING FIRE TO THE PAST
(People invited to write something on paper insert that they wish to let go of - a fear, a regret, an unhealthy behavior - something that is keeping them from being a source of transformation. Bring it forward and burn it in the fire of candle.)
© 2004 Anne Felton Hines. All rights reserved.
