Links, Apologetics/Defense, References, & News & Opinions concerning my faith journey as a Catholic.
"In the process of salvation by co-operating with
grace through faith
in Jesus Christ, as
sustained by the sacraments
and by works of love, because faith without works is dead."
"In the process of salvation by co-operating with grace through faith in Jesus Christ, as sustained
"In the process of salvation by co-operating with grace through faith in Jesus Christ, as sustained by the sacraments and by works of love, because faith without works is dead."
Epiphany, La Befana, and the Faith I Had to Find for Myself
I did not grow up immersed in Italian Catholic tradition. Not really.
My parents divorced when I was young. My father was Catholic. My mother was Lutheran. I lived with my mom, so most Sundays were spent in her Lutheran church. It was sincere and reverent, but stripped down. No saints. No feast days. No sense of the liturgical year as a living cycle. Christmas and Easter were there, of course, but everything else felt flat and interchangeable.
Catholicism entered my life only in fragments. Weekend visits with my father. Time at my grandparents’ house. Occasional Mass at his parish. Even that faded when my father stepped away from the Church for a while. Whatever Italian Catholic inheritance I had was not handed to me whole. It came in pieces, and then it mostly stopped coming at all.
That is the context in which I now approach the Feast of the Epiphany and the tradition of La Befana. Not with nostalgia for a childhood I never had, but with a deliberate desire to reclaim something that slipped through the cracks.
Discovering Epiphany as an Adult
In the Lutheran world I grew up in, Epiphany existed mostly as a word. It might show up in the church calendar, but it did not shape how we lived. There were no customs attached to it. No sense that Christmas was still unfolding.
Catholicism sees things differently. The Feast of the Epiphany celebrates Christ revealed to the nations through the visit of the Magi. It is not a quiet wrap-up. It is a declaration. The child born in Bethlehem is not only for Israel, and not only for the devout or the prepared. He is for outsiders, travelers, seekers.
Learning this as an adult Catholic changed how I understood the season. Christmas does not end in a single day. It moves outward, like ripples. Epiphany is where that movement becomes explicit.
For someone who grew up between traditions, never fully rooted in either, that message matters. The Magi were not insiders. They came late. They came from far away. And they were still welcomed.
Meeting La Befana Later Than Most
I did not grow up hearing about La Befana. No stories. No candies left behind. No Epiphany Eve rituals.
I encountered her later, while trying to understand Italian Catholic culture beyond stereotypes. At first, she sounded almost silly. An old woman on a broomstick delivering gifts did not seem especially theological.
Then I learned the story behind her.
According to tradition, the Magi asked an old woman for help finding the Christ Child. She refused to go with them. Later, filled with regret, she set out to find Him herself, carrying gifts. She never finds Jesus, so she gives gifts to children instead, hoping one of them might be Him.
Seen through a Catholic lens, La Befana is not a distraction from the Gospel. She is a commentary on it. She represents repentance, missed chances, and the stubborn hope that love can still make amends.
That story resonates deeply with someone who came to Catholicism slowly, unevenly, and with long gaps. It speaks to the fear of having missed something essential, and the faith that the search still matters.
It is worth addressing the claim, often repeated online, that La Befana is pagan or even “evil.” That accusation says more about modern suspicion than about history or theology. La Befana developed within a Catholic culture that understood how to teach through story. She is not worshipped, invoked, or treated as a spiritual power. She is a folk figure attached to a Gospel event, much like medieval mystery plays or saint legends. The Church has long distinguished between superstition and symbolic storytelling, and La Befana clearly belongs to the latter. Her broomstick is not a sign of witchcraft but of humility and domestic life. Her journey is not magic but repentance in motion. Far from undermining the faith, the tradition reinforces a core Catholic truth: even when we hesitate, even when we miss Christ the first time, grace still invites us to go looking.
Another common claim is that La Befana is simply the Roman goddess Strenia in disguise, a pagan figure renamed and smuggled into Christian culture. From a Catholic perspective, this argument misunderstands how history and popular devotion actually work. Similarities in timing or symbolism do not equal identity. The Church did not baptize pagan gods by renaming them; it replaced them. Where pagan festivals once marked abstract forces like fortune or the new year, Epiphany centers on a concrete historical event: the revelation of Christ to the nations. La Befana is not treated as divine, does not receive worship, and has no cult, temples, or prayers. She functions as a moral figure within a Christian story, shaped by the Gospel, not as a survival of Roman religion. At most, older cultural imagery was repurposed and emptied of its former meaning, something Christianity has done throughout history without compromising the faith. What remains in La Befana is not paganism, but a thoroughly Christian message about repentance, humility, and the persistent search for Christ.
Growing Up Without Saints
My mother’s Lutheran church was thoughtful and Scripture-centered, but saints were absent. Their feast days were absent too. The faith I learned there emphasized belief, but not memory. There was little sense that Christians across centuries and cultures had lived the same faith in richly different ways.
Catholicism, by contrast, remembers everything. Saints, feast days, seasons, customs. Italian Catholicism does this with particular intensity. Faith spills into food, stories, local legends, and household rituals.
Because I did not grow up with that, I had to choose it later. That choice feels more conscious, and sometimes more fragile. I am not continuing a seamless tradition. I am rebuilding one.
Reclaiming What Was Interrupted
Reclaiming Epiphany and La Befana now is not about pretending my upbringing was something it was not. It is about honoring the part of my heritage that was interrupted by divorce, distance, and time.
It looks simple. Leaving Christmas decorations up until January 6. Reading the Gospel of the Magi slowly. Learning the stories my grandparents likely knew without thinking about them. Letting Catholic time shape my year, instead of letting the secular calendar rush me along.
These practices do not erase my past. They integrate it.
As an Italian American Catholic who did not grow up fully Catholic, Epiphany feels especially fitting. It celebrates a God who reveals Himself to those who arrive late, from far away, carrying questions instead of certainty.
La Befana reminds me that regret does not have to end in paralysis. It can become movement. Searching. Giving.
In reclaiming these traditions, I am not going backward. I am finally stepping into something that was always waiting for me.
Mother of God & the Christian Meaning of New Year’s Day
Every year, January 1 rolls around with a mix of fireworks, champagne, and cheers. For many, it’s a day of parties and resolutions. But for Catholics, it’s much more than a secular calendar flip. It’s the Solemnity of Mary, the Holy Mother of God—one of the most theologically rich and historically rooted feast days in the Church.
This article explores both the civil New Year and the Christian feast that shares the date. We’ll unpack their origins, address the criticisms about "paganism," and explain why Catholics are not only justified in observing this day but spiritually enriched by it.
1. The Theological and Historical Roots of the Solemnity
On January 1, the Catholic Church celebrates the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God, a feast with deep Christological roots. The Church honors Mary not simply as the mother of Jesus the man, but as the Mother of God (Theotokos), because the child she bore is one divine person with both a human and divine nature.
This title was dogmatically affirmed at the Council of Ephesus in 431 A.D.:
“If anyone will not confess that the Emmanuel is very God, and that therefore the Holy Virgin is the Mother of God (Theotokos)... let him be anathema.”
This teaching wasn’t about elevating Mary in isolation, but about safeguarding the truth of the Incarnation. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church (CCC 509) puts it:
"Mary is truly 'Mother of God' since she is the mother of the eternal Son of God made man, who is God himself."
Historically, January 1 is the Octave Day of Christmas. The Church often places major theological feasts eight days after a solemnity. In this case, the day also originally commemorated the Circumcision of Jesus, an event that signified His entrance into the covenant of Israel (cf. Luke 2:21).
In 1974, Pope Paul VI reaffirmed the Marian focus of the day in his apostolic exhortation Marialis Cultus:
“[This celebration] is meant to commemorate the part played by Mary in this mystery of salvation... and to exalt the singular dignity which this mystery brings to the ‘holy Mother’ through whom we were found worthy to receive the Author of life.”
