Once more we have come to the end of a year. Soon the sun will reach its nadir on the horizon of the northern hemisphere and we will once again begin the journey back to summer and fishing season. In earlier times, people could contemplate their future and wonder how many fishing seasons they had left in their life, meaning of course how much longer they had to live. Today I wonder which will end first, my life or the return of the fish.

The season that we are celebrating now has deep roots in the history and culture of our species. One often hears the phrase “put Christ back into Christmas” as if Christmas is a creation of the Christian faith. Perhaps the name is, but the holiday goes back much farther than Christianity. The season that we celebrate is that of the Winter Solstice, the point where the days once again become progressively longer and another annual cycle of life on the planet begins — a celebration that is found across many ancient cultures.

The ancient Egyptians decorated their homes with palm fronds on the shortest day of the year and celebrated for 12 days. Similar traditions were found in the Middle East and in Asia. The Scandinavians have given us Yule logs and Christmas trees from their ancient celebrations. Evergreens were seen by them as a promise of the return of Spring.

In Celtic culture, holly and mistletoe were significant, symbolizing fertility. In ancient Rome the celebration was called Saturnalia, and from the Pagan Romans we get the decorating of trees with lights and ornaments. Even some Christmas carols have their roots in Pagan rituals rather than in the Christian Church, and Santa Claus’ history traces back to the pre-Christian times of Northern Europe. Christ, however, was more than likely not born in December.

So, perhaps a better question is “who put Christ in the Solstice?” It happened in the Fourth Century when the Roman Emperor Constantine, the first Christian emperor, declared Christmas an immoveable feast to be celebrated on December 25. Christianity was spreading throughout the Roman world, and alternative religions and beliefs were, as always, a problem for the priests. People were reluctant to give up their party time, so the Church began co-opting Pagan festivals and customs and reassigning them Christian meaning. The Christmas Tree, for example, was proclaimed, because of its triangular shape, to symbolize the Holy Trinity. The Solstice festival, the celebration of the birth of the sun, was changed to celebrate the birth of the Son.

Christians, like other radicals, often have a hard time agreeing on the finer points with one another — witness the Reformation and a few more sordid episodes in Church history — so the acceptance of Christmas celebrations was not universal throughout the Church. The Protestant regime of Oliver Cromwell in England actually banned Christmas celebrations, and Christmas as we know it today did not begin to really take shape until the 19th Century. Of course, one could argue that the Christmas that we know in this new century did not really take shape until the advent of mass marketing and the mindless production for witless consumption of the last half of the last century.

In any event, whether you are celebrating the Son or the Sun, or just out to have a good time, this is still the season of hope and joy, and love. These are three things that we could use a lot more of in this world, and whose season ought to be extended.

This is also the season for reflections, and resolutions. I am not sure what to resolve as we enter the New Year, but in reflecting on the old one a few things come to mind. First off there is the privilege of being Canadian, a member of a society that has built one of the most livable and decent countries in the world. Just recently, and once again, I had to admire a leader that I did not vote for when the Prime Minister said that we would not send troops to Iraq. Our refusal to join in the atrocities committed by the United States there should be a point of pride for all Canadians.

Secondly, there is the village of Gold River and the people of the North Island which is where I’m lucky enough to live. One could not live in a more wonderful community, although oftentimes many of us do not really appreciate the full extent of what we have here.

Perhaps you feel the same about the community where you live. Wherever that is, I hope you have something to celebrate in this season of the Winter Solstice.