Christmas Every Day

A number of cultures have traditionally practised the custom of going door-to-door during the Christmas season in crude disguises, performing skits or dances in return for hospitality. It is called mummering in Newfoundland, belsnickling in Nova Scotia, julebukking in Norway, and the Knocking Nights in Germany. In Lincoln Country, North Carolina it was called Christmas Boogering.

Though the custom seems to have died out during the Second World War, an elder recalls: “I must tell you about the ‘Christmas boogers.’ The most fun we had was seeing the ‘Christmas boogers.’ Between Christmas and New Year’s Day, most any time you could expect them to come to your house with false faces similar to the masks children wear for Halloween. The ‘boogers’ were the older young people and adults. A man might put his overalls on backwards, some men would dress up like women and maybe put on a dress. They would knock on the door, come in, dance around on the floor a little bit, and try to change their voices. We tried to guess who they were but sometimes we never knew. They didn’t come to get anything, but just to have fun.”

Another oldster remembered: “Well, people didn’t have store bought costumes. They made them, and lots would paint their faces. People in the crowd would do a dance, like the Charleston, and they hit a few steps. These people were next-door neighbors, they went in the community, and when they knocked on the door, you let them in. This was our entertainment, and we’d look forward to the Christmas boogers, as much as we did Christmas. It was during the time from Christmas to New Year’s.”

The most complete reminiscence comes from a man born in 1927: “We never did Halloween boogerin’, cause we didn’t have a way to get to town. We went Christmas boogerin. Course, we weren’t the only ones. We called ourselves the Howard’s Creek Christmas boogers, and there was a group over at Bethphage. We’d either get together at our house or at Lum Heavner’s house. The Heavners had nine children, and my Daddy had six. We had plenty of kids to go round. I remember one year I dressed up like a woman. I got my sister’s dress and put it over my clothes. And for our masks we took a paper sack and cut the eyes out and painted faces on them. We didn’t buy masks or nothing. There were about 12 houses right around the school house there, and when we went out, there was always an adult went with us to see that we didn’t throw no rocks or get into trouble. And we’d go down the road singing “Jingle Bells” or something and we’d get to a house and from the yard we’d start hollering, “You want to see some Christmas boogers?!” And we would holler until they opened the door and let us in. They knew we were coming because they’d helped us get dressed!

“Then we would play this game of trying to guess who we were, because we had pokes on our heads. But they knew exactly who we were. If they guessed who we was, then we had to take our mask off. And they made us sing a little bit for our candy. They’d give us a stick of peppermint candy, or an apple, or a cookie, or a handful of parched peanuts. And we didn’t do all of the houses on one night. We’d do maybe five or six, and then it was starting to get dark, and we had to get home because we had stuff to do. If you were about 10 or 11 years old, you had to milk the cow, slop hogs, stuff like that. Then the next night we’d dress up in the same thing again and go to the other houses.”

In 1162 Henry II sought to bring the English Church under strict royal control by appointing to the archbishopric of Canterbury his chancellor and good friend, Thomas Becket. But in raising Becket to the primacy, Henry had misjudged his man. As chancellor, Becket had been a devoted royal servant, but as archbishop of Canterbury he became a fervent defender of ecclesiastical independence and an implacable enemy of the king. Henry and Becket became locked in a furious quarrel over the issue of royal control of the English Church. In 1164 Henry issued a list of pro-royal provisions relating to Church-state relations known as the “Constitutions of Clarendon,” which, among other things, prohibited appeals to Rome without royal license and established a degree of royal control over the Church courts. Henry maintained that the Constitutions of Clarendon represented ancient custom; Becket regarded them as unacceptable infringements of the freedom of the Church. For eight years this struggle continued. The king threatened Becket with arrest; Becket fled to the Continent; both sides appealed to the Pope.

Becket returned to England in 1170 under an uneasy truce but the quarrels went unresolved. On Christmas Day Becket preached a sermon which included this prediction:

I have spoken to you today, dear children of God, of the martyrs of the past, asking you to remember especially our martyr of Canterbury, the blessed Archbishop Elphege [murdered in 1012 by Vikings when he refused to ask to be ransomed] ; because it is fitting, on Christ’s birthday, to remember what is that peace which he brought; and because, dear children, do not think that I shall ever preach to you again; and because it is possible that in a short time you may have yet another martyr, and that one perhaps not the last. I would have you keep in your hearts these words that I say, and think of them at another time.

Four days later, a group of Henry’s knights, acting on what they thought were his wishes, invaded the cathedral and hacked Becket to death as he was saying Mass. This dramatic atrocity made a deep impact on the age. Becket was regarded as a martyr; miracles were alleged to have occurred at his tomb, and he was quickly canonized. For the remainder of the Middle Ages, Canterbury was a major pilgrimage center, and the cult of St. Thomas enjoyed immense popularity. Henry, who had not explicitly ordered the killing but whose anger had prompted it, suffered acute embarrassment. He was obliged to do penance by walking barefoot through the streets of Canterbury and submitting to a 300-lash flogging by the Canterbury monks (who seem to have enjoyed the episode immensely).

