Reclaiming the 12 Days of Christmas
"Consumer culture is organized against history; there is a depreciation of memory, and a ridicule of hope." -Walter Brueggemann
Here in the U.S., where capitalism functions as our true religion, and communal belonging is defined almost entirely around the economic exchange of consumer goods, “the Christmas season” is usually equated with the holiday *shopping* season, which traditionally starts the day after Thanksgiving (though it seems to get earlier every year), and lasts until Christmas Eve. Most holiday-themed social gatherings and office parties get crammed into those hectic weeks leading up to the 24th, as the days are getting shorter and everyone is scrambling to prepare for big family dinners and the gift-giving rituals of Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Then suddenly, after two days of feasting and figuring out how to spend quality time with everyone on both sides of your family in the short span of 48 hours, it’s all over. You may still be exhausted, filled with cheese, and have wrapping paper and ribbons all over your floor. But as far as capitalism is concerned, once the *shopping* season is over, “the Christmas season” has come to an end. Starbucks goes back to its standard white cups. Target starts stocking its aisles with Easter candy and bathing suits. And right here, in the midst of what is still the coldest and darkest time of the year, we are supposed to pack our lights away, pull ourselves up by our bootstraps, and get back to work (and usually some form of restrictive dieting). Perhaps we might extend some extra grace to one another during the “dead week” between Christmas Day and New Years Day. But certainly by January 2nd we are expected to put all this revelry and merriment behind us.
Ironically, many of the very same people who most aggressively insist that Christianity is under attack by “secular culture” do not themselves even follow a *Christian* season of Christmas. So focused they are on trying to claim capitalism (aka power) for Christianity, they insist on saying “merry Christmas” instead of “happy holidays” throughout December’s *shopping* season, but are usually among the first to toss their trees to the curb before the start of the new year.
For those of us who do still observe a *Christian* liturgical calendar — which is to say, the seasonal calendar that follows the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ in relation to the story of Creation and the natural cycles of the earth, helping us to understand our place in the cosmos and find our footing as humans in the family of things - IT IS STILL CHRISTMAS!
In the Christian tradition, “the Christmas season” actually *begins* on Christmas Eve, and lasts for 12 merry days, until another big feast known as the Epiphany on January 6th, which is sometimes called “little Christmas” or “second Christmas” (cue Pippin: “We’ve had one, yes... but what about second Christmas?”)
As obnoxious as that old song may be, “The 12 Days of Christmas” is one of the last remaining vestiges in our culture that preserves the memory of what a true Christian Christmas actually looked like: a season when the feasting, relaxing, gift-giving, friend-visiting, caroling, almsgiving, and merriment were all supposed to keep building and building until the Twelfth Night... at which point the singer of the song would have a total of 12 leaping lords, 22 dancing ladies, 30 flute players, 36 drummers, 40 milkmaids, and 224 birds (42 swans, 42 geese, 40 gold-ringed pheasants, 36 colley birds, 30 French hens, 22 turtle doves, and 12 partridges in 12 pear trees). In other words, quite a party!
For how could we possibly contain the joy of Christ’s birth — much less discern the deeper implications of the incarnation — in a mere 48 hours? Why limit the spirit of charity and goodwill to just one day of obligatory gift-giving with our closest family and friends?
In the English commonwealth, the day after Christmas is known as Boxing Day, which has become a day for celebrating football, but was originally a reference to the alms boxes in churches that collected money to be redistributed to the poor. December 26th is the feast day of St. Stephen, one of the first deacons of the church, whose job it was to make sure that the physical needs of the poor, the elderly, and the most vulnerable in the community were being met. Boxing Day was therefore a day to gather up one’s own surpluses of food, wealth, and warmth after a day of feasting, and to give them away to people in need. The memory of this tradition is still preserved in the song “Good King Wenceslas.”
December 28th is known as the Feast of the Holy Innocents - a day of remembrance for the children of Bethlehem who were slaughtered by King Herod, a puppet king of Judea who hoped to rid the world of the Christ child because of the threat he posed to tyrants and grifters everywhere. In many parts of the world, the Feast of the Innocents is still celebrated with traditions of “misrule,” turning our instinctive narratives of power upside down by allowing children to be “kings” for the day, making decisions about meals, schedules, and other household activities. In ye olden days, poor children would go around to the houses of the rich during this time, and demand food, ale, and figgy pudding. If the master of the house refused, the children could play mischievous tricks on them (one of the origins of “tricks and treats”). The memory of this tradition is still preserved in the songs “We Wish You A Merry Christmas” and “Here We Come A-Wassailing.”
