The First Christmas - Part 2

If you haven't read part 1, you can find it here.

The Big Day

Whump!

Julia woke with a start as two small arms wrapped themselves around her neck.

“Wake up Mummy! It is Christmas!” Junilla hissed loudly in what she imagined was a whisper.

“What time is it?” a half-asleep Gaius asked from the other side of the bed.

“We are all up and Mack is up and is cooking.”

“We” likely being her and her two brothers, and Mack being one of the household slaves.  Mack got up every morning at dawn to bake bread, which suggested that the sun was already up.

“Aren’t you up yet?” came a much older voice from the doorway.  Flavia was also up. “If you don’t get a move on, we will be late for church.  Put on an extra layer or two, it is cold out today.”

A short while later, Gaius and Julia emerged from their room both dressed for a cool but festive day.  The three children were sitting at a table in the courtyard eating breakfast, supervised by Mara, another of the household slaves and nanny to the children.

The family had just finished breakfast when they heard the noise outside of the herald calling and clapping his sticks to let everyone it was time for church.  With some hustle the family got ready to leave the house.

“Is Mack coming?” Secondus enquired after noticing an absence.  The slaves were part of the family and were expected attended church most weeks.

“No, he must carry on with the preparations for the feast.  He will also be here to let the family in if they get here before we get home from church.” Explained Gaius, knowing that   Mack was happier staying at home in the kitchen.

They met several groups of friends on the way down the hill to the church, all headed in the same direction.  Now they could hear the trumpet playing outside the church to alert those nearby that the service was about to start.  They entered the building and moved to stand in their normal spot, although the children pushed to the front so that they could see better.

Father Ambrose looked out across the congregation and smiled at the many eager faces.

“We will start with the Angel’s Hymn, which is known to many of you.” He announced.  The Angels Hymn was an old song written to mark that Nativity two hundred years earlier.  It was still popular.

The congregation sung accompanied by a lyre that could barely be heard above the voices and a drum to keep rhythm.

After the song, Father Ambrose took out his Gospel codex and hurriedly read the nativity stories from the books of Matthew and Luke.  He knew that few of the children fidgeting at his feet understood the Greek he was reading and the rest of the congregation had little more knowledge of the language. After the reading, Father Ambrose then re-told the stories in Latin and reminded the congregation of the meaning behind the stories.

“Now, I have something special for you.” Father Ambrose announced. “At the request of the blessed Bishop Mark, the notable Hilary of Poitiers in Gaul has written a new hymn for this new celebration based on the words of the poet Prudentius.  I instructed the deacons to practice the song and they will lead you in it now.”

The deacons sang words that would endure through the centuries.*

 

Jesus Light of All the Nations,

Merciful Redeemer

Let every race of believers

Sing and Celebrate

 

A Star,

Shining in the heavens

Announces his birth

and led the Magi to his Crib

 

They adore a little child

Wrapped with swaddling clothes

They acknowledge the true God

By giving a mystic gift

 

Father Ambrose ended the service with a blessing.

“I like that new song.” said Junilla, who proceeded to hum the tune as they left the building.

“It is not bad.” Flavia begrudgingly agreed.

The walk home took slightly longer that the walk to church as it was up hill and they were in no rush.  The group had grown from the immediate household to include one of Julia’s sisters and family.  The weather had turned even cooler while they were inside church and now some indistinct fluffy white clouds were gathering over the city.

Primus reached the front door first.  He pushed it open to reveal noisy chatter.

“Come now Mack, you must let me have a cup.  You must do as you’re are told, slave.”  The distinct voice of Uncle Flavius rose about the general murmurs.  It sounded like he had already had a least one cup.

“I am not your slave.” was the sullen response, which silenced the room.

Gaius pushed past Primus to stop trouble brewing.  He quickly caught Mack’s eye and nodded, giving permission to break out the wine.  Mack hmphed and headed to the storeroom to find the wine.  Flavius turned and saw that the remainder of the family had arrived.