2. The Origins of January 1 as New Year’s Day
Long before Christians marked January 1 as a feast day, the Romans celebrated it as the Kalends of January, a day dedicated to the god Janus—the two-faced deity of beginnings and transitions. In 46 B.C., Julius Caesar reformed the Roman calendar and established January 1 as the start of the civil year under what became known as the Julian calendar.
Centuries later, as the Julian calendar was replaced with the more accurate Gregorian calendar under Pope Gregory XIII in 1582, January 1 was preserved as New Year’s Day in much of Western Europe. Its adoption was based on civil practicality, not religious ideology.
It is important to understand that the Catholic Church does not teach that January 1 has pagan origins in any theological sense. Celebrating a new year is a natural human expression of time, change, and renewal. Just because pagans celebrated the new year and Christians also mark it does not mean Christians copied or adopted paganism. It's simply a coincidence rooted in the universal human impulse to recognize the passage of time and the beginning of something new.
Likewise, the date of December 25 for Christmas is often wrongly labeled as pagan. In truth, the Church Fathers calculated Jesus' conception based on a traditional date for his crucifixion (believed to be March 25), then counted nine months forward. This places His birth in late December. As the Church has clarified repeatedly, the date was chosen based on theological reasoning, not to align with pagan festivals.
3. Is New Year’s Pagan or Even Evil?
Critics, especially from fundamentalist Christian circles, argue that participating in New Year’s Eve celebrations is inherently pagan or even evil. They cite its origins in Roman religion and point to modern customs like drinking and partying as evidence of its corruption.
One commentator warns:
“The idea that the beginning of the year should be celebrated at the beginning of January is pagan through and through!”
Others argue that such festivities promote immorality and distract from God. Some go as far as to say:
"God condemns the celebration of any pagan festival — that includes New Year’s."
But these claims ignore an essential truth: the Church has always redeemed cultural elements and given them Christian meaning.
4. Christians Are Not Under the Old Covenant Calendar
This point is crucial and often ignored: Christians are not bound by the Old Covenant ritual calendar in the way ancient Israel was.
The earliest Church faced this question head-on: Must Gentile converts keep the Mosaic Law—circumcision, feast days, sabbaths—to be real Christians? The answer, delivered by the apostles themselves at the Council of Jerusalem (Acts 15), was no.
St. Paul addresses calendar observance directly:
“Let no one pass judgment on you in questions of food and drink or with regard to a festival or a new moon or a sabbath.” (Colossians 2:16)
And again:
“One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Let everyone be fully convinced in his own mind.” (Romans 14:5)
The Letter to the Hebrews frames this at the covenantal level:
“By speaking of a new covenant, he has made the first one obsolete.” (Hebrews 8:13)
This does not mean the Old Testament is rejected. It means it is fulfilled. As the Catechism explains, the Old Law was a preparation for Christ—holy, inspired, but no longer binding as a legal covenant once the New Covenant is established.
Early Church Fathers agree
St. Ignatius of Antioch (early 2nd century) warned Christians:
“If we still live according to the Jewish law, we acknowledge that we have not received grace.”
Justin Martyr explicitly lists sabbaths and feast-days as no longer obligatory for Christians under the New Covenant.
Church councils echoed this teaching. The Council of Laodicea instructed Christians not to “judaize” by treating the Mosaic sabbath as a covenant obligation, instead honoring the Lord’s Day, the day of Resurrection.
Vatican teaching today
Vatican II affirms that the Church received the Old Testament through the Jewish people and rejects all anti-Judaism. At the same time, Catholic theology is clear: Christians live under the New Covenant in Christ, not the ritual obligations of Sinai.
This is why arguments like “God commanded a different calendar, so January 1 is disobedience” simply fail. Christians are free—indeed commanded—to sanctify time in Christ.
5. Did the Pope “Change God’s Times”? Daniel 7:25, the Antichrist Claim, and the Gregorian Calendar
Some critics cite Daniel 7:25 (“think to change times and law”) to argue that any calendar reform proves the pope is the Antichrist, even claiming Pope Gregory XIII “changed God’s times” by introducing the Gregorian calendar in 1582. Historically and textually, that’s a category mistake. In Daniel, the phrase is tied to an oppressive blasphemous ruler who persecutes God’s people; many mainstream historians and biblical scholars locate Daniel’s “little horn” imagery in the Antiochus IV crisis and the coercive attempt to suppress Jewish religious life—i.e., interference with sacred observance, not a scientific correction of the solar year. Journal of Hebrew Scriptures+2Jewish Encyclopedia+2
By contrast, Gregory’s reform (the bull Inter gravissimas, Feb. 24, 1582) explicitly aimed to restore the calendar’s alignment with the seasons and the Church’s paschal calculations: the Julian calendar had drifted, pulling the equinox earlier and disrupting the intended timing for Easter; the reform therefore skipped ten dates (Oct. 4 → Oct. 15, 1582) and adjusted leap-year rules to prevent future drift. Wikipedia+2Encyclopedia Virginia+2
Even Encyclopaedia Britannica notes the reaction proves more about polemics than prophecy: “many Protestants saw it as the work of Antichrist and refused to adopt it,” which is a report of historical suspicion—not evidence that Daniel’s prophecy was fulfilled in a calendar fix. Encyclopedia Britannica
In short: Daniel 7:25 is about a tyrannical power “speaking against” God and crushing the holy ones, whereas the Gregorian reform was an astronomical/chronological correction adopted gradually by civil authorities across confessions; calling that “the Antichrist changing God’s times” is neither how Daniel is handled in serious scholarship nor what the 1582 reform actually was.
6. Catholic Defense of Celebrating New Year’s
The Church does not deny the pagan roots of January 1—just as it acknowledges the same for other dates like December 25. But Christianity doesn't exist in a vacuum. It has always engaged with culture, purifying what is good and rejecting what is contrary to Christ.
January 1 is now sanctified by the Church as a liturgical feast. Its focus is not on arbitrary celebrations, but on Mary and, through her, Christ.
Pope Paul VI stated:
“This celebration [on January 1] is meant also to exalt the singular dignity which this mystery brings to the 'holy Mother' through whom we were found worthy to receive the Author of life.”
Moreover, Catholics are encouraged to mark the day with Mass, prayer for peace, and thanksgiving for the year past. The secular celebration, when kept in moderation, can coexist with the spiritual significance of the day.
The Church does caution against:
Drunkenness and excess (cf. Galatians 5:19–21)
Superstition or occult practices (cf. Deuteronomy 18:10–12)
But it also encourages sanctifying time:
"Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (Psalm 90:12)
7. How Christians Can Enter the New Year Faithfully
Rather than rejecting January 1, Christians are invited to reclaim it:
Attend the Solemnity of Mary, Mother of God Mass
Reflect on the past year with gratitude and contrition
Offer prayers for peace and guidance in the new year
Make resolutions grounded in discipleship, not self-improvement hype
The calendar may change, but our call remains the same: to love God with heart, soul, mind, and strength (cf. Mark 12:30).
Final Thought
January 1 is not just a new beginning on the calendar. For Catholics, it’s an opportunity to begin the year with Christ, through Mary. It is not pagan to mark time; it is human. And it is profoundly Christian to redeem time by dedicating it to God.
So yes, raise a toast if you like—but start with the Mass. Light a firework if you must—but pray for the light of Christ to guide your year.
Let the world party. Let the Church pray. And let Mary, Mother of God, intercede for us as we step into another year of grace.
The Feast of the Holy Innocents: History, Theology, and the Question of Historicity
Each year on December 28, the Catholic Church commemorates the Feast of the Holy Innocents. It is a quiet, somber day tucked into the joy of Christmas, and that placement is deliberate. The Church asks us to remember that the Incarnation did not enter a neutral world, but a violent one. In recent years, claims have circulated that this feast is “pagan,” borrowed from pre-Christian customs, or that the event it commemorates never happened at all. Both claims collapse under even modest historical scrutiny.
