How to navigate German Christmas markets like a pro

Usually I write about religion. Every once and a while, I like to dabble in travel.

After my trip to Germany with #TestingLutherCountry in October I was inspired to write a piece about the German Christmas markets popping up all over Deutschland.

As November ends, Weihnachtsmärkte—Christmas markets—pop up all over Germany. The Advent tradition stretches back to the late Middle Ages, when folks stocked up on goods as winter approached. Eventually, the festive shopping experiences spread further throughout the German-speaking world. Today, you can even find German-style Christmas markets around the rest of Europe and in places as far-reaching as New York or Montreal. As beautiful as they are, though, the German Christmas market experience can be a bit overwhelming for newcomers.

First-timers can make their way through the stalls, snacks, and slang of Germany’s magical holiday markets with ease, thanks to these 10 essential tips and tricks.

Christmas Could be Fun!

Whether it’s the long lines at the post office that are making you angry, the pain from the loss of a loved one last year that lingers, or the stress of putting together the perfect plan for your Christmas party, worship service, or program it can be hard to have fun at Christmas.

And yet, one of the promises of the good news of Christmas is that it can, and should, be fun.

Even so, Christians are too often known for sucking the joy out of the celebrations this time of year. Leading up to Christmas, we can be better known for tension than trimmings, for freaking out rather than reaching out, for anger rather than anticipation.

The invitation to both leaders and laity this season is to let go of the everlasting burden of being so serious, sullen, and always trying to sound so profound.

O Emmanuel, come make us human

O Emmanuel, our king and our Lord, the anointed for the nations and their Savior: Come and save us, O Lord our God. 

O Emmanuel, Rex et legifer noster, exspectatio gentium, et Salvator earum: veni ad salvandum nos Domine Deus noster.

There is freedom in community. There is liberty in communion. There is deliverance in the covenant. That is the message of Christmas. That is the sign of Emmanuel -- God with us. 

Greek theologian John Zizioulas vigorously argued in his work Being as Communion that human freedom -- indeed, the fullness of humanity itself -- can only be found in community. He proposed this thesis as the antidote to the rampant individualism omnipresent in our current culture.

Western culture’s embrace of individualism stems from its embrace of reason because, as we shall see, the individual — and only the individual — has the ability to reason. Emerging from a Christian-Protestant background and because of the heritage of the Reformation and the Enlightenment, Western society came to apperceive the social, political, and moral worth of the individual. 

A group of people, then, does not have the ability to reason or enjoy freedom, strictly speaking according to this philosophy. Only the individuals comprising the group do because all perception and thought takes place within the individual mind. There is no group mind or any submission to group mores. The individual sets the agenda.

Today, individualism is at its peak. Everything that makes human life secure and enjoyable—from achievements in medicine, music and engineering to breakthroughs in transportation, literature, arts, and government—we believe was, and is, ultimately the creation or discovery of one: the individual using his or her power of reason. The individual, therefore, is the hero of humanity.

Sadly, even at Christmastime we can forget about others and only serve ourselves -- wanting the best presents, purchasing gift cards only to benefit ourselves, or giving to charities only to benefit from a personal tax break.

As author Heather Davis shared on her Facebook feed the other day, "when individualism is taken to an extreme, individuals become its ironic casualties." (a quote by David G. Myers, excerpted from Man Turned in on Himself: Understanding Sin in 21st-century America - coming January 2015).

In contrast to our culture's idolatry of the individual Zizioulas retools Greek, and postmodern, philosophy to read Scripture through a communal lens. From this perspective, he argues that full humanity is achieved only insofar as a person participates (koinonia) in the Trinitarian life of God. 

This participation is only made possible in and through the incarnation, the birth of Jesus -- Emmanuel, God with us. 

Indeed, Jesus' taking on of human flesh -- the merging of humanity and divinity -- makes possible a deep fellowship between humanity as it was meant to be and divinity as it really and truly is, in communion. 

Incarnation signals the re-unification of humanity and divinity, the restoration of community, the re-creation of communion and the opportunity for us to truly say, for the first time, "I am." However, we do not say this as individuals on our own believing in Jesus, but as part of a community, a cathedral of humanity, a divine communion that says, "I am because we are." 

This is, for the initiated, the phraseology of the ubuntu philosophy derived from the Nguni proverb umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu, which means "a person is a person through other persons." Now ubiquitously recognized and respected throughout sub-Saharan Africa among Bantu people groups, the theology of ubuntu reflects that of Zizioulas' "being as communion" theology insofar as it affirms that full humanity is only possible through communion with others. Our very existence and well-being is grounded in the lives of those around us. This flies in the face of our predominant culture's slavish devotion to the self above all others. It's downright revolutionary. 