“You should thrash him.” Flavius told Gaius, who chose to ignore the comment, knowing that there was no point trying to explain to Flavius that he preferred to treat his slaves well.

The atrium in the centre of the house was full of people with children running around the pool in the middle of the room and groups of men and women chattering.  The floor was warm from the hypocaust but there was a chill in the air, so everyone was moving around to keep warm.

Julia went to check on the dining room.  Seeing all the family gathered together, she was worried about how they would all fit, even though she and Mack had worked it all out the day before.  It would be a tight squeeze while they said grace and broke bread together before the main meal.  After that, Mara and one of her sister’s slaves, who also served as a nanny, would take the children to another room for their own feast which would give the adults a little more space.

After check the dining room, Julia was reassured and returned to the atrium.  There were several baskets and parcels lined up along one wall; gifts waiting to be given.  The children were all surreptitiously looking the pile.

Junilla sidled up and asked in one of her very loud whispers “Mummy, can we do gifts?”

The other children heard and turned pleading eyes to Julia or their parents.

“Let’s exchange gifts.” Gaius, as father of the house took control, knowing that there would no peace from the children until gifts were handed out.

A short time later, after much chaos and noise, one of the slaves gathered wrappings and one or two already broken toys, cleaning up the atrium for when the family had finished their Christmas dinner.

***************

Flavius was the first to leave the dining room after the Christmas feast.  He wove a crocked path across the clear and empty atrium, headed for the smallest room, which was next to the kitchen, as it was in most of Rome’s houses.

“I must check on Mack.” Julia used as an excuse to escape the dining room next.

“I need some fresh air.”  Flavia emerged next and started the flood of people leaving the room.

Titus soon found himself all alone with everyone being too rude or too drunk to listen to him explain the background to why they were now celebrating Christmas instead of various other mid-winter festivals. He couldn’t understand why no one wanted to discuss this fascinating subject. Sighing, he got up and vacated the dining room.

Flavius, having relieved himself, staggered back into the now noisy atrium.  He sat on the edge of the rain water pool in the centre of the room under the opening in the ceiling.  Relaxing, he leant back just a bit too far.

Splash!

He fell back into the cold water with a scream.

Conversations stopped and everyone turned to look at the spluttering man.

“Quick, get him out.” Someone yelled from the back of the room.

“Blankets.” Julia yelled in the direction of one of the slaves who was waiting for such commands in a corner.

Gaius and Titus pulled the sodden and struggling Flavius from the pool, getting rather wet themselves.

Wet clothing was quickly removed and the three men were wrapped in towels and blankets by Julia and the slave.

“Ooh look! What is the white stuff falling through the roof?  Did Uncle Flavius make the sky fall?” cried an excited Secondus.

All of the children rushed over to the pool and looked up at the white flakes falling through the gap in the roof into the pool.  Concerned mothers and nannies followed.

“It hasn’t snowed in years.” Someone commented.

“It has in fact been twelve years.” Titus launched into a lecture on the history of snow falls in Rome that could not be heard over the excited yells of children.

“Is it snowing outside too?” Primus asked before he ran to the front door.

Outside, the street was full of people looking up at the sky or admiring the dusting of white that was fast covering every surface.

“It is cold and wet.” complained Junilla as she reached up for the comfort of her mother’s arms.

“Perhaps we had better head home before it sets in.” said one of Julia’s sisters.

Behind the thick clouds, the sun was sinking low in the sky and the light was dimming.  Parents gathered children and belongings, and goodbyes were said.

Back in the house, Gaius and Titus had changed into fresh warm clothes.

“We put Flavius in the spare room to sleep off the wine.” Gaius explained.  “Titus will stay over to keep an eye on him.”

 

“I enjoyed today. It was better than the old festivals with the snow.  I think we should do Christmas again next year.” said Flavia.