Date and Liturgical Place
The Feast of the Holy Innocents is observed on December 28 in the Roman Rite. The dating is not arbitrary. It follows the Feast of St. Stephen on December 26 and St. John the Apostle on December 27, forming what medieval liturgy called the Comites Christi—the Companions of Christ. Stephen died by martyrdom of will and blood, John by will alone, and the Innocents by blood but not by conscious will (Martimort, 1986).
This structure is distinctly Christian and theological, not seasonal or agricultural. There is no evidence of a pagan festival on December 28 that could plausibly account for the feast’s origin.
Biblical and Historical Origin
The feast commemorates the massacre of male children in Bethlehem ordered by King Herod the Great, as recorded in Matthew 2:16–18. Matthew situates the event within Herod’s well-attested pattern of paranoia and brutality. Outside the New Testament, Herod is described by the Jewish historian Josephus as capable of murdering his own sons, his wife Mariamne, and numerous perceived rivals (Josephus, Antiquities 15–17).
The argument that the massacre “did not happen” usually rests on the fact that Josephus does not explicitly mention it. This objection misunderstands both ancient historiography and the scale of the event. Bethlehem was a small village. Modern estimates suggest the number of children killed may have been in the dozens, not hundreds or thousands (Brown, 1993). Josephus routinely omits minor local atrocities unless they affected elite politics or large populations. The absence of mention is not evidence of absence.
Raymond E. Brown, one of the most respected New Testament scholars of the twentieth century, concluded that while Matthew’s account is the only direct source, it is “fully consistent with what we know of Herod’s character” and cannot be dismissed as legend simply because it lacks external corroboration (Brown, 1993).
Early Christian Witness
The Feast of the Holy Innocents is ancient. By the late fourth and early fifth centuries, it was widely celebrated in both East and West. St. Augustine preached sermons on the Holy Innocents, calling them “flowers of the martyrs” (Sermon 373). Prudentius, a fourth-century Christian poet, references their martyrdom in his Cathemerinon. These sources predate the Christianization of Europe’s pagan populations and cannot plausibly be explained as syncretism.
No early Christian writer treats the massacre as symbolic or mythological. It is consistently understood as a real event with theological meaning, not a metaphor invented for liturgical drama.
Theology of the Holy Innocents
Theologically, the Holy Innocents occupy a unique place. They are venerated as martyrs, not because they consciously professed Christ, but because they died for Christ. This distinction matters. The Church has long recognized martyrdom as rooted in the objective cause of death, not solely in subjective awareness (Catechism of the Catholic Church, §2473).
Their feast underscores a central Christian claim: salvation history involves real suffering, especially the suffering of the powerless. The Incarnation provokes opposition. Christ’s kingship threatens worldly power from the moment of His birth.
The Holy Innocents also raise difficult questions about grace, baptism, and salvation. Historically, theologians like Augustine and Aquinas addressed these questions seriously, never dismissing the children as narrative devices. Their deaths were understood as mysterious but meaningful within God’s providence, not as expendable details.
The Claim of Pagan Origins
The claim that the Feast of the Holy Innocents is pagan usually appears without primary sources. It often gestures vaguely at Roman festivals or child-related rites, but no direct parallels exist. Roman religion did not commemorate the mass killing of children as virtuous victims. Nor did it celebrate innocent suffering as redemptive.
By contrast, the Christian interpretation of innocent suffering is distinct and even offensive to pagan sensibilities. As Candida Moss notes, early Christianity redefined martyrdom in ways that sharply diverged from Greco-Roman ideals of honor and heroism (Moss, 2013). The veneration of powerless victims was not inherited from paganism. It contradicted it.
Conclusion
The Feast of the Holy Innocents is not pagan in origin, not mythological in intent, and not ahistorical by scholarly standards. It arises from a specific Gospel account, coheres with what we know of Herodian violence, and is attested early and consistently in Christian tradition. Its theology is sober, uncomfortable, and unmistakably Christian.
That discomfort may explain why modern readers are tempted to dismiss the feast altogether. But the Church has never flinched from remembering that the coming of Christ into the world was met with real bloodshed. The Holy Innocents stand as a reminder that Christmas is not sentiment. It is invasion.
References
Augustine. Sermons.
Brown, R. E. (1993). The Birth of the Messiah. Doubleday.
Catechism of the Catholic Church. (1992).
Josephus. Antiquities of the Jews.
Martimort, A. G. (1986). The Church at Prayer. Liturgical Press.
Moss, C. (2013). The Myth of Persecution. HarperOne.
The Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph
Date, historical development, theological meaning, and a response to claims of pagan origin
Introduction
Within the liturgical cycle of the Roman Catholic Church, the Feast of the Holy Family of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph occupies a distinctive place. Celebrated during the Christmas season, the feast directs attention to the domestic life into which the Son of God freely entered through the Incarnation. Far from being a marginal or sentimental observance, it reflects sustained biblical reflection, theological development, and pastoral concern for the Christian understanding of marriage and family.
Occasionally, the feast is dismissed as a late, “pagan” innovation. Such claims collapse under historical and theological scrutiny. This article examines the feast’s date, origins, theological foundations, and addresses those accusations directly.
Date and liturgical placement
In the Roman Rite, the Feast of the Holy Family is observed:
On the Sunday within the Octave of Christmas (December 26–January 1), or
On December 30 when Christmas itself falls on a Sunday and no intervening Sunday exists.
This placement is deliberate. The Church situates reflection on the family immediately within the mystery of the Incarnation. The child celebrated at Christmas is not an abstraction; he belongs to a household, lives under parental authority, and grows within ordinary human relationships (cf. Luke 2:39–52).
Historical development of the feast
Devotion to the Holy Family did not emerge in the early centuries as a formal liturgical celebration. Instead, it developed gradually as Christian meditation on the Gospels deepened.
Private and communal devotion to the Holy Family gained prominence in the early modern period, particularly in seventeenth-century France and Canada. This growth coincided with renewed attention to domestic spirituality and the moral formation of Christian households.
In the late nineteenth century, Pope Leo XIII strongly encouraged devotion to the Holy Family, especially in response to social and economic conditions that were destabilizing marriage and family life (cf. Neminem fugit, 1892). The feast itself was extended to the universal Church by Pope Benedict XV in 1921.
Subsequent liturgical reforms placed the feast within the Christmas season, reinforcing its Christological focus and grounding it firmly in the mystery of the Incarnation.
Scriptural foundations
The Feast of the Holy Family rests on explicit biblical testimony. The Gospels do not present Jesus solely in public ministry but also emphasize his hidden life within a family.
Key scriptural texts include:
Matthew 1–2, portraying Joseph’s role as legal father and protector
The flight into Egypt (Matthew 2:13–15), revealing a family marked by vulnerability and exile
The finding in the Temple (Luke 2:41–50), where Jesus’ divine sonship is affirmed without negating parental authority
Luke 2:51–52, which states plainly that Jesus “was obedient to them” and grew in wisdom and grace
These passages establish that family life is not incidental to salvation history but integral to it.
Theological significance
1. The concreteness of the Incarnation
Theologically, the feast underscores that the Incarnation is not merely metaphysical but historical and social. The Son of God assumed not only human nature but a human context. As the Catechism of the Catholic Church states, Jesus’ hidden life “allows everyone to enter into fellowship with him by the most ordinary events of daily life” (CCC §533).
2. The family as a locus of sanctification
The Holy Family reveals that holiness ordinarily unfolds within routine responsibilities. Mary and Joseph’s sanctity is expressed through fidelity, trust, labor, and sacrifice rather than public miracles. This affirms the family as a primary place where grace is received, lived, and transmitted.
3. Ordered love and authority
The family at Nazareth embodies an ordered relationship between love and authority. Joseph exercises real paternal authority in obedience to God; Mary models faithful assent amid partial understanding; Jesus submits freely to parental authority while remaining obedient to the Father. This balance resists both authoritarian distortion and modern reductions of authority to mere preference.