December 28, the Feast of the Holy Innocents, commemorates the murder of the male babies of Bethlehem by King Herod. In England the day was known as Childermas (or Dyzemas) and was considered an ill-omened time; few would want, for example, to be married on that date. Not only was no business conducted on that day, but the day of the week on which it fell was deemed unlucky for the rest of the year. In Ireland it was Lá Crostna na Bliana, the “cross day of the year” when no new enterprise was begun. Many sailors would not sail on that day; on the Aran isles no one was buried on Childermas (or the day of the week on which it occurred); and in Cornwall to wash on that day was to doom one of your relatives to death.

Childermas was also a day for ritual beatings. The seventeenth-century writer Gregorie notes the custom of whipping children in the morning of that day so that Herod’s murderousness “might stick the closer; and, in a moderate proportion, to act over the crueltie again in kind.”

One of the most tedious tropes surrounding Christian art is that mocking portrayals of a blond Caucasian Jesus. This is done in ignorance the fact that every culture portrays the Holy Family in the local context. The very first Christian art saw Jesus depicted as a beardless youth resembling a Roman god; the Magi were depicted as contemporary Persians. Yesterday I used a Korean version of the Nativity and today I present other indigenous visions of that scene in Bethlehem.

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David:) to be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child.

And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn.

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. 

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.

And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.

 But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart.

The day before Christmas, known variously as the Vigil of Our Lord, Noche Buena (“The Good Night” in Spanish), Wigilia in Poland, Heilig Abend in Germany, Stedry´vecer (“Generous Evening”) in Slovakia, etc. In eastern Europe it is marked by meatless meals (Advent being a fasting period) and in other countries the occasion of heavy feasting and drinking. In Catholic lands many faithful stay up for the midnight mass and in most places children find it hard to sleep because of their anticipation of the arrival of Santa Claus or another gift-bringer. In Provence Christmas Eve is the Day of Reconciliation when one goes to neighbours to beg or offer forgivenes for wrong-doings during the past year.

 It is the most supernaturally powerful  of the Twelve Days of Christmas. Animals speak or kneel in homage to the birth of Jesus, bees sing a psalm , etc.  In Russia and France it was believed that water turned to wine at midnight while on the isle of Sark this was the time water turned to blood. It was a time for treasure to be revealed, for the Star of Bethelehem to be seen in the Well of the Magi and to remember the dead, for on Christmas Eve spirits will revisit houses where a place is left for them at the table, or a bed, or a bath.

A favourite Christmas pastime in old Quebec was telling ghost stories and one of the favourite of such tales was that of the “Chasse-Galerie”. (It’s a curious term that, derived from the original version of the story in medieval France where an aristocrat named Galerie is condemned to take part forever in the Wild Hunt.)

In the Québecois version, a group of lumberjacks is stranded deep in the woods, far from their loved ones and unable to take part in holiday festivities. In order to make it back in time for the New Year’s Eve parties they strike a deal with the devil: he will provide them with a flying canoe to take them to town and back but should they blaspheme on the trip or touch the cross on a church steeple, they will forfeit their souls.

The story is a popular one with illustrators but my favourite version is that on a 1991 Canadian stamp.

Isolated in the cold North Atlantic, Icelanders have developed many unique Christmas customs. At one time they used to shut down television broadcasting in the evening of December 24 to encourage people to go to church and spend time with their families. Another Christmas Eve custom that has continued is the Jólabókaflód.

After the legalization of Christianity in the fourth century, fierce debates broke out among theologians about the nature of Jesus. Was he god or man? Was he of the same substance as the Father or was he only of a similar substance? In his mixture of divine and human natures, which predominated? How many wills did he have? How many energies? The correct answers often depended on the whims of the imperial family and getting the answers wrong could mean deposition from your church office or exile. 

One band of losers in these very abstruse arguments were the followers of Nestorius, Patriarch of Constantinople. They migrated out of the Roman Empire into Persian territory and from there spread all across Asia, calling themselves the Church of the East, becoming for centuries the most wide-spread of Christian denominations with branches in Syria, central Asia, and India. In 625 their missionaries reached Xian, ancient capital of China and successfully evangelized there. Though the Church of the East was largely wiped out by Muslim and Mongol persecution, it still survives in small pockets and a North American diaspora.

In 1999 archaeologists uncovered a nativity scene on a wall in a crumbling temple in Xian. It seems to have been produced in the late 700s; made of wood and plaster it depicts a reclining Virgin Mary amid Chinese landscape scenery. As you can see below, it is in a ruinous state but continues to represent a once thriving Christian culture in Asia.

Prepare yourself for a trip into Crazytown. The invention of the Christmas card in 1843 and the introduction of cheap postal rates in nineteenth-century England led to a wild proliferation of designs and motifs in greeting cards. Many of these are downright wacky. They bear no relation to Christmas and certainly not Christmas joy but here are a few examples of what I mean. I can offer no explanation, only gratitude that these themes did not continue.