“It might not snow next year.” explained Titus.

“Maybe not, but there is always hope.”

 

*Click here to listen to Jesus refulsit omnium, the Hymn written by St Hilare sometime in the 4^th Century AD.  The translation in the story is thanks to a combination of Google translate, a copyrighted translation that I didn’t want to copy directly and an old English version. 

The First Christmas - Part 1

 Background

This is a short story in two parts about the first recorded Christmas celebrated in Rome in 336AD.  The record of that first Christmas is just a few words in a list of dates.  I have added in some events and customs from around that time period.  My apologies for any anachronisms.

Preparation

“What are we doing this year?” the old woman asked.  The question was directed at no one in particular.  She was sitting on a stool in the corner of the room, using two lamps to light her sewing.

The two small children ignored her and continued with their game in the middle of the floor, vaguely supervised by their mother, while an older boy appeared to be studying a scroll.  On the other side of the room, her son, the father of the three children, was snoozing.  Noticing this, the old woman repeated herself with a louder tone.

“What are we doing this year? You know, for the festivities?  It is only a month away and we need to make plans.” She paused and watched her son open his eyes and look at her.  “Well, Gaius, what are we doing for Saturnalia?”

Gaius jumped up and peered into the dark corners of the room. “Mother, not Saturnalia.”

“Sol Invictus then,” she rolled her eyes “but I prefer the older ways.”

“No, mother, it is called Christmas now.  We are good Christians, like the Emperor.”

“Are we?” The old woman asked, uncertain.

“Yes, we go to church and do as the priests and the Bishop tells. The old gods are dead.”  Gaius explained. 

“The Bishop is dead too.” She commented. “And the Emperor is getting on in years.”

“Well, yes, but they will appoint a new Bishop soon.”  Gaius looked around the room to see who else was paying attention to his mother’s almost treasonous comments. His wife showed no sign of hearing the conversation.

The most recent Bishop of Rome, Mark, had only survived for ten months in office. He died several weeks ago, from natural causes.  They had all stood in the street to watch the funeral procession pass by.

“Mother, don’t you remember Father Ambrose telling us about the new festivals that are being added to the calendar for Christian celebrations instead of following the old pagan ways.”

“I remember Diocletian.  He killed lots of Christians.  He wouldn’t have allowed this new-fangled Christmas.”  The old woman glanced at her daughter-in-law.

“My grandparents were killed in the persecutions, Flavia.  Please don’t mention that evil man’s name.” The daughter-in-law was listening into the conversation after all.

“Yes, Mother, you know what he did to Julia’s relatives and many others.  The rest of her family were lucky to survive.” Gaius supported his wife against his mother. Gaius’s family had converted only after the Emperor Constantine had had his vision some twenty years earlier.

“Well then, what are we doing for this Christmas?  How do we celebrate it?” Flavia persisted with her questioning about the special occasion, while at the same time accepting that she had pushed things far enough with her daughter-in-law.

“We have the biggest dining room, so we will invite the family here for a feast.” Julia replied. “My sisters, your daughters and their families will all come, I am sure.  My brother is in the South, though, so won’t be here.”

“What about my brother, Flavius?” Flavia asked.

Gaius and Julia exchanged glances before Gaius spoke, “Of course Uncle Flavius and cousin Titus are welcome to join us.”

Uncle Flavius was rather too fond of wine and his son Titus was an awkward guest, but they were family.

“Do we do gifts?” Flavia wasn’t done.

“I like gifts.” The younger boy spoke up.

“Do I get a holiday from School?” asked the older boy at the table.

Gaius and Flavia looked at each other again.  Flavia grimaced and shrugged.

“Er, Yes. I think there will be gifts, Secondus, and a holiday, Primus.” Gaius stated with a lot more confidence than he felt.  Gifts were part of the natal story in the scriptures, so it made sense to him that gifts could be part of the festival.  And, festivals were always days of no work or school.  Tomorrow he would ask his neighbours and work colleagues what they were doing for Christmas.  He thought that they should check with the priest at church on Sunday, too, just to make sure they were doing it right. 

