Io Saturnalia!
Dec. 25th, 2006 05:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
omorkaFor those who are followers of the Nova Roma path, and to all who honor the Roman deities, Happy Saturnalia!
For those who honor the Invincible Sun in all His/its many forms, a very Happy Birthday of the Sun to you! (For those from more Northern climes who wonder why I didn't say this at Yule, it's because at the more moderate latitudes the rising spot of the sun really does seem to just not move on the horizon from about the 19th to about the 23rd, thus "sol-stice," Sun-stands-still. The 24th or the 25th is when the newly growing light is actually measurable by sundial in Rome; thus the Roman celebrations come a few days after the Germanic Yule.)
And for those whose culture and/or religion are Christian, Merry Christmas!
--
Many different cultures across the planet have passed through a "gift economy" phase, in which the more fortunate - chieftains, kings, those who have felt the blessings of the gods, and those who have just been the recipients of incredible luck - are obligated in various ways to give to the community, and especially to their friends and family in the community who are less fortunate. The Greeks called on their wealthiest to offer sacrifices to the gods, up to a hundred head of cattle at once; the blood, bones, marrow, and fat were burned as offering and the lean meat was roasted and served to the community as a feast. The Romans had their day of misrule when the servants were master and the masters served, clothed, and fed them. The Germanic kings gave away the wealth of battle to those who did the fighting; "ring-giver" is one of the highest compliments in Beowulf for a good king. And the northwestern Native Americans had their potlatch, competitive gift-giving in which chiefs tried to outdo each other.
Now, the gift economy has its own faults, just as every other economic form does - that competitive gift-giving could beggar a chief, or in a few outlandish cases his tribe, if they weren't careful - but there is an element of the idea that thumbs its nose to both capitalism and to communism in a way I appreciate. The Scrooge-like hoard instinct of capitalism, the nature of capital to attract more to itself at the expense of those who have less, suddenly is interrupted by a sudden outflow for which there is little, if any, expected return. The demand of communism that unequal distributions of wealth be taken, seized, is chided by the expectation that it will be given freely, in ways and manners of the giver's choosing. There is no inherent generosity in the two grand competing systems of the 20th century West, a quality I find sorely lacking. (It did exist to some extent in pre-Marxist British socialism - read Mill if you don't believe me - but once Marx arrived on the scene, it disappeared, and I despair of ever retrieving that moment.)
If there were some way of divorcing Christmas from the retail establishment, in particular the big-box retailers; if it could be made not to feed the greatest gaping maws of consumerism, and the cross-class elements that distinguished the gifting of Saturnalia were to return, then it could be once again that moment when the gift economy moderates the usual whip-cracking of capitalism. A moment of true generosity, presided over by the spirit that Ma Ingalls identified as the true Santa back in the 19th century, is something we desperately need, both in those who have finding true joy - not mere obligation or expectation - in the giving, and in those who have less finding grace in the receiving (else it becomes just another power play).
Perhaps that's too much to expect of the holiday. Yule is a feast, a community sharing of food in the dark time, a trust that what is stored is enough, will last until the first spring greens can be gathered to fill their bellies instead. The sharing of gifts is an extra; the sharing of food is the central idea. But Saturnalia/the Birth of Mithras and the Invincible Sun/Christmas is a holiday from a more decadent culture, where there would always be bread even if there was nothing else. Here we are led by example, whether by a god's gifts to his people or the Magi giving to a child born in humble circumstances. Here there is gold already, sanctified in its giving away.
For those who honor the Invincible Sun in all His/its many forms, a very Happy Birthday of the Sun to you! (For those from more Northern climes who wonder why I didn't say this at Yule, it's because at the more moderate latitudes the rising spot of the sun really does seem to just not move on the horizon from about the 19th to about the 23rd, thus "sol-stice," Sun-stands-still. The 24th or the 25th is when the newly growing light is actually measurable by sundial in Rome; thus the Roman celebrations come a few days after the Germanic Yule.)
And for those whose culture and/or religion are Christian, Merry Christmas!
--
Many different cultures across the planet have passed through a "gift economy" phase, in which the more fortunate - chieftains, kings, those who have felt the blessings of the gods, and those who have just been the recipients of incredible luck - are obligated in various ways to give to the community, and especially to their friends and family in the community who are less fortunate. The Greeks called on their wealthiest to offer sacrifices to the gods, up to a hundred head of cattle at once; the blood, bones, marrow, and fat were burned as offering and the lean meat was roasted and served to the community as a feast. The Romans had their day of misrule when the servants were master and the masters served, clothed, and fed them. The Germanic kings gave away the wealth of battle to those who did the fighting; "ring-giver" is one of the highest compliments in Beowulf for a good king. And the northwestern Native Americans had their potlatch, competitive gift-giving in which chiefs tried to outdo each other.
Now, the gift economy has its own faults, just as every other economic form does - that competitive gift-giving could beggar a chief, or in a few outlandish cases his tribe, if they weren't careful - but there is an element of the idea that thumbs its nose to both capitalism and to communism in a way I appreciate. The Scrooge-like hoard instinct of capitalism, the nature of capital to attract more to itself at the expense of those who have less, suddenly is interrupted by a sudden outflow for which there is little, if any, expected return. The demand of communism that unequal distributions of wealth be taken, seized, is chided by the expectation that it will be given freely, in ways and manners of the giver's choosing. There is no inherent generosity in the two grand competing systems of the 20th century West, a quality I find sorely lacking. (It did exist to some extent in pre-Marxist British socialism - read Mill if you don't believe me - but once Marx arrived on the scene, it disappeared, and I despair of ever retrieving that moment.)
If there were some way of divorcing Christmas from the retail establishment, in particular the big-box retailers; if it could be made not to feed the greatest gaping maws of consumerism, and the cross-class elements that distinguished the gifting of Saturnalia were to return, then it could be once again that moment when the gift economy moderates the usual whip-cracking of capitalism. A moment of true generosity, presided over by the spirit that Ma Ingalls identified as the true Santa back in the 19th century, is something we desperately need, both in those who have finding true joy - not mere obligation or expectation - in the giving, and in those who have less finding grace in the receiving (else it becomes just another power play).
Perhaps that's too much to expect of the holiday. Yule is a feast, a community sharing of food in the dark time, a trust that what is stored is enough, will last until the first spring greens can be gathered to fill their bellies instead. The sharing of gifts is an extra; the sharing of food is the central idea. But Saturnalia/the Birth of Mithras and the Invincible Sun/Christmas is a holiday from a more decadent culture, where there would always be bread even if there was nothing else. Here we are led by example, whether by a god's gifts to his people or the Magi giving to a child born in humble circumstances. Here there is gold already, sanctified in its giving away.