Addressing claims of pagan origin
Alleged roots in fertility or household cults
No historical evidence supports the claim that the Feast of the Holy Family derives from pagan fertility rites or domestic cults. The feast arises explicitly within Christian devotional and liturgical history, many centuries after pagan religious practices had ceased to shape public worship in Christian Europe.
Comparisons with pagan triads
Some argue that honoring Jesus, Mary, and Joseph mirrors pagan triadic deities. This is a categorical error. Catholic theology does not treat the Holy Family as a divine triad. Worship (latria) is given to God alone, while Mary and Joseph receive veneration (dulia). Superficial numerical similarity does not constitute theological or historical continuity.
Claims of winter solstice adaptation
The feast’s timing is governed by the Christmas octave, not by the winter solstice. Its prayers, readings, and theology are entirely Christological and biblical, with no agricultural, cosmic, or seasonal symbolism characteristic of pagan observances.
In short, accusations of pagan origin rely on analogy rather than evidence and misunderstand both Catholic liturgy and history.
Conclusion
The Feast of the Holy Family is a theologically rich and historically grounded celebration. It proclaims that God chose to dwell not only among humanity but within a family. By doing so, the Incarnation sanctifies ordinary domestic life and elevates the family as a central site of Christian discipleship.
Rather than being a borrowed or syncretistic observance, the feast emerges organically from Scripture, tradition, and the Church’s pastoral response to the enduring realities of human life. In honoring the Holy Family, the Church affirms that salvation unfolds not apart from daily life, but within it.
Selected references
Catechism of the Catholic Church, §§531–534
Sacred Scripture: Matthew 1–2; Luke 2:22–52
Leo XIII, Neminem fugit (1892)
Congregation for Divine Worship, General Roman Calendar
"Christianity Is a Relationship, Not a Religion” — No. Just No.
I’m going to be blunt: I’m done pretending this phrase deserves respect.
“Christianity is a relationship, not a religion” is not a profound insight. It is not biblical wisdom. It is not theological depth. It is a cheap slogan, endlessly repeated, rarely examined, and almost always weaponized against Catholicism.
It’s tired. It’s misleading. And at this point, it’s intellectually embarrassing.
Let’s start with the obvious fact that somehow keeps getting ignored: Belief in God is, by definition, religion.
You can stomp your feet, insist otherwise, and slap the word relationship on it all you want—but if you pray, read Scripture, gather for worship, sing hymns, celebrate ordinances or sacraments, submit to leaders, and teach doctrine, congratulations: you are practicing religion.
And no, renaming it doesn’t make it disappear.
What Evangelicals Really Mean by “Religion”
Let’s stop playing games.
When many Evangelicals say “religion,” what they actually mean is Catholicism.
By “religion,” they mean:
Authority
Structure
Hierarchy
Rules
Rituals
Tradition
History
In other words: the Catholic Church.
So they contrast it with their preferred slogan: “Just Jesus and the Bible.”
But here’s the problem: that is still religion.
A religion with:
Its own rules
Its own hierarchy (pastors, elders, boards, megachurch celebrities)
Its own rituals (altar calls, communion, baptism)
Its own traditions (Bible-onlyism, once-saved-always-saved, rapture theology)
You didn’t escape religion.
You just traded historic Christianity for a modern, DIY version of it.
As Protestant historian Alister McGrath bluntly states:
“Christianity is irreducibly a religion. Attempts to portray it otherwise are historically indefensible.”
A Slogan Designed to Recruit the Rebellious
The real purpose of the phrase “relationship, not a religion” is not theological—it’s psychological and marketing-driven.
It’s aimed squarely at:
Young people
The anti-authority
The rule-averse
Those suspicious of institutions
It tells them what they want to hear:
No rules
No structure
No accountability
No history
No Church
Just “me, Jesus, and my Bible.”
That sounds liberating—until you realize it’s completely foreign to Christianity as it actually existed.
The First Christians Never Had This Option
Here’s the part that destroys the slogan entirely.
The early Christians had no concept of “relationship vs. religion.”
They lived in:
Organized communities
Under apostolic authority
With bishops, presbyters, and deacons
Practicing structured worship
Scripture itself says so:
“They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, to the breaking of the bread and the prayers.”
— Acts 2:42
Time once again for my annual “Christmas is NOT pagan” post.
I really shouldn’t have to write this every year. And yet, like clockwork, the same tired claim resurfaces—recycled through social media, comment sections, YouTube videos, and anti-Catholic blogs—that Christmas is somehow a baptized pagan holiday. This lie persists not because of evidence, but because of a toxic mix of historical ignorance, intellectual laziness, and—let’s be honest—good old-fashioned anti-Catholic hostility.
What makes it worse is that this nonsense doesn’t just come from secular skeptics or fringe fundamentalists. Even some Catholics will shrug and say, “Well, maybe Christmas had pagan roots, but it’s about Christ now.” To be absolutely clear: even if that were true, it would not bother me in the slightest. Christianity has always transformed cultures, redirected symbols, and conquered paganism by proclaiming Christ through time, art, and human tradition. Turning what was once pagan into something holy is not a scandal—it is the very story of Christian history.
But here’s the problem: that isn’t what happened with Christmas.
And that’s why this claim is so frustrating. We live in an age where ignorance is no longer an excuse. With the internet, smartphones, search engines, digital libraries, and now AI, anyone can access real historical sources in seconds. You can read the Church Fathers. You can examine ancient calendars. You can follow the biblical chronology. You can verify dates, documents, and primary sources.
And yet the myth persists—repeated confidently, shared endlessly, and believed uncritically.
So once again, here I am, doing my yearly act of apologetic public service:
Christmas is not pagan. It never was.
If you prefer videos over reading (an unfortunate reality for many today), I’ll embed and link to several Catholic apologists who have produced excellent, well-researched content on this subject. But for those willing to engage with actual history, primary sources, and reasoned argument, here is the written case—again.
Let’s deal with the facts.
The True Origins of Christmas and Its Customs: History, Myths, and Misconceptions
Over time, Christmas has become one of the most celebrated holidays in the world, marked by caroling, feasting, gift-giving, greenery, and the December 25th celebration of Christ’s birth. Modern critics frequently assert that these customs are pagan in origin, hoping to discredit the feast itself. But serious historical inquiry exposes this claim as shallow and misleading. When examined honestly, these traditions arise not from pagan religion, but from biblical chronology, early Christian theology, and the Church’s effort to proclaim the Incarnation through time, culture, and creation.
The Historical Evidence for December 25 as the Nativity of Christ
The claim that December 25 was chosen to “Christianize” pagan festivals such as Saturnalia or Sol Invictus collapses under historical scrutiny. The dating of Christ’s Nativity to December 25 emerges from early Christian biblical reasoning and chronology—not from pagan accommodation.
Biblical Chronology and the Annunciation
The starting point for early Christian calculations was not pagan festivals, but the Gospel of Luke.
Luke tells us that the angel Gabriel appeared to the Virgin Mary six months after Elizabeth conceived John the Baptist (Luke 1:26, 36). Early Christians sought to determine when John was conceived by working backward from Zechariah’s priestly service in the Temple (Luke 1:5–23), which followed a known rotation of priestly divisions (cf. 1 Chronicles 24).
Based on this Temple calendar, early Christian scholars concluded that:
John the Baptist was conceived in late September
Elizabeth was six months pregnant in late March
Therefore, the Annunciation to Mary occurred around March 25
Once the Annunciation was fixed at March 25, the Nativity followed naturally:
Nine months later → December 25
This was not symbolic guesswork—it was an attempt to align Scripture, Jewish liturgical calendars, and historical memory.
Theological Reasoning: Conception and Redemption
Early Christians also believed that the great acts of salvation occurred on the same calendar dates. A widely held Jewish-Christian tradition taught that prophets died on the same date they were conceived.
Thus, Christ was believed to have been:
Conceived on March 25 (Annunciation)
Crucified on March 25
Born nine months later on December 25
Saint Augustine articulates this tradition clearly, stating that Christ was conceived and died on the same day of the year, making December 25 the logical date of His birth.
