“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 has 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.” (Luke 2: 15-16)
Lebrun, Adoration of the Shepherds
The artistic portrayal of the visit of the shepherds to the baby Jesus was at first depicted as a visitation by two or three shepherds with simple gifts such as a lamb. The number of shepherds increased in later medieval art and the scene was often conflated with the Annunciation to the Shepherds or the Adoration of the Magi. In Le Brun’s 1690 Adoration of the Shepherds the host of angels filling the air above the Virgin contrasts with the earth-bound shepherds who crawl toward the centre of the canvas. The piety and simplicity of the shepherds made the scene a favourite subject for centuries — other artists who have painted the scene include Rembrandt, Bassano and El Greco whose Adoration was his last work, meant to hang over his tomb.
El Greco, Adoration of the Shepherds
The incident is also the subject of carols, movies and television specials.
“And when they were come into the house, they saw the young child with Mary his mother, and fell down and worshipped him: and when they had opened their treasures, they presented unto him gifts; gold, and frankincense and myrrh.” (Matthew 2:11.)
Catacomb of Priscilla Magi c. 250 A.D.
Among the earliest examples of Christmas art are depictions of the Adoration of the Magi which appear in Roman catacombs and on sarcophagi of the pre-Constantinian period. It is interesting to note that at a time when the number of Magi was still unfixed, these appear as a trio — almost identical (unlike later representations in which they differed in age and race), dressed as Persians with Phrygian bonnets and pantaloons. In these early depictions, all pre-dating the establishment of Christmas celebrations in Rome, Mary and the baby Jesus are depicted in unsentimental ways — seated on a chair or throne as if receiving a diplomatic mission. The Magi process toward them bearing gifts, often on plates, with gold always the first to be offered. The presence of these representations on funereal art has been attributed to the notion of the dead, who are sometimes featured in their togas in the Magian procession, linking themselves to the Wise Men and seeking salvation at the hands of Jesus in return for the gifts they have brought.
In the fifth-century Roman church of Santa Maria Maggiore where the pope celebrates a mass every Christmas Day, the Magi are depicted both standing before Herod and offering gifts to the baby who is seated on a throne. In the sixth-century mosaics of the church of Sant’Apollinare in Ravenna we begin to see the three Magi as distinct in dress and age.
Ravenna mosaic c 550 A.D.
In Renaissance art the Adoration of the Magi and the Adoration of the Shepherds are often merged into one scene.
The parodies of “Twas the Night Before Christmas” are numberless. Here is one from 1909 which tells us a good deal about the primitive state of car ownership over a century ago.
SANTA CLAUS – 1909 MODEL
‘Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the streets Not a copper was stirring. Asleep on their beats. They dreamed of the footpads that might have been there. Red-ribboned for Christmas, marked “Handle with Care.” Our garage was locked; every window and door Fast bolted and chained; on the level dirt floor Stood our 1910 model, the car of the hour Catalogued 40-horse – really 10-candle power.
The chauffeur had taken off stockings and shoes, (‘T was really a clever professional ruse,) The stockings were his – so his feet wouldn’t jar,- But the shoes he’d removed from the 1910 car. Now, the chauffeur was honest – for honesty pays, But it doesn’t pay much in these motoring days, So the story he tells we may praise or may blame, The essential result of the case is the same.
He says just at midnight he heard such a chatter He ran to the door to see what was the matter, And there stood a car, almost covered with ice He looked at the driver, and then in a trice He saw ‘t was St. Nicholas, think Girls and boys! The tonneau was crowded with toys upon toys. St. Nick! Nick himself! and his fat little belly Would have shook -if he’d laughed like traditional jelly. But the Saint said: “My man, you can help me, no doubt. For my spark-plug is bent and my muffler cut out: One cylinder’s dead, and the others are weak; Planetary transmission makes one fearful shriek; There’s something gone wrong with the oiler, I fear This ice has congealed all my new running gear.”
Now, the chauffeur was kind, and a friend of the boys And the girls who delight in St. Nicholas’ toys; So he hurried at once to my new model car, Stripped off chain, oil-cups, batteries, plug, clutch, and bar, All the movable parts, to the finest of wires, And the pride of my heart, my detachable tires. St. Nicholas sat with a smile on his face, And watched my chauffeur, as with speed, case, and grace He repaired, changed, and tinkered, connected and tested, And worked like a Trojan – he never once rested Until the Saint’s car was in perfect repair. Ah! Would that St. Nicholas hadn’t been there And lastly be cranked; then he stood, flushed with pride, As the old benefactor, mirth shaking his side, Retarded his spark, took a nip from a bottle He pulled from his pocket, pushed over the throttle. The car started slowly, it picked up, it flew, And off went St. Nick my accessories, too.