Scripture goes one step further and reveals that true community, and thus true humanity, is only possible in the fellowship of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Fellowship with this eternal communion is only possible in Christ -- Emmanuel, God with us. 

Amidst this heady theology I pray you can begin to sense just how significant this turn is. Emmanuel, the presence of the Eternal Trinity with us, is the causeway for us to become fully human. Don't miss that this Christmas. Hear the invitation to true communion and through God's Word and Sacraments come to enjoy the fellowship that fosters freedom and true being. 

Of course, I must warn you, in entering into this communion, there is a certain ethic that emerges as well. Living life in communion with Christ leads to a certain lifeway and set of postures toward others. As Claude Nikondeha said to a gathering of leaders discussion post-colonial African theology/ministry in Krugersdorp, South African in 2009, "'We are set in a delicate network of interdependence with our fellow human beings and all of creation,' Tutu states. This is a foundational understanding for our humanity, as one connected to others. In African we call this ubuntu. We are persons through other persons. Our humanity is all bundled up together -- yours, mine, those outside this camp, even those across the world. We are interconnected, and we are affected by the wellbeing of one another. When someone is humiliated, I am humiliated. When another is going to bed on an empty stomach, I am not satiated. When you are broken-hearted, my joy cannot be complete. I am diminished when you are not well. We are connected." 

Likewise, Martin Luther wrote on 1 Corinthians 11 in the 16th-century that not only do "we walk in the fellowship of [Christ's] benefits and He in the fellowship of our misfortune," but also, "we Christians also do with each other, take upon ourselves that of another, so that one person bears the sin and failings of another and serves the other with his piety."

Christmas is an invitation into humanity as it was meant to be, restored in the coming of Emmanuel. First, Jesus invites us to take on his humanity in fellowship with the ultimate Communion of the Cosmos -- divine and profane, fleshly and holy, perfect and physical. Second, we are called to live in communion with one another, to be fully human by serving, loving, and bearing one another in compassion and community. 

As you share gifts, break bread, sing together, watch movies, or just enjoy one another's presence this Christmas I invite all of you to see this as a foretaste of all God intends for humanity itself. All of it is good, right, and salutary in that Emmanuel, God with us, is ultimately a celebration of humanity itself. So, Merry Christmas, Christ -- Emmanuel -- has come and now we are invited to enjoy his fellowship and commune with one another from now unto the not yet of the Kingdom yet to come. 

Merry Christmas! 

*Follow @kchitwood on Twitter for more religion, theology, and culture

What the heck are Chrismons?

Vintage Christmas style is in these days. From old style Christmas cards to ugly Christmas sweater parties to the retro-chic look of a “winter” (or Advent) beard, this year’s festal season is in many ways a throw back to holidays past. If you want your tree to harken back to the nifty-fifties, then your best bet might be to add a gold and white Chrismon decoration.

Yeah, that’s right…a Chrismon.

What’s a Chrismon you ask?

The word Chrismon is derived from the words “Christ Monograms.” They are symbols representing the life, the ministry and the meaning of Jesus Christ. They are used to decorate Christmas trees and Christian homes during the holidays and along with being white and gold, they are often decorated with beads, ribbons and glitter.

*For more #FaithGoesPop follow @kchitwood

While these golden ornaments may not be in high demand for the majority of holiday revelers this Christmas, they are still found in Methodist and Lutheran churches throughout the United States.

Chrismons take many shapes and forms. From an anchor to a pomegranate, these symbols have been used by Christians for centuries to communicate theology, designate Christian meeting places in times of persecution, and identify individuals as Christian.

The modern tradition of hanging Chrismons was started by Frances K. Spencer at Lutheran Church of the Ascension in Danville, Virginia in 1957. Since then the practice has spread across the United States.

Talking to Gretchen Roberts of the Lutheran Witness, Rev. Dr. David Eberhard, pastor of the Historic Trinity church in Detroit said, “You’ve heard a picture is worth a thousand words. Nike has a swoosh; Ford’s blue oval is instantly recognizable. Our Christian symbols tell a story and reinforce the proclaimed Word. They are a visual statement of who we are as God’s people.”

However, a lot of the meaning of these symbols has been lost in contemporary Christmas culture.

