Explainer
Christmas culture
Creed
4 min read

Why Christmas Day is Christmas Day 

The seasons, festivals, historians and emperors have all influenced the date of Christmas.

Ryan Gilfeather explores social issues through the lens of philosophy, theology, and history. He is a Research Associate at the Joseph Centre for Dignified Work.

a had holds out a small wrapped Christmas present.

I came of age in the 2000s, a decade quite alien to us now. We saw ourselves as pioneers of technology, as the internet emerged in its prehistoric form. There was great optimism about the economy until it all went wrong in 2008. The New Atheism movement was roaring into public view, only to wane just as quickly the decade after. Growing up as a Christian, I remember spirited debates with my peers about whether science disproved Christianity and if God can be disproven. These questions have fallen out of view, just as many of its main proponents have too. Richard Dawkins rarely darkens the door of our TV screens anymore.  

However, one such moment of conflict sticks out in my mind. A friend announced to me that he had disproved the origins of Christianity. The night before he had discovered that in the third century Roman Empire, before Christianity became legal and the official religion, there was already a festival celebrating a god on the 25th of December. Instead of the birth of the Son of God, the Romans celebrated the rebirth of the Unconquered Sun — Sol Invictus. Then, in 336 under the first Christian Emperor, Constantine, that date was first celebrated as the day of the birth of Christ. My friend considered the case to be closed; surely the birth of Christ was merely a repurposing of an existing festival?  

Thankfully this shocking revelation did not pick away at the foundations of my faith. I continued, and still continue, to believe in and love the Christian God, as revealed in the Bible. Indeed, since that moment I have trained as a scholar in the history of the early Church, and have begun to see this question for what it is, a quirk of history.  

We, therefore, celebrate Christ’s birth on the 25th December on account of a quirk of history, a result of the way that Romans mapped significant events on to the waxing and waning of the light. 

The first claim that Christ was born on the 25th December appears in the third century. Sextus Julius Africanus, a Roman Christian historian, wrote an entire chronology of the world from creation to AD 221. He considered March 25th to be the date of creation, because it was the spring equinox in the Roman Calendar, a day which represents new life and new birth. For this reason, he likewise considered it to be the date of Christ’s conception in the womb. Crucially, nine months after that falls December 25th. Although I admire his logic, it is hardly a sound basis for establishing the date of our Lord’s birth. Indeed, other Christians didn’t accept this claim at the time either. 

As already mentioned, December 25th was a significant date in the Roman calendar already. It was the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year, after which the days begin to lengthen. It also shortly followed the popular Roman festival of the Saturnalia. Already endowed with significance, it is unsurprising that the Romans began to celebrate the rebirth of Sol Invictus, and the birth of another god, Mithras, on that date.  

At this time Christianity was an illegal religion, persecuted in some parts of the Roman Empire. However, in 312, the emperor Constantine converts to Christianity and in 313 makes it a legally tolerated religion. At this point he begins to invest the church and Christians with powers, wealth and privileges. Evidence from the Chronography of AD 354 suggests that Christmas was first celebrated on the 25th December in 336, during the reign of Constantine. Perhaps this was an attempt to dislodge existing pagan holidays, and replace it with a Christian one. Or, maybe the significance of the Winter solstice made that date most plausible. Indeed, it is easy to see how the commemoration of Christ coming into the world is particularly salient as the darkness begins to recede. The true answer is, of course, lost to history.  

We, therefore, celebrate Christ’s birth on the 25th December on account of a quirk of history, a result of the way that Romans mapped significant events on to the waxing and waning of the light. The true lesson here though, is that it simply doesn’t matter what the actual date of Christ’s birth was. Our records, and those available in the early church were simply not good enough for us to ever know. What matters is that God loves us so much, that he became human to bring us back to his side in everlasting joy and peace. We have no idea on what date Christ was born. But, each year the 25th December presents a time for us to remember that God became man, so that we might have everlasting life.  

Article
Creed
Romance
Wildness
4 min read

St Valentine and the great mystery of romance

Saints were martyrs for more than love.
A cupid statue fires an arrow of love.
Volodymyr Tokar on Unsplash.