“So, it will be just like Saturnalia.” said Flavia, with some satisfaction.

“No, we will go to church and… light candles.” Gaius said, grasping at anything he could think of to distinguish it from the old ways.  He vaguely knew that in the Jewish quarter, they had a Festival of Lights around this time of year and it seemed right that to him that there would be some Jewish aspects to the celebration of the birth of someone who was Jewish.

“Will there be singing? I like singing.” His daughter asked.  Her singing often echoed around the house.

“Of course! We always sing in church. They might have special songs because Christmas is a special day.” Gaius was much more confident about this.

“What is Christmas?” The young boy’s question drew a laugh from Flavia.

“It is a special Mass and a special day to celebrate the birth of the Christ, Jesus.”  explained Gaius.

“So, it’s kind of a birthday party?”

“Yes, Secondus, it is an extra special birthday party.”  Gaius decided it was a good an explanation as any for a four-year-old child.

“And we keep celebrating it because he didn’t die? Isn’t that what the priest said.” asked the older boy, knowing that birthday celebrations were normally only for living people.

“I think so, Primus.” Gaius now felt out of his depth and wondered if he should go to church to talk to the priest tomorrow rather than waiting for Sunday.

***************

The following morning, Gaius was up early.  After a quick breakfast prepared by two of their slaves, he left for work.  As he left the house, he saw his neighbour and colleague Junius just ahead of him.

“Junius, wait up.” Gaius called.

Junius stopped and looked back with a smile. “Gaius my friend, how are you today?”

“I am doing well.  I have a question for you.  What is your family doing for this new festival, Christmas?”  Gaius asked as he joined Junius and they continued on their way to work.

“The wife and I were only talking about it last night.  We thought about getting the family together for a feast.  She suggested gifts.  It fits with the scripture story.  Maybe some candles or lanterns?” Junius paused, “Oh, and of course we will go to church.”

“We thought similar.” Gaius nodded with relief.  “The family are all coming around to ours, even Uncle Flavius.”

 “We all have an Uncle Flavius.” Junius laughed.  “By the way, have you asked Father Ambrose about it?  Is there anything extra we should be doing?  We want to make sure we don’t do anything wrong.”

“Not yet, but I was planning to talk to him on Sunday.”  Gaius decided it could wait until Sunday if others were doing similar to him.

“Hail, friends.” A familiar voice sounded behind them, another colleague.  Gaius and Junius waited for him to catch up.  “I have a question for you…”

The conversation was repeated several times over on their way to work as more colleagues joined them.  It seemed like the various mothers, grandmothers and Aunts had coordinated interrogating their families about the upcoming holiday.  The consensus was going to church, singing, dancing, a feast, gift and lights.

***************

On the next Sunday, the family went to church. Father Ambrose stood and looked over his congregation.  They were particularly attentive today.  He smiled, aware of the conversation that had been circulating around the community in recent days.

“Before we start the service, I know some of you were wondering about how we should mark the Messiah’s birth with Christmas, as instructed by Pope Mark before his passing. It is a solemn occasion but also a time of celebration. The day will, or course, start with a special church service that you will all attend.  After the service, you might have family feast, maybe fish or lamb; both are symbolic of the Messiah.  You may continue the tradition of giving gifts to the poor.” He paused for a moment and winked at some of the children, “Because we are all poor in spirit, you may give gifts to family and friends, also.  This recognises the gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh the wise men gave the baby Jesus. You may also want to light candles and lamps to symbolise the light coming into the world.  It is a new celebration and should be celebrated in new ways.”

Gaius felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.  His thinking was aligned to that of Father Ambrose, so he must be on the right path.  He sung with extra fervour that morning.

 See my next post to find out what happened on Christmas Day.