This theological symmetry reflects Jewish concepts of divine order, not pagan mythology.
Early Historical Witnesses
The December 25 date appears very early in Christian sources:
Saint Hippolytus of Rome (c. 205 A.D.), in his Commentary on Daniel, explicitly states:
“For the first advent of our Lord in the flesh, when he was born in Bethlehem, eight days before the Kalends of January [December 25]…”
This predates the Roman cult of Sol Invictus (established in 274 A.D.) by nearly seventy years.
The Chronography of 354, an official Roman Christian calendar, states:
VIII kal. Ian. natus Christus in Betleem Iudeae
(“December 25, Christ was born in Bethlehem of Judea.”)
Saint John Chrysostom (386 A.D.) refers to December 25 as an established tradition and claims Roman census records supported it.
These witnesses show continuity—not innovation or pagan borrowing.
Sol Invictus & Saturnalia
One of the most persistent modern myths is that Christmas was superimposed on pagan festivals such as Sol Invictus or Saturnalia. However, this argument collapses under scrutiny:
Sol Invictus, Christ as Light, and the Question of “Christianized Paganism”
Claims that Christian feasts in late December are “pagan” usually rest on an assumed relationship between Christianity and the Roman cult of Sol Invictus (“the Unconquered Sun”). A careful examination of early Christian sources, however, shows that the relationship is neither simple borrowing nor covert continuity. Instead, it reflects deliberate theological contrast and reinterpretation grounded in Scripture.
Christ as Light in Scripture and early Christianity
Long before Christianity encountered the imperial cult of Sol Invictus, light imagery was already central to Christian theology. The New Testament repeatedly presents Christ as the light that overcomes darkness. The Prologue of John’s Gospel declares that “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5), while Jesus explicitly identifies himself as “the light of the world” (John 8:12). The imagery draws directly from Jewish prophetic tradition, especially Malachi 4:2, which speaks of the coming “sun of righteousness.”
Early Christians therefore did not need pagan solar religion to justify light symbolism. It was inherited from Scripture and interpreted christologically. By the second century, this imagery was already embedded in preaching, catechesis, and baptismal theology.
Pagan accusations and Christian responses
Ironically, it was pagans who sometimes accused Christians of being sun-worshipers. Tertullian, writing around A.D. 197, acknowledges that outsiders believed Christians worshipped the sun because they prayed facing east and gathered on Sunday. He responds by rejecting sun worship outright while explaining that Christian practices were easily misunderstood in a culture saturated with solar symbolism (Apologeticum 16).
This is an important point. Tertullian does not say Christians adopted solar worship. He says pagans mistakenly thought they had.
Later Christian writers continue this pattern of distinction rather than assimilation. Augustine of Hippo, preaching to congregations where solar cults were still known, explicitly warns Christians not to confuse Christ with the physical sun. In multiple sermons associated with the Christmas season, Augustine insists that Christians worship not the visible sun in the sky but the Creator who made it. Christ is light not by nature of creation, but as eternal Word (Sermon 190; Sermon 191).
Sol Invictus and December 25
The Roman cult of Sol Invictus was elevated to imperial prominence under Emperor Aurelian in A.D. 274, when a major temple to Sol was dedicated in Rome. Aurelian’s promotion of Sol appears to have been politically motivated, aimed at unifying the empire under a single divine patron.
The famous association of Sol Invictus with December 25 comes from later evidence. The Chronography of 354, a Roman calendar compilation, includes a civil entry on December 25 reading Natalis Invicti (“Birthday of the Unconquered One”), commonly associated with Sol. The same compilation also preserves a Christian list noting December 25 as the birth of Christ in Bethlehem.
What this evidence shows is coexistence, not clear causation. We do not possess any ancient source stating that Christians chose December 25 in order to replace Sol Invictus, nor any source stating that Sol’s feast was deliberately set to counter Christian worship. Scholars continue to debate the direction of influence.
Importantly, some early Christian chronologies appear to arrive at December 25 independently of pagan festivals, based on theological calculations linking Christ’s conception and death to the same calendar date. This “integral age” theory appears in later Latin Christianity and suggests that the date was derived internally rather than borrowed.
Reinterpretation, not syncretism
Even if one grants that Christians were aware of solar celebrations on or near December 25, the theological move they make is not syncretistic. They do not identify Christ with the sun. They explicitly distinguish him from it.
Christian preaching consistently presents Christ as:
the true light, not a created luminary
the victor over darkness, not a cosmic force bound to seasonal cycles
the creator of the sun, not its personification
This is not the absorption of pagan religion but its critique and displacement. Light imagery is retained because it is powerful and intelligible, but its meaning is radically transformed.
Conclusion
Early Christians did not secretly preserve sun worship under Christian language. They lived in a world where solar symbolism was unavoidable and responded by reclaiming light as a theological category centered on Christ. Pagan observers noticed the overlap and drew mistaken conclusions; Christian writers responded by clarifying the difference.
The relationship between Sol Invictus and Christian celebration is therefore best described not as borrowing, but as deliberate reorientation. Christ is proclaimed as the unconquered light not because the sun rises again each year, but because death itself has been defeated.
A related claim often made alongside references to Sol Invictus is that Christmas developed from Saturnalia, the well-known Roman festival held in December. This assertion relies almost entirely on proximity in the calendar and fails to account for both historical chronology and the radically different character of the celebrations involved.
What Saturnalia actually was
Saturnalia was a Roman festival honoring the god Saturn. It began on December 17 and, by the late Republic and early Empire, expanded into a multi-day celebration that typically concluded by December 23. There is no ancient evidence that Saturnalia extended to December 25 or that it marked a birth or solar event on that date.
Ancient sources such as Seneca, Macrobius, and Lucian describe Saturnalia as a period of social inversion and excess. Normal hierarchies were temporarily overturned, public gambling was permitted, gift-giving often took on a satirical or obligatory tone, and heavy drinking, feasting, and disorder were common. Slaves were symbolically “freed” for the duration of the festival, not as a moral statement, but as a ritualized release valve within Roman society.
In short, Saturnalia functioned as a socially sanctioned suspension of norms.
How early Christians celebrated Christmas
Early Christian celebration of the Nativity could not be more different in form or meaning.
The earliest evidence we have for Christmas observance emphasizes:
liturgy, not public revelry
fasting and prayer preceding the feast
Scripture readings focused on the Incarnation
almsgiving, not social inversion
moral restraint, not license
Even when Christmas later developed into a broader cultural celebration, its core remained sacramental and theological. The birth of Christ was proclaimed as an act of divine humility, not a cosmic excuse for excess.
To equate Saturnalia and Christmas because both involved gatherings or gifts is to flatten fundamentally different moral worlds.
A question of dates and intent
This brings us to a straightforward historical question, one that critics of Christianity rarely answer.
If Church authorities truly intended to co-opt, replace, or rename Saturnalia in order to placate pagans or ease conversion, why would they choose a different date?
Saturnalia ended by December 23. Christmas, as it emerges in Roman Christian sources, is associated with December 25. No ancient Christian author suggests moving Saturnalia, extending it, or baptizing it under a new name. There is likewise no evidence of bishops encouraging Christians to continue Saturnalian practices under a Christian label.
From a purely pragmatic standpoint, co-opting Saturnalia would have been easier if Christians had simply absorbed it wholesale. Instead, the Church marks Christ’s birth after Saturnalia has concluded, with a distinct theological focus and a different ritual structure.
This choice only makes sense if Christmas was not conceived as a rebranding exercise at all.
Conclusion
The attempt to derive Christmas from Saturnalia depends on superficial parallels and ignores chronology, practice, and intent. Saturnalia was a festival of inversion and excess, tied to a specific Roman deity and a fixed mid-December window. Christmas, as celebrated by early Christians, centered on worship, restraint, and the proclamation of the Incarnation.
The difference in dates is not incidental. It is evidence.