At Memorial Lutheran Church in Katy, where I worked for a few years, the congregation went through a series of Advent devotionals based on the Chrismon symbols. Accompanying the sermon series there was a daily devotional highlighting a different Chrismon each day. Asked about the devotionals and learning the meaning of the Chrismons parishioner Mary Weis said she was enjoying the devotionals.

“I sat down to read one and found myself skipping ahead” she said, “I ended up finishing the devotional in one night, it was so interesting to learn the meaning of the symbols, it gives visual reference for my faith.”

Christmas, and its seasonal siblings – Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, the Winter Solstice and even Festivus – are meaningful holidays with religious and sociological importance. Icons and signs like Chrismons add special symbolic significance to these holidays. As was reported in my previous post on secular holiday symbols, Adele Nozedar said "the use of a simple symbol...says far more than any wordy explanation ever could." She continued, "Signs and symbols, our invention of them and understanding of them, transcend the barriers of written language and are the very heart of our existence as human beings." 

Symbols, like the Chrismons, help us make sense of the season, interpret our own identity, and even understand the cosmos itself.  

Perhaps this year you can take a moment to learn more about Chrismons and their meaning, or even make a few of your own as a family project. Here is just a sampling of some of the Chrismons and their significance:

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Bronze snake and tau – harkening back to an Old Testament story (Numbers 21:9) it points to the coming of Jesus Christ who would be “lifted up” for the life of his people (John 3:14).

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Pomegranate – This Mediterranean fruit is a symbol of the church, its seeds representing the people who are full of potential to bear much fruit (Matthew 7:17-18).

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Chi Rho – This is easily one of the most recognizable symbols of Christianity and is literally a “monogram of Christ.” The first two letters of the Greek word for “Messiah,” “Anointed One,” or “Christ” are chi (x) and rho(p). Put together they form this symbol of Jesus Christ. In the image above there are two additional symbols - the Alpha and Omega - signaling that Jesus Christ is the first and the last (alpha being the first letter of the Greek alphabet, omega the final), at creation and at judgment day in the Christian tradition. The "X" in X-mas is derived from the chi in chi rho. While many believe the "X" is secular, it is derived from ancient Christian symbology. 

*For more #FaithGoesPop follow @kchitwood

O Dayspring; splendor of light everlasting

O Dayspring, splendor of light everlasting; Come and enlighten those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death. 

O Oriens, splendor lucis aeternae, et sol iustitiae: veni, et illumina sedentes in tenebris et umbra mortis.

It shouldn't be like this. I'm about to write on the "Dayspring, splendor of light everlasting" and its dreary, overcast, and dull outside. 

What happened to the Sunshine State, Florida? 

Oh well. No bright dawn for us this morning. But in this O Antiphon for December 21st, the verse builds off the metaphor of the turn of the dawn. It's a beautiful picture and one we can appreciate, especially as we turn the page of the calendar on the Winter Solstice, the day of long darkness. We yearn for light to shine. 

I'm a morning person. When Elizabeth and I lived in South Africa I used to get up before dawn, make coffee, and sneak out the back door to our patio before light broke over Mabola, Mpumalanga. Mpumalanga literally means, "the place where the sun rises" and one of my favorite memories of living there was watching the mist and smoke rise to mix with the tendrils of early morning light breaking over the golden grassy mounts, mud brown huts, and red dirt roads. One of my other favorites was the birds. Crested barbets. Sacred ibis. Weavers. Red-headed cisticola. Starlings. 

*Read "A Mabola Morning" by my wife, Elizabeth Chitwood.

Even before dawn broke and Mabola awoke the birds would sing softly, begin flitting between branches, going about their waking hours as if it was already day. 

Bengali poet Rabindranath Tagore wrote, "faith is the bird that feels the light when the dawn is still dark." 

We are the people who "sit in darkness," the ones who dwell in the shadow of death yearning for light to break. And so it has. So it will. We are the people on whom light has, and will, dawn. As Charles Spurgeon penned, "the light which will come...lies all in Christ; and...(joyful news!) that light has already sprung up all around [us]: they have but to to open their eyes to delight in it."

I don't know your situation. It may be one of great darkness, one of serious sadness. I grieve with you, truly I do. But light has dawned and will dawn. Tomorrow, or the "tomorrow" after that, Christ will come and night will break forth into glorious day (Is 58:8).

Let us take confidence in the promise of the light to come this Advent, let us take heart in the dawn to break this Christmas, let us, with faith like birds, feel the light that has sprung up around us and sing, and dance, and get to work while dawn is still yet dark.

