The Vigil Night, and Twelve More Days

What ever happened to the Twelve Days of Christmas?

Despite it being a thin year, I wanted to purchase at least a few gifts for those closest to me. As such, it was impossible to avoid drifting -- at least a few times -- into the commercial madness of an American Christmas.

Then it hit me: It is entirely possible -- and entirely American -- to have both the shallow and deep forms of Christmas, all wrapped up into one beneficial whole.

After all, Christmas shopping is a fundamental part of our economy: it provides jobs, encourages innovation, and affects our finances for the remainder of the year. We're a generous country, and so we give and (hopefully) benefit from our giving.

Yet when all is purchased and wrapped and prepared, what then? What is the meaning beneath the commercial hoopla?

Commercial interests desire to sell you things -- they do what must be done to turn a profit. It is not their responsibility -- or the responsibility of the media -- to confer meaning on your life. You should be smart enough to do that yourself.

We can look to the old traditions to help us bring meaning to this time of year. I don't say this to be a traditionalist or a reactionary, but out of the simple fact that traditions -- like old folk songs and Carols -- accumulate a historical baggage which gives them power.

To link with the past -- in the present -- gives us roots. It gives us power. It brings a deeper meaning into our homes. Who wouldn't want that?

Keep in mind a simple fact: despite Christmas Carols on the radio and decorations in the store, Christmas does not BEGIN until the 25th. From there, the season lasts until the celebration of three kings -- which screams in the face of those who toss their Christmas trees on the morning of the 26th.

Right now, we're still in the midst of Advent, a time of quiet, preparation, and soul-searching.

In my family, we observe the old "Vigil" (Wigilia) tradition which is still celebrated throughout Europe. Christmas Eve is a hushed time, full of candles, low lights, hummed ancient carols, and a meatless evening meal which is itself a work of art. Secular music is forbidden, patience is the byword.

The presents purchased, the secular is now shut out and the sacred brought in. The home is a panoply of smells while things boil, fry, and bake. The day is largely approached as a fast, only to be broken with the Wigilia meal when the first star appears in the sky. Before the meal, wafers are exchanged between family members, along with heartfelt words and wishes for the upcoming new year. A prayer is said, including a brief requiem for those who had departed. At every table, an empty plate is set for the possible wayward traveler -- or the family member far away.

It's all so darn anti-modern that I can't help but write about it each and every year. Ther eis meaning here, and there isn't a telemarketer or shopping mall that can diminish it on this particularly sacred evening.

Things wind down into the night, people drift off to sleep, candles flicker slowly. Then, somehow, rousing one last burst of strength, the house erupts into activity as everyone prepares to depart for the midnight Mass. After Mass, with Christmas fully in-swing, we never hit the sack before a few glasses of rum-laced egg-nog are consumed.

I'm not saying everyone should celebrate our kind of Vigilia. I am saying, however, that there is no reason to make this a "bowling night," or a time for Chinese Food and rented movies. This is the most sacred night of the year, and our family traditions should reflect this.

Keep your trees up until the feast of Three Kings, if you can. Keep the lights burning, and the carols playing. Christmas goes until the 6th of January, after all! Why shouldn't we celebrate the entire time?

It's deep. It's edifying. It brings meaning to the season. And it's a heck of a lot of fun.

...And so I wish you all a silent night, a holy night, and an evening where all is calm and bright.
I'd write more, but I have to go help in the kitchen.... :)