Rather than borrowing Saturnalia, early Christians appear to have deliberately differentiated themselves from it, both in how they marked time and in what they believed was worth celebrating.
Christmas Customs: Their Christian Origins and Misinterpreted Links to Paganism
1. The Christmas Tree
The tradition of the Christmas tree has a rich history that predates Christianity. Evergreen plants were used by various cultures to celebrate the winter solstice, symbolizing life and renewal during the darkest days of the year.
The Theory of Babylonian Paganism and the Christmas Tree
A popular claim, often found in fringe circles, suggests that the Christmas tree is rooted in Babylonian paganism and condemned in the Bible. Critics often cite Jeremiah 10:1-5, where the prophet denounces the practice of cutting down a tree, decorating it with silver and gold, and worshiping it as an idol:
“For the customs of the peoples are vanity: a tree from the forest is cut down and worked with an axe by the hands of a craftsman. They decorate it with silver and gold; they fasten it with hammer and nails so that it cannot move.”
At first glance, this may seem like a condemnation of modern Christmas trees. However, this interpretation is flawed. Jeremiah is describing the crafting of idols—carving wooden statues to be worshiped, a common pagan practice in his time. There is no connection between this ancient idolatry and the Christmas tree, which developed thousands of years later as a Christian custom in medieval Europe.
The Christmas tree was never an object of worship but a symbol of Christ’s eternal life, brought into homes to honor the Nativity. The accusation of Babylonian influence is a misreading of both Scripture and history.
The Truth
However, the modern Christmas tree tradition took shape in Germany during the 16th century, when devout Christians began bringing decorated evergreens into their homes—an idea often associated with Martin Luther, who is said to have added candles to a tree after being inspired by stars shining through winter branches.
Yet this custom had much older medieval roots. One major source was the “Paradise plays” performed on December 24, the Feast of Adam and Eve, where an evergreen adorned with apples symbolized the biblical Tree of Life. As these plays faded, families began setting up “Paradise trees” in their homes as devotional symbols. Older Germanic winter customs that honored evergreens as signs of life also contributed to the practice, later Christianized as symbols of Christ’s eternal life. By the 1500s—especially in Alsace and along the Rhine—these traditions merged into the familiar Christmas tree: an evergreen brought indoors and decorated first with fruit and wafers, and eventually with candles and lights.
An interesting legend involves Saint Boniface, a Catholic missionary in the 8th century. According to this story, Saint Boniface came across a group of pagans worshipping an oak tree. To demonstrate the power of Christianity, he cut down the oak tree, and in its place, a fir tree grew. Saint Boniface used the triangular shape of the fir tree to explain the Holy Trinity (Father, Son, and Holy Spirit) and its evergreen nature to symbolize eternal life in Christ. This legend illustrates how the Christmas tree tradition was integrated into Christian practices, blending pagan customs with Christian symbolism.
It is also critical to address the misconception that the Christmas tree is an idol. As Christians, we do not worship the Christmas tree, nor do we consider it a god or divine in any way. The tree is not an object of praise, prayer, or miracles. If it were an idol, we would not unceremoniously dispose of it after the Christmas season ends. Instead, the tree is simply a beautiful and symbolic way to celebrate Christ’s birth, pointing to His eternal life and the hope He brings to the world. More on YouTube here.
2. Caroling
Caroling, or singing songs in celebration of Christmas, is sometimes linked to pagan practices of singing and dancing during seasonal festivals like Saturnalia or Norse Yule. While pagans did sing to mark seasonal changes, the Christian tradition of caroling evolved independently.
Caroling in its modern sense began in medieval Europe as a religious expression. Early Christian hymns were sung to honor Christ’s birth, with some of the earliest carols dating to the 4th century. By the Middle Ages, caroling had spread throughout Europe, with groups of singers going door to door, bringing joy and sharing the message of Christ’s Nativity. These songs emphasized Christian themes of peace, joy, and salvation, marking them as distinct from any pagan counterparts.
3. Feasting
Feasting during Christmas is sometimes compared to the revelry of pagan festivals like Saturnalia, which involved communal meals and merriment. However, the Christian tradition of feasting finds its roots in the celebration of God’s blessings, particularly the Incarnation.
The Bible often associates feasting with divine joy and thanksgiving (e.g., the wedding feast of Cana, where Jesus performed His first miracle). Early Christians celebrated Christmas with feasts not as a continuation of pagan practices but as a reflection of the joy of Christ’s birth. The act of sharing food also symbolized Christian fellowship and charity, especially as many medieval Christmas feasts included provisions for the poor.
4. Gift-Giving
The tradition of gift-giving at Christmas is often traced back to Saturnalia, where Romans exchanged tokens during their winter festivities. However, the Christian custom of giving gifts is rooted in the Gospel accounts of the Magi bringing gold, frankincense, and myrrh to the infant Jesus (Matthew 2:11). This act of honoring Christ with gifts became a model for Christian generosity.
5. The Legend of Santa Claus
The modern figure of Santa Claus did not appear suddenly, nor was he borrowed from pagan mythology. He is the result of layer upon layer of Christian history, biblical imagination, Reformation-era conflict, Romantic-era literature, and finally modern commercial reinvention. When traced honestly, Santa Claus emerges not as a pagan god in disguise, but as a Christian figure gradually reshaped by culture and commerce.
Saint Nicholas of Myra: The Historical Foundation
At the heart of Santa Claus stands Saint Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra, who lived in the fourth century (c. AD 270–343) in what is now modern-day Turkey. Nicholas was a real Christian bishop renowned for radical generosity, especially toward the poor and children.
The most famous legend recounts how Nicholas secretly provided dowries for three impoverished sisters, tossing bags of gold through their window at night to save them from destitution. This story established the core elements of Santa Claus long before modern folklore:
Nighttime gift-giving
Anonymity and humility
Charity rooted in Christian virtue
From Saint Nicholas to Sinterklaas — and Santa Claus
As devotion to Saint Nicholas spread throughout Europe, it took on local cultural expressions. In the Low Countries he became Sinterklaas, a shortened form of Saint Nicholas.
Sinterklaas:
Remained explicitly a Christian saint
Visited children seasonally
Rewarded good behavior and corrected wrongdoing
Emphasized generosity and moral formation
Dutch settlers carried this tradition to North America, where “Sinterklaas” gradually became “Santa Claus.” This was a linguistic evolution, not a theological invention.
The Reformation: Anti-Catholicism and the Removal of Saint Nicholas
During the Protestant Reformation, devotion to saints was widely rejected as “popish superstition.” Saint Nicholas, among the most beloved Catholic saints, became a particular target.
Rather than abolishing gift-giving altogether, Reformers replaced the saint:
Father Christmas in England — a symbolic figure of festivity without sainthood
The Christ Child (Christkind) in German lands — redirecting gifts directly to Christ
These changes were driven largely by anti-Catholic sentiment, not pagan revival. Ironically, while Saint Nicholas’ name was suppressed, the Christian meaning of generosity endured.
Why Santa Flies: Scripture, Not Odin
The claim that Santa’s flight through the sky derives from Odin collapses under historical and theological scrutiny.
Christian Scripture, especially Revelation 19, depicts Christ returning in glory with the armies of heaven riding from the sky to judge the world. Medieval Christians imagined heaven as active, triumphant, and mobile.
In northern regions where horses were scarce, reindeer replaced horses in the imagination. The theology remained biblical; only the animal changed. This is Christian inculturation, not pagan borrowing.
Why the Odin Theory Fails
The Odin hypothesis persists mainly because it sounds sensational:
Odin was not associated with charity to children
Odin was not a moral judge rewarding behavior
Odin was not linked to Christmas generosity
Odin worship had largely collapsed centuries earlier
By contrast, Saint Nicholas devotion, biblical imagery, and Christian feast days were dominant across Europe. The idea that Christians secretly absorbed Odin into Christmas ignores their active opposition to pagan worship.
Santa Claus is not Odin in disguise. He is Saint Nicholas filtered through Reformation conflict, regional culture, and biblical imagination.