Amen. Come, Lord Jesus, come. 

*Follow @Kchitwood on Twitter

O Clavis David; open the door

Ever heard that cliche "when one door closes, another door opens?" 

Ugh. Give me a break. 

It's not that the phrase in and of itself is worthless and perhaps this cliche has delivered you some relief in the past. But I know for me, and others I've talked to, this little limerick comes rolling off the tongue of some well-meaning friend or interloper right when you've received a dump truck's load of rejection, missed opportunity, or some other bad news. It just rings hollow. 

The school rejected you. He dumped you. The job promotion got passed to her instead of you. I know, it sucks. And the last thing you want to hear? Some cream-puffy, cloud-fluffy, nonsense about your life being a series of doors or windows...or whatever...that some heavenly being is fatefully opening or shutting on you as you try each door, test each lock, jiggle each handle in wave-after-wave of dejection, denial, and seemingly divine deception. 

What kind of God plays that stupid game anyways? Is that really what God is all about? Closing doors and opening others? Prompting us through some celestial cheese maze? Maybe, maybe not. 

At least in this antiphon, he's about opening doors. Wide. That's what we are going to focus on today.

O Key of David and scepter of the house of Israel, You open and no one can close, You close and no one can open: Come and rescue the prisoners who are in darkness and the shadow of death. 

O clavis David, et sceptrum domus Israel: qui aperis, et nemo claudit; claudis, et nemo aperit: veni, et educ vinctum de domo carceris, sedentem in tenebris.

Yes, God closes doors. He shuts them. But this verse ends on liberation. It's denouement is divine pardon. The lock clicks in favor of the captive. The gate swings wide open. Freedom. 

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Merry Christmas everyone! 

I can't help but think of my dog Pepper at this moment. When we take her to the dog park or we let her outside she sits in a mix of anticipation and longing...waiting for the moment the door opens and independence is hers. When the sliding glass door runs its course backwards or the chain link fence gate creaks on its hinges and provides the open pathway she's gone. Zoom. Like a flash of white lightning across the grass. She barks. She jumps. She chases squirrels. We call out to her as she pushes the boundaries, tests the limits of her rein. She's free and she loves it. 

My favorite moment? When she has run her course a bit and she comes trotting back up to us, tongue laggard and panting, with a smile that says, "Thank you guys. I love you." 

Is it just me or is there a picture of a divine covenant here? The Key of David opens the door that no one closes. He permits us to go free. He unleashes us. We push boundaries. We chase the metaphorical squirrels of this life. He calls out to us, in love and reprimand, but we always run back in gasping adoration to the one we know has set us free. 

I pray that is what this Christmas is for you. For me. That in the freedom that the Key of David has given us we might circle back to enjoy the presence of the Master - "to thank the Lord and sing his praise" (Ps 92). 

Amen. Come, you peoples of the earth, come. 

O Adonai; come with an outstretched arm and redeem us

O Adonai and ruler the house of Israel, who appeared to Moses in the burning bush and gave him the law on Sinai: Come with an outstretched arm and redeem us. 

O Adonai, et Dux domus Israel, qui Moysi in igne flammae rubi apparuisti, et ei in Sina legem dedisti: veni ad redimendum nos in brachio extento.

Ten years ago I stepped into Karlskirche and felt a chill go down my spine beholding the masterful altarpiece conceived by Johann Fishcher von Erlach and completed by his son, Joseph Emmanuel Fischer von Erlach. Backlit by natural light with marble statues surrounding and gold rays emanating from the center, the tetragrammaton - YHWH - is inscribed en absentia for light to pour through (see above).

*This post is part of a series on the #OAntiphons. To read part one, click here. 

Yahweh. The unutterable name of G-d. Over time, the rabbis would conceive of ways to convey, but not to speak, the name of G-d. They placed various "vowels" - breathing marks - to bring about various pronunciations, including Jehovah. To distinguish YHWH from adonai, another name for master, or lord, they used all capital letters - LORD. 

Still, both words LORD (YHWH) and Lord (Adonai) express the unspeakable power of God, the awe of his presence before Moses in the burning bush, and his sheer holy charisma. 

That presence is what imbues this Antiphon today.

With the cry, "O Adonai," the antiphon recalls God's potency, his immensity, even his wrath. Yet, it does not imagine him as some transcendent deity, some far removed master. Instead, Adonai (Lord) is imminent, close at hand, present. 

