By: Jim Taylor

Out of the darkness


Today is the winter solstice. All around the world, religions have given this day – the shortest day of the year—special significance.

        Even societies with limited numeric abilities could determine this day. At the solstice approached, the noon shadow cast by a pole, a spire, or a peak grew steadily longer. And then it started growing shorter again.

        And once they had identified the solstice, they could build monuments to help mark the cusp of the year.

        In Britain, an ancient civilization built Stonehenge, oriented towards the sunset.

        Across the Irish Sea, another civilization looked to the sunrise instead. They built a tunnel deep into the heart of an artificial hill. At Newgrange, priests huddled inside the cavern, waiting for the first morning light penetrate the length of the tunnel into their inner sanctum.

        In Central America, Mayan priests used elaborate geometry to coordinate three overlapping calendars.



Mythical significance

Almost without exception, civilizations have attached mythical overtones to the winter solstice.

        In the high Andes, Inca priests attached an imaginary rope to a hitching post, to anchor the sun before it could slip any lower in the sky. The Incas built houses and temples out of cut and shaped stone. But the hitching post was carved from solid bedrock – the only thing strong enough to hold the sun in place.

        In Persia, the longest night marked the peak of strength for the evil god Ahriman. The next day, the good god, Ahura Mazda, the Lord of Wisdom, began winning the battle of good and evil again.

        The Slavic peoples took their belief further. They believed that at the solstice the god Hors was actually killed by the forces of darkness. The next day, Hors was resurrected. Some Bulgarians still perform a chain-dance called a horo or khoro.

        In Scandinavia, where winter nights are particularly long, the Norse lit a Yule log. As long as it gave warmth and light, for anywhere from three to twelve days, they feasted.



Midwinter hope

 It’s probably no coincidence that our society celebrates Christmas around the same time of year – whether or not Jesus was really born on December 25.

        “Much of our custom developed in the northern regions of Europe where Christmas Day fell during the darkest part of the year,” my friend Ralph Milton wrote in his weekly e-newsletter Rumors (write ralphmilton@woodlake.com=”#000000”> to subscribe).

        I liked his thoughts so much, I’m paying him the ultimate compliment of a writer – I’m using his words instead of my own.

        “Christmas comes when things have gotten about as bad as they can be. Darkness rules. The specter of starvation lurks in every corner.

        “Into this desolation and darkness a baby is born. A helpless infant who cannot survive an hour without warmth – without a mother’s breast, a father’s arms.

        “The child is born just as the days begin to get longer. There is hope again. Spring will come.”

        Perhaps every religion finds its own way to symbolize the return of hope in the midst of darkness.

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Copyright © 2007 by Jim Taylor. Non-profit use in congregations and study groups permitted; all other rights reserved.
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