The 18th–19th Centuries: Folklore and Romantic Reinvention
By the 18th and 19th centuries, Europe and America entered the Romantic era, marked by nostalgia for folklore, medieval tradition, and childlike wonder. Writers and collectors — including figures such as the Brothers Grimm — preserved and romanticized older Christian and folk traditions, setting the stage for a more magical Santa.
During this period, Saint Nicholas was increasingly detached from his episcopal identity and reimagined as a whimsical, supernatural visitor — especially in literature written for children.
A Visit from St. Nicholas: The Birth of the American Santa
The definitive shaping of the modern American Santa Claus came with the 1823 poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas,” more commonly known as “’Twas the Night Before Christmas.”
This poem crystallized many features now taken for granted:
Santa as a jolly, magical figure
His arrival on Christmas Eve, not December 6
Travel through the night sky
Entry through the chimney
A sleigh pulled by reindeer, each named
A warm, domestic focus centered on children
Here, Santa is no longer clearly a bishop or saint, but a benevolent supernatural visitor, perfectly suited to a growing American culture that favored sentiment, imagination, and family-centered celebration.
Similar 19th-century poems, stories, and illustrations reinforced this portrayal, firmly relocating Santa from church feast day to home and hearth, from liturgy to children’s literature.
Commercialization and Coca-Cola
In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, mass media and advertising completed Santa’s transformation.
Most famously, Coca-Cola’s advertising campaigns in the 1930s standardized Santa’s now-universal appearance:
Red suit
White beard
Jolly, grandfatherly demeanor
Rotund, friendly figure
Coca-Cola did not invent Santa, but it fixed his image in the modern imagination and further separated him from his explicitly Christian origins. Santa became a cultural icon — and eventually a commercial mascot.
Conclusion: From Saint to Symbol
Santa Claus is not a pagan god, nor a Christian hoax, nor merely a fairy tale. He is:
A real Christian saint
Reshaped by Reformation-era anti-Catholicism
Reimagined by 18th–19th century Romantic literature
Defined by American poetry
Finalized by modern advertising
The tragedy is not Santa himself, but the loss of memory. Beneath the red suit and commercial gloss still lies Saint Nicholas’ charity, Christ’s self-gift, and the biblical vision of heaven breaking into earth.
Santa was never meant to replace Christ.
He was meant — however imperfectly — to point toward Him.
6. The Yule Log
The Christmas Yule log is often described as “pagan,” but there is no solid historical evidence to support that claim. While fire and light were used in many ancient cultures, the Yule log as it appears in history is a medieval Christian household custom, not a surviving pagan ritual. By the time it is documented, Europe had been Christian for centuries, and the practice was explicitly tied to Christmas, prayer, and blessing.
In Christian homes, the log was commonly blessed with holy water, marked with the sign of the cross, lit on Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, and associated with prayers for Christ’s protection over the household. These details matter. Meaning is determined by intention and object, not by superficial resemblance. Fire at Christmas does not imply nature worship any more than candles in church do.
The word Yule itself does not prove pagan origin. In medieval English, Yule simply meant Christmas. The Church did not adopt a pagan festival; rather, Christian faith reshaped language, time, and custom. Fire and light are deeply biblical symbols, used throughout Scripture to express God’s presence and Christ as the Light of the world.
The Yule log belongs to Christian domestic piety. It reflects an incarnational faith that allows material things, time, and the home itself to speak of Christ. To burn a Yule log at Christmas is not to honor the sun or the season, but to confess, in a simple and human way, that light has entered the darkness.
🌿 Mistletoe, Wreaths, Garlands, and Lights: Are They Pagan?
Some critics broaden the claim that “Christmas is pagan” to include mistletoe, wreaths, garlands, greenery, candles, and lights. This claim rests on a basic misunderstanding of history and Christian theology.
7. Mistletoe
Mistletoe had symbolic meaning in some pre-Christian European cultures because it remained green in winter and was associated with life and peace. But symbolic use is not worship, and mistletoe was never a deity.
When Christians later used mistletoe decoratively, they did not adopt pagan beliefs. Its symbolism was reoriented toward eternal life and reconciliation through Christ. The familiar “kissing under the mistletoe” custom is not ancient pagan ritual at all, but a much later English folk tradition.
Using mistletoe as decoration does not constitute paganism any more than using olive branches or flowers.
8. Wreaths and Garlands
Evergreen wreaths and garlands are often labeled “pagan” simply because evergreens were used before Christianity. This ignores how Christianity actually engages culture.
Christians gave these symbols explicit theological meaning:
Evergreens symbolize eternal life in Christ
The circular wreath represents eternity
Holly’s thorns recall the Crown of Thorns, and its red berries the Blood of Christ
These are not pagan holdovers, but Christian symbolism expressed through creation.
9. Lights and Candles
The use of light in winter is sometimes cited as evidence of pagan influence, yet light is central to biblical revelation:
“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (John 1:5)
Christmas celebrates Christ’s Incarnation—the Light entering a dark world. Candles and lights are not borrowed pagan rituals; they are natural expressions of Christian theology.
The Core Error
The argument that Christmas decorations are pagan assumes that anything pre-Christian is forbidden. This is not how Christianity works.
Christianity does not destroy culture—it redeems it.
Creation belongs to God:
“The earth is the Lord’s and the fullness thereof.” (Psalm 24:1)
Evergreens preach life.
Light proclaims Christ.
Wreaths proclaim eternity.
None of these constitute pagan worship. They proclaim the Gospel through the created world.
Theological Significance of Christmas
The Incarnation
What Christmas is actually about
The celebration of Christmas is fundamentally about the Incarnation: the Christian belief that God became man in the person of Jesus Christ. It is not, at its core, a seasonal festival or a borrowed myth, but a theological claim about history itself. As the Gospel of John states plainly, “The Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14).
From the earliest centuries, Christians understood this claim as essential to salvation. Athanasius of Alexandria famously summarized the logic of the Incarnation this way: “He became what we are so that he might make us what he is” (On the Incarnation, 54.3). Later doctrinal disputes forced the Church to clarify what Christians had always confessed in worship. The Council of Nicaea affirmed Christ’s full divinity, and the Council of Chalcedon articulated the doctrine that Christ is fully God and fully man, without confusion or division.
Christmas, then, celebrates a mystery that is precise, demanding, and historically grounded. This alone should make us cautious of claims that it simply recycles pagan myths. When examined closely, those claims fail on historical, literary, and theological grounds.
What Christians mean by the Virgin Birth
Christian doctrine does not teach that a god had sexual relations with a woman. In fact, the Gospel accounts go out of their way to deny precisely that.
In Matthew and Luke:
Mary conceives without sexual intercourse
God does not assume a male body or sexual role
The conception is an act of divine creation, not procreation
Joseph is explicitly excluded as the biological father
This matters because pagan myths overwhelmingly explain divine births through sexual activity. The Virgin Birth does the opposite. It insists that God acts by creative power alone.
The Protestant scholar N. T. Wright puts the contrast sharply:
“The idea of a god having sex with a woman belongs very clearly to the pagan world. The idea of God acting by creative power alone belongs very clearly to Judaism.”
Why pagan “parallels” break down
Lists of supposed pagan precedents usually include Dionysus, Osiris, Isis and Horus, and Mithras. These comparisons rely on superficial similarities and ignore primary sources.
Dionysus
Dionysus is not born of a virgin. In Greek sources, he is conceived through sexual union between Zeus and Semele. After Semele’s death, Zeus preserves the fetus by sewing it into his thigh. The story is overtly sexual and mythological. It bears no resemblance to the Gospel claim that Mary conceives without intercourse.
As classicist Mary Lefkowitz notes, none of the so-called dying-and-rising gods were understood to have lived a historical life or to have been born of a virgin.
Osiris, Isis, and Horus
The Egyptian myth likewise fails as a parallel. Osiris is murdered and dismembered. Isis reassembles his body and conceives Horus through sexual union using ritual magic. The story presupposes physical intercourse and exists in multiple contradictory versions across centuries.