But not just present, present in powerful ways. In a burning bush and "with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm." (Ex 6:6; Deut 26:8; Ps 136:12) 

This antiphon speaks not only of God's might, but his power to save. It testifies to the Lord's willingness to flex his might according to his promise, on behalf of his people. It confesses, and calls upon, the Lord's forceful intervention to liberate, deliver, and redeem.

It coyly alludes to the exodus of the Hebrew slaves from the hands of Pharaoh, the contest between the God of the Hebrew people and the Pharaoh, the Lord, of Egypt and master of the cosmos. It hints that the hand of God not only neutralized the natural forces of the cosmos in the plagues, but even smote the greatest power known to humankind at the time - the Pharaoh and his family. 

This narrative is the central story of the Jewish people. The line alluded to, "with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm" is of great value in Judaic tradition and is a symbol used as part of the Passover Haggadah - the Seder meal. Rabbis reflect that the liberating power of the Lord on their behalf is twofold - with a strong hand he snatches them from their enslaved past, with the outstretched arm he delivers them out of evil and into a peaceful future. 

Our prayer today might be the same. Whether we call out "O Adonai, come with an outstretched arm and redeem us" or simply, "Lord, deliver us from evil" as we look around and scour the headlines we see much evil to be redeemed from.

Children massacred in Peshawar, innocent hostages murdered in Sydney, injustice in our homeland, Ebola wreaking havoc and killing thousands in West Africa, cancer attacking those too young, marriages rending at the seams, and the list goes on...

To this we pray "O Adonai, come with an outstretched arm and redeem us." With your mighty hand snatch us away from the painful present; with an outstretched arm deliver us from evil and grant us a peaceful future. This is the prayer of Advent. The prayer said in the waiting days before the coming of Christ.

And to this oration he responds, "Tomorrow, I will come. Tomorrow, I will come with a mighty hand to liberate all humankind. Tomorrow, I will come with an outstretched arm and deliver you from evil." And so we cry aloud, "Come, Adonai, quickly come." 

*Continue to follow along with Ken's daily mediations on the O Antiphons in the days leading up to Christmas by subscribing to the blog or following Ken on Twitter. 

O Antiphons - when Advent calls out for Christmas

From now until Christmas the O Antiphons are the Advent call for the coming of the Messiah, at Christmas and at the eschaton - the last of days. Each antiphon begins with the interjection "O," an exclamation of hope, expectance, excitement, and need. Each antiphon culminates with a call for the Messiah to come. As Christmas draws nigh, the cry beckons more urgently.

Originally composed in 7th- or 8th-century C.E. by monks who merged texts from the Hebrew Testament with the hopes of the New Testament, the antiphons were meant to help the world look to the coming of salvation in Christ Jesus - then, now, and in the future. Popular in the Middle Ages, when monastic choirs sang the antiphons in chorus with the great bells of cathedrals, the antiphons are also an acrostic. Together, the antiphons weave a rich tapestry of scriptural metaphors and images and provide a masterful mosaic of meditations leading up to the celebration of Christmas.

Yet the cries for the coming of Christ do not fall on deaf ears. There is a response embedded in the orations as well. The first Latin letter of each invocation (backwards) forms the phrase ero cras (Emmanuel - Rex - Oriens | Clavis - Radix - Adonai - Sapientia). The line is, indeed, the response of Christ to the calls of Advent, "Tomorrow, I will be there." 

With that response assured, let us together pray aloud and think upon the "O Antiphons" over the subsequent seven days. Each day until Christmas I will be posting an O Antiphon with its full verse and an image to meditate upon. 

And so, an expectant Advent and a Happy Christmas to all of you!

"O Wisdom, proceeding from the mouth of the Most High, pervading and permeating all creation, mightily ordering all things: Come and teach us the way of prudence." 

O Sapientia, quae ex ore Altissimi prodidisti, attingens a fine usque ad finem, fortiter suaviter disponensque omnia: veni ad docendum nos viam prudentiae. 

A foreigner at the table: migrating through the Velija

I am a foreigner at this table. A sojourner making my way through a labyrinth of strange foods and unfamiliar custom. 

It is Christmas Eve — a traditional time for traditional foods like hot cocoa, cranberry sauce, and cookies…certainly not a “Christmas” carp. And yet, it is carp we eat, at least for now. Besides the carp we will dine on kapusta (sauerkraut or cabbage), “baby Jesus food” (oatmeal or Cream of Wheat), hay rolls, pirohy (pirogies), stuffed prunes, and bitter vegetables. While there are cookies and sweets awaiting at the end of this strange feast — flaky pockets of poppy seed