For Christians, you see, the Christmas story is more than just a single birth moment... it is a disruption of the entire cosmos! It is the whole story of what it means for God to take on human flesh. And that is a messy story: one that includes not only a messy birth in a barn, but the subsequent murder of a town full of babies, the heartache of a mother who very much did know that her son would be opposed by his own people, and the blood of the martyrs who are remembered at Christmastide — St. Stephen, Thomas Becket, and Anysia of Thessalonica — all of whom suffered death unjustly at the hands of worldly powers. The blood of the martyrs is what gives us the red of Christmas. It is an acknowledgement that joy contains the full reality of what it means to be fully human, which includes the suffering we face in the course of real life, and real agape love. Christmas is not a time for spiritual bypassing, or split-off emotions of forced happiness that require us to live in a state of denial and repression, putting on a happy face in order to maintain positive vibes at the expense of confronting reality.
The joy of Christmas is far too complex for one single day. That is why it must spill over into 12 merry days, culminating in the Feast of the Epiphany, when we celebrate the envoy of Zoroastrian astrologers who traveled all the way from Persia to visit the infant Christ. Their presence at the birth of Jesus was an acknowledgement that his life offered hope not only to the Hebrews living under Roman occupation, but for all people, for all nations, and for all time. The three gifts brought by these wise sages served as harbingers of the life he would lead: gold, symbolizing his true “kingship” over the economic and political powers of this world; frankincense, symbolizing the convergence of heaven and earth in his very body; and myrrh, symbolizing the death he would suffer as a result of taking on human flesh.
In some parts of Latin America, children still leave their shoes by the door on Epiphany Eve (along with grass for the camels!) in the hopes that the Magi will leave a few gifts for them as well. In Ireland, Epiphany is referred to as “Nollaig na mBan,” and is celebrated with another tradition of role reversal: one in which the men do all the cooking and cleaning for the day, while the women take the day off to go hang out at the pub. In many parts of the British Isles, it is still common for people to go wassailing on Epiphany Eve, or to host another big party where people come together to feast as they put away their Christmas decorations. In other words, taking down the Christmas tree on Epiphany was originally a party in its own right, not a tedious and depressing household chore that must be performed alone before getting back to work.
In fact, medieval tradition held that while January 6th marked the end of Christmastide, it was just the beginning of winter festivities. The period of time between Epiphany and Lent was known as Carnival, which continued celebrations of merriment that lasted into February, culminating in one big final party on Mardi Gras. In many places, it is still customary to leave evergreen decorations up in one’s house through Candlemas on February 1st. These ongoing festivities were meant to help those of us living in the northern hemisphere (which is approximately 90% of the human population) maintain a spirit of hope throughout the winter season, until the “first kicks” of spring at Imbolc.
So how did we lose these 12 days of Christmas? As you might have suspected, it had mostly to do with the Puritans, those killjoys. Christmas was deemed to be “popish",” and was actually outlawed in Boston from 1659 to 1681. Anyone found to be exhibiting the Christmas spirit could be fined 5 shillings. For much of the 18th century, Christmas fell out of fashion primarily because it was associated with British culture and the Anglican church. Renewed interest “old world” traditions during the 19th century led to the capitalist reimagining of Christmas we experience today, but it is one where the old Puritan influences can still be felt, especially when we consider our self-improvement resolutions for the new year.
Christmas in the Middle Ages, however, was meant to be a time of deep rest. It was a time when only the most necessary chores were done; a time when warmth, charity, and human connection were prioritized; a time when people devoted extra time to prayer and religious practice in order to stay connected to the light during those long, cold, lonely nights of winter.
Whether or not you consider yourself a “Christian” (but especially if you do!) I invite you to lean into the 12 days of Christmas this year. Let your house stay messy. Keep your decorations up. Let those sparkling lights continue to glow into the long dark nights of January. Gather up your extra non-perishable food, gently-used clothing, and other goodies, and donate them. Take some time to sit with a good book, or work on a handmade craft. Make amends with an old friend. Go out of your way to connect with someone you see regularly but have never spoken to. Host a game night with friends and neighbors. Give out packets of hand-warmers to those standing on street corners. Go caroling at a hospital or an Alzheimer’s facility. Think up mischievous ways to disrupt people’s assumptions about power. Laugh deeply from the very depths of your soul.
Do at least one random thing between now and January 6th that restores your faith in humanity and makes you feel truly, outrageously happy. Model the hope you wish to see in the world, and show the people around you glimpses of the Basileia of God.
And even if you can’t do any of that, at least give yourself 12 days of grace this year.
For wisdom has come embodied into the world. Material existence has been deemed beloved. We are not alone. God is on the side of the poor and the suffering. Tyrants, narcissists, and grifters will not get the final say. The arc of the universe is long, but it bends towards justice. This is the true meaning of Christmas.
And I think that’s worth taking a little bit of extra time to celebrate, don’t you?
For those who want to extend the holiday spirit into the new year, here is a Christmastide playlist that offers 10 hours of medieval carols, choral hymns, and instrumental versions of Christmas songs that still make sense to listen to after December 25th. Enjoy and share freely!