I've been sick for the last couple of days but my headache has now diminshed enough that it doesn't hurt to read:
I am absolutely a sun worshipper though so I would be leaning in that direction--if there were any sunlight to lean toward.
I've got your "reason for the season" right here, pal.
Just outside the window, to be exact: Sunlight.
No secret there. Civilizations all over the northern hemisphere
have been making merry toward the end of December for thousands of
years, with most of the celebrations linked somehow to the "return" of
the sun --- the longer periods of daylight that begin on the Winter
Solstice December 21.
Which is why the triumphant, even defiant slogan "Jesus is the reason for the season" -- seen this time of year on buttons, T-shirts and bumper stickers and heard from those who grouse that secular society is at war with Christmas--- is so irritating.
A cynic with more energy than I have ought to create "Marduk is the reason for the season" banners in honor of the beloved Zagmuk story.
Some 4,000 years ago in ancient Mesopotamia, Marduk was the patron diety of the city of Babylon. Marduk was said
to have conquered the monster of chaos, Tiamat, and thus paved the way
for creation. But, every year, alas, the monster fought back, the
fields went barren, the days got shorter and life itself hung in the
balance.
The 12-day, late December Zagmuk throw down, then, was replete with
rituals believed to help Marduk win his annual battle with Tiamat, and
then to celebrate the return of light.
Ancient Romans celebrated Saturnalia during roughly the same calendar
window, while the Perisans observed the festival of Sacaea. History
does not record whether peevish Mesopotamians, perceiving a dilution of
their seasonal tradition, began a campaign to "put Marduk back into
Zagmuk."
But even by then, the season belonged to many cultures and was viewed as a magical, mysterious and portentous time.
Quite a coincidence that Jesus Christ was born at a time when folks all over were already partying, eh?
Well, probably not.
Scholars don't even agree on the year Jesus
was born, much less the month or day. Given the reported presence of
shepherds watching their flocks by night, the best guess is sometime in
the late spring or early fall.
If you have lots of time on your hands,
Google the phrase "When was Jesus born?" and start poking around the
13,000 Web sites where exegetes and skeptics alike parse the text and
history books for answers. (see below for samples)
The question didn't seem to concern early Christians all that much. It
wasn't until 350 A.D. that Pope Julius I of Rome, fixed the date for
the Feast of the Nativity on December 25.
It looked like a cynical choice designed to co-opt the wanton hoo-haw
already raging at that time of year, and not an educated estimate.
Early American Puritans were among the Christians who felt the choice
amounted to unseemly piggy-backing: "It was in compliance with the
pagan Saturnalia that Christmas Holy Days were first invented," sniffed
Puritan pastor and Harvard president Increase Mather in 1687,
explaining why those in his denomination scorned the observance.
But, hey. Whatever the source of his calculations, Pope Julius got it
right. Christmas is not the holiest day on the Christian calendar ---
that would be Easter -- but it's become by far the biggest.
The reason? Sunlight.
Sunlight is also, coincidentally, said to be the best disinfectant ---
here a disinfectant to kill the toxic notion that any one faith "owns"
this season of renewal, hope, joy, generosity and the victory over
darkness.
"Seasons greetings" and "happy holidays" take nothing from the
Christians who also chose this time of year to celebrate the birth of
their divine source of renewal, hope, joy, generosity and victory. He
is their reason for the season, not the reason.
These generic expressions are not banalities that trivialize the festivities.
They are invitations to all to join in. Invitations to find and revel
in your own reasons to be glad for the trappings and trimmings of this
time of year and the promise that lies ahead.