The Jewish historian Geza Vermes, no defender of Christian dogma, concludes that the Virgin Birth narratives “have no real analogy in ancient pagan mythology.”
Mithras
Mithras is frequently claimed to have been born of a virgin on December 25. Neither claim appears in ancient sources. Roman iconography depicts Mithras emerging fully grown from a rock, not from a woman. There is no mother figure, virgin or otherwise, and no early evidence for a December 25 birth celebration.
The historian Ronald Hutton states bluntly that there is no evidence for a virgin birth or a December 25 nativity in Mithraic religion.
Jewish roots explain the story far better
The Virgin Birth makes sense within Jewish theology, not pagan myth. Matthew explicitly cites Isaiah 7:14 as read in the Greek Septuagint, which uses parthenos (“virgin”). Luke structures his account around Old Testament birth annunciations but radicalizes the theme by excluding sexual conception altogether.
As Joseph Ratzinger (Benedict XVI) explains, the Incarnation is presented not as a divine mating myth but as a new act of creation, analogous to Genesis itself. This is a decisive distinction. Pagan myths are cyclical and symbolic. The Gospels are linear, historical, and covenantal.
The Gospels do not read like myths
The infancy narratives of Matthew and Luke are anchored in history:
named rulers (Herod, Augustus)
identifiable locations
Jewish law and custom
genealogies and fulfillment formulas
Pagan myths, by contrast, are set in an undefined past and unconcerned with historical verification. Even Bart Ehrman, a critic of Christian doctrine, acknowledges that the idea of Christians copying virgin birth stories from paganism “is not supported by the evidence.”
Why Saturnalia and other festivals do not explain Christmas
Claims about pagan origins often widen to include Saturnalia, a Roman festival beginning on December 17 and ending by December 23. Saturnalia was marked by social inversion, public gambling, heavy drinking, and ritual excess. Early Christian Christmas observance looked nothing like this. It centered on liturgy, Scripture, fasting before the feast, and almsgiving.
A basic chronological question also remains unanswered by critics: if Church authorities wanted to co-opt or rename Saturnalia to placate pagans, why choose a different date? Saturnalia ended before December 25. No ancient source suggests that Christians absorbed Saturnalian practices or simply rebranded the festival.
The more plausible explanation is that Christians marked Christ’s birth for theological reasons tied to the Incarnation, not for the sake of convenience or syncretism.
The Incarnation is the dividing line
At the heart of these debates is not history but discomfort with the claim Christianity makes. The Incarnation asserts that the eternal God entered human history in a specific time and place, without mythological disguise and without sexual imagery. This is precisely what separates Christianity from pagan religion.
As the early councils affirmed, Christ is not a demi-god, a symbol of nature, or a seasonal metaphor. He is fully God and fully man. Christmas celebrates that claim. Pagan myths do not anticipate it, and they do not explain it.
Conclusion
The Virgin Birth and the Christmas story do not emerge from pagan cults or recycled myths. They arise from Jewish Scripture, first-century history, and a theological conviction that God acts decisively within time.
Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, and secular scholars agree on this much: whatever one believes about the truth of the Incarnation, it cannot responsibly be explained as a borrowing from Dionysus, Osiris, Mithras, or Saturnalia.
Christmas proclaims something far more demanding than myth: that God entered the world as it is, not as a symbol, but as a man.
"The Apostles Didn't Celebrate Christmas"
When I hear the claim that “the Apostles didn’t celebrate Christmas,” I don’t hear it as a serious challenge to the feast so much as a misunderstanding of how the Church lives and grows. Of course the Apostles didn’t celebrate Christmas as we know it. They didn’t celebrate Trinity Sunday, Corpus Christi, or most of the liturgical calendar either. The Church did not receive the fullness of her worship all at once, frozen in the first century. She came to understand, articulate, and celebrate the mysteries of Christ over time, under the guidance of the Holy Spirit. As a Catholic, I believe development is not corruption. The absence of a feast in the apostolic age does not discredit it any more than the absence of formal creeds discredits the Trinity.
From my perspective, Christmas exists not because the Apostles held a birthday party for Jesus, but because the Church eventually recognized that the Incarnation demanded liturgical expression. The Gospel proclaims that “the Word became flesh and dwelt among us,” and Christmas is the Church’s way of insisting that this truth matters, not just doctrinally but humanly. We celebrate Christ’s birth because salvation did not begin at the Cross alone, but in the womb, in history, in time. As a Catholic, I don’t measure the legitimacy of a feast by whether the Apostles practiced it explicitly, but by whether it faithfully proclaims who Christ is. Christmas does exactly that.
Why Christmas Traditions Matter
The customs of Christmas—whether it’s the Christmas tree, caroling, feasting, or gift-giving—carry deep Christian significance. They reflect the joy of Christ’s birth, the light of salvation, and the spirit of generosity and fellowship. The historical evidence for the December 25th Nativity date further solidifies Christmas as a celebration firmly rooted in Christianity, not a co-opting of pagan festivals.
In a world where misinformation about Christmas abounds, understanding and embracing these traditions as expressions of faith and theology reaffirms the true meaning of the holiday: the Incarnation of Christ, God’s gift of Himself to humanity. By celebrating Christmas with joy and gratitude, Christians honor a history and tradition that has brought hope and light to countless generations.
Conclusion
Christmas is not a pagan holiday but a profound celebration of the Incarnation—the moment when "the Word became flesh." The traditions, including the Christmas tree and even the legend of Santa Claus, have been integrated into Christian practice with deep theological significance. As the Catechism reminds us, "The Church's mission is to proclaim and establish among all peoples the kingdom of Christ and of God" (CCC 768).
Consultation and Community
Catholics are only required to attend Mass on Christmas Day, but for many non-Catholics, the guidance of church leadership and the traditions of their particular Christian community play a significant role in deciding which holidays to observe. Dialogues with church leaders or more in-depth personal study can provide additional insight and guidance.
Ultimately, except for Catholics, each individual or family must decide which holidays to celebrate based on their understanding of Scripture, their cultural context, and their personal convictions about what honors God in their worship and celebration.
Sources:
Catechism of the Catholic Church, sections 1194, 768.
St. Augustine, Sermon 190: On the Nativity of Christ.
St. Athanasius, On the Incarnation, 54:3.
Council of Nicaea (325 AD), Council of Chalcedon (451 AD).
1 Corinthians 9:22; John 1:14.
And to clarify, the Catholic Church does not mandate the celebration of Christmas beyond its original intent: participating in Mass, hearing the Word of God, and receiving the Eucharist, which commemorates the birth of Christ. The Church does not require or prescribe the customs often associated with Christmas, such as decorating trees, setting up nativity scenes, hanging mistletoe, adorning homes with greenery and lights, caroling, or even the modern figure of Santa Claus. In fact, many Catholics, both clergy and laity—including myself—prefer not to perpetuate the myth of the contemporary Santa Claus, which diverges significantly from the historical St. Nicholas, the Bishop of Myra. St. Nicholas was a real person, known for his generosity and devotion, and serves as a far better example of Christian virtue than the magical figure we see today.
Much of what is now considered part of the "Christmas tradition" is not essential to the holiday and, in some cases, has no formal endorsement from the Catholic Church. For example, the use of Christmas trees was once slow to be adopted by the Church, partly due to their association with Protestant practices and the legend of Martin Luther introducing candles on trees.
Personally, I choose to celebrate Christmas not only by attending Mass but also by embracing these traditions—regardless of their origins—because they help me honor the birth of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I find joy in the cultural aspects of Christmas: the greenery, the trees, the songs, the lights, the nativity scenes, and the wintry decorations. These elements are not only enjoyable but also hold a nostalgic value, evoking memories of my childhood, when Christmas was a time spent with family and filled with anticipation. There is nothing wrong with enjoying these traditions as long as they are directed toward celebrating Christ, and God knows the intentions of our hearts.
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