The chauffeur stood watching, he saw the car pass, Heard the roaring exhaust, smelled the scent of the gas, Heard the good old man say, as he sped out of sight: “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!” Well, my chauffeur is honest, for honesty pays, So I can’t blame the fellow and yet I can’t praise, I suppose it is true but next year I shall be In the garage myself, so that maybe I’ll see, And I’ll have my new rifle and shot-gun. I swear There’ll be no merry Christmas for Nick if he’s there!
The Christmas tree was introduced to Russia by the reforming Tsar Peter the Great (r. 1682-1725), a fan of all things Western and the husband of a German princess who would have been familiar with the custom. Though it often featured at the Russian court during the 1700s it was not in widespread use until the mid-19th century as its popularity spread from the imperial family and nobility to the upper middle class. A glimpse of this can be seen in Fyodor Dostoevsky’s 1848 short story “A Christmas Tree and a Wedding” where the children “strip the Christmas tree to the last sweetmeat in the twinkling of an eye.”
During World War I Christmas trees were banned by the Orthodox Holy Synod as being “too German” and after the Revolution, Lenin’s Bolsheviks kept the tree ban in place as part of their drive against religion and Christmas in particular. In 1935 Pavel Postyshev, a member of the Politburo, proposed that Russian children be given a new festival. Stalin agreed, so Ded Moroz and the trees were rehabilitated in 1937. Many of the accoutrements of Christmas – feasting, presents, a magical Gift-Bringer, and a decorated conifer – were now to be associated with New Year’s.
Though Christmas and other Orthodox holidays were restored after the fall of the USSR, Russian families still regard December 31/January 1 as their major holiday and the traditional tree as a New Year ornament.
Ded Moroz or Grandfather Frost, is a figure from Russian folklore, originally a menacing personification of winter and then, by the late 19th century thanks to his portrayal in stories and plays, a Christmas Gift-Bringer to rival St Nicholas. In the early Soviet period he was seen as a remnant of superstition, an enemy of the people, and “an ally of the priest and kulak”. This 1928 illustration sees him being driven away.
However, in the mid-1930s Stalin ordained festivities centred on New Year’s rather than Christmas and Ded Moroz was resurrected to bring presents to the children of the USSR. He was to be accompanied by Snegurochka, the legendary Snow Maiden now said to be the grand-daughter of Grandfather Frost, and New Year Boy. Following the Communist occupation of eastern Europe after World War II, Ded Moroz was imposed on the satellite states as a suitably secular replacement for St Nicholas, angels, or the Christ Child. When Soviet hegemony evaporated in the 1990s, countries like Poland, Hungary, and Czechoslovakia were quick to dispense with the services of Ded Moroz and return to the traditional Christmas Gift-Bringers.
Ded Moroz or his local equivalent remain popular in Russia, Belarus, and some other areas of the former USSR. Though he manifests many of the traits of Santa, the mayor of Moscow has boasted: “Look at our huge, beautiful Ded. You can’t compare him to that puny Santa Claus!” He is portrayed as a majestic figure, an elderly man with a white beard, round hat, a lavish blue robe, and carrying a staff. He travels in a horse-drawn troika and is said to reside in a wooden palace in the northern Russian town of Veliky Ustyug where the Russian postal service delivers all letters from children addressed to him. At New Year’s Eve, his magical travels are tracked by the Russian satellite navigation system.
Though only about 30% of the population professes Christianity, Christmas is a national holiday in South Korea. Seasonal customs are a unique blend of local, Japanese, and American traditions. As in Japan, which had treated Korea as a colony for the first half of the 20th century, Christmas is viewed by many as a time for romance and for couples to spend time together. (K-Pop Christmas music focuses on affairs of the heart rather than the sacred).
Few houses Korean display Christmas lights, but urban stores and streets are colourfully festooned during December, while Christmas trees are gaining popularity in homes. Christmas cards, largely winter-themed rather than religious, are a good way to keep in touch with family and friends.
Gift-giving is not as lavish as in many other parts of the world and largely confined to close family members, but children have gladly adopted the belief in Santa Claus or Santa Grandfather. The Gift-Bringer is sometimes clothed in the red and white familiar to Americans but often he appears as a white-bearded Korean elder of an earlier era in the traditional flat-topped hat. Korean Christmas cake is much more like the North American birthday-style confection which was adopted in Japan. Other favourite seasonal foods include Korean barbecue,
Korean Christians will celebrate with caroling and church services; Midnight Mass at Seoul’s neo-Gothic Myeongdong Cathedral is one of the best attended.