Valentine’s Day is the great Western celebration of ‘romance’. On the day restaurants are filled with couples – new and nervously trying to be constantly adoring in their gaze, or longstanding, staring out of the window, comfortable in the silence which can only truly be inhabited by those who really know each other. On this day garage flowers become a precious commodity. It is undoubtedly kitsch and forced and performative…but most great and important festivals are. 

But who’s day is this?  

Valentine, or Valentinus, was a third century martyr. Some legends claim that his faith was put to the test by a local judge, who brought his blind daughter before Valentine, and demanded he heal her. He did. The judge and his entire household renounced pagan idols and were baptised. This scandalous incident, and further bothersome evangelism, led to the Emperor Claudius commanding that Valentine be executed. Another legend claims him as a Roman priest who defied imperial orders and secretly married Roman soldiers in the Christian rite, allowing the soldiers to escape further conscription. I assume it is this latter legend which led to Valentine being adopted as the patron saint of heart-shaped chocolates – that and the mediaeval folklore that the birds would couple in mid-February. Whatever the case, I’m not interested in the legends of Valentine, entertaining as they are. It doesn’t matter to me if he married couples in secret, or healed the blind, or was an early avian dating app. He is a martyr.  

Martyrdom is not a concept we are much familiar with in this country anymore. Yes, it is still a word in common parlance. We call people a ‘real martyr’ when they punish themselves doing work no is expecting or wanting them to do. We call someone a ‘martyr for the cause’ when they glue themselves to a set of railings, or get arrested vandalising a painting with soup. This isn’t martyrdom. True martyrdom is an act of romantic desire. True martyrdom is an act of love! 

One of the earliest accounts of Christian martyrdom come from St Ignatius, the Bishop of Antioch. At some point in the middle of the second century he was condemned to death and was transported to Rome under guard. As he travelled, he wrote letters to different Christian communities, including one to the Church in Rome. The account of martyrdom in this letter is both astoundingly beautiful, and the key to understanding martyrdom. He is writing, in part, to beg the Christians of Rome not to try and save him from his fate, either by violence of bribery.  

He wishes his martyrdom and explains why. He writes that in this suffering he is “…beginning to be a disciple.” He compares his unfortunate situation to ‘birth pains’ now coming upon him and then makes a remarkable claim: he is not about to die, but is about to truly live!  

“Grant this to me brothers: do not keep me from living; do not wish me to die…Allow me to receive the pure light; when I have arrived there, I will be a human.” 

It has been suggested by some who can only see the dreadful, painful, grabby nature of martyrdom – and it is a blessing we live in an age and a land where we do not kill each other on account of our faith – that Ignatius was either a showman or a madman. I disagree. Ignatius does not want to be martyred because he wants to make a name for himself, but because he understands that in martyrdom he is becoming a type of the one true martyr: Jesus Christ. Perhaps he was mad…madly in love with Christ! He desired to be united with Christ, he desired to be as close to Jesus Christ as possible: “I desire the bread of God, which is the flesh of Jesus Christ…and for drink I desire his blood, which is imperishable love.” He desired Jesus above all other goods, even his own life. 

In our little way, when we embark upon the great mystery of ‘romance’ we are seeking to be martyrs ourselves – martyrs for the one we love. 

Martyrdom, seen in this manner, is a truly ‘romantic’ act – an act of the one who is so desirous of, so truly, madly, deeply in love with Jesus, that they will give everything for Jesus’ sake. Martyrs show us the real pattern of love: the sacrifice, of ourselves for the sake of another. This is the lesson Jesus taught his disciples: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” In the life and death of the martyr we see this real love made manifest, and it is not unrequited but is entirely reciprocated. Jesus desires us and dies for us, and the martyr desires Jesus and dies for him. As Ignatius writes to the Romans: “Desire it, that you may also be desired.” 

This is the lesson that every couple, as they grow in their life and their love together, slowly learn. If we seek romance and love, we seek not to change, or control, or extract pleasure from the other person as an object; we seek to give ourselves to them freely and completely, in the joy of service and sacrifice. In our little way, when we embark upon the great mystery of ‘romance’ we are seeking to be martyrs ourselves – martyrs for the one we love.  

St Valentine was a man of genuine love, for he was a martyr. There is no greater reason to be a patron of passion, of matters of the heart, of romantic love. 

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