In North Korea, religion is banned and celebrating Christmas could bring harsh penalties
Since the fourteenth century (with rare exceptions during times of war or foreign occupation) Finns have made a Declaration of Christmas Peace. The most well-known proclamation takes place at noon every Christmas Eve in the Old Great Square of Turku, the country’s former capital, but there are similar declarations in other Finnish towns. It is broadcast on radio, television, and the internet.
The ceremony opens with band music and a sing-along which concludes with Martin Luther’s hymn “A Mighty Fortress is Our God”. This is followed by the Declaration of Christmas Peace read in the Finnish and Swedish languages from a parchment roll:
“Tomorrow, God willing, is the graceful celebration of the birth of our Lord and Saviour; and thus is declared a peaceful Christmas time to all, by advising devotion and to behave otherwise quietly and peacefully, because he who breaks this peace and violates the peace of Christmas by any illegal or improper behaviour shall under aggravating circumstances be guilty and punished according to what the law and statutes prescribe for each and every offence separately. Finally, a joyous Christmas feast is wished to all inhabitants of the city.”
Some “researcher” with “data” at his disposal (https://caitlinhudon.com/2017/12/22/blue-christmas/) has decided that according to his occult calculations, the most depressing Christmas lyrics belong to (brace yourself): “Blue Christmas” by Elvis Presley, and “The First Noël” and “O Little Town of Bethlehem” by Bing Crosby. Such a display of gross ignorance causes one to wonder whether the computer was a good idea, after all.
Without pausing for breath I can recite a hundred sadder songs than those three, but the scholarly brain turns at once to this gem. “Christmas Shoes” will give listeners instant diabetes, so chock full of syrup of melancholia it is. It reached the top of the music charts in 2000 and spawned a novelization and a movie. Read it and weep.
Christmas Shoes
It was almost Christmas time, there I stood in another line Tryin’ to buy that last gift or two, not really in the Christmas mood Standing right in front of me was a little boy waiting anxiously Pacing ’round like little boys do, And in his hands he held a pair of shoes His clothes were worn and old, he was dirty from head to toe And when it came his time to pay I couldn’t believe what I heard him say.
“Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my mama, please. It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size. Could you hurry, sir, daddy says there’s not much time, You see she’s been sick for quite a while And I know these shoes would make her smile. And I want her to look beautiful if mama meets Jesus tonight.”
He counted pennies for what seemed like years Then the cashier said, “Son, there’s not enough here.” He searched his pockets frantically Then he turned and he looked at me. He said “Mama made Christmas good at our house, Though most years she just did without. Tell me Sir, what am I going to do, Somehow I’ve got to buy her these Christmas shoes.”
So I laid the money down, I just had to help him out And I’ll never forget the look on his face when he said:
“Mama’s gonna look so great Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my mama, please It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Could you hurry, sir, daddy says there’s not much time You see she’s been sick for quite a while And I know these shoes would make her smile And I want her to look beautiful if mama meets Jesus tonight.”
I knew I’d caught a glimpse of heaven’s love As he thanked me and ran out I knew that God had sent that little boy To remind me just what Christmas is all about.
“Sir, I want to buy these shoes for my mama, please It’s Christmas Eve and these shoes are just her size Could you hurry, sir, daddy says there’s not much time You see she’s been sick for quite a while And I know these shoes would make her smile And I want her to look beautiful if mama meets Jesus tonight
I want ‘er to look beautiful if mama meets Jesus tonight.”
Christmas in Cyprus is a mixture of Orthodox and Greek traditions with the addition of more recent, globalized customs.
A forty-day fast leading up to December 25 is kept less frequently now than in the past; pre-Christmas practices still observed involve house cleaning, buying new clothes, and baking seasonal treats such as kourapiedes (iced almond biscuits), melomakarona (honey-glazed orange and cinnamon cookies) and koulouria bread. Householders reward young door-to-door carol singers with a little gift of money or edible treats.
Christmas Day is given over to attending Mass, eating lemon and rice soup, and feasting friends and relatives who come to call. Foods served include souvlaki, turkey and stuffed vine leaves as well as traditional pork dishes. Gift-opening is usually reserved for New Year’s. The Cypriot Gift-Bringer is St Basil whose feast day is January 1 but nowadays he is not portrayed as an Orthodox bishop but as a red-clothed, white-bearded Santa Claus figure.
New Year’s Eve is the time to bake the Vasilopitta, a cake flavoured with orange and mastic. It is left out for St Basil to bless as he visits the home to deliver his gifts. Inside the cake is a coin and he who finds will be lucky throughout the coming year.
On the eve of Epiphany (January 6) the kallikantzaroi, pesky demons who plague folk during the days following Christmas, are driven away by throwing food on the roof and by a ritual priestly cleansing of the home. The following day sees ceremonies connected with water, in honour of Christ’s baptism in the Jordan – a priest throws a cross into the sea and men dive in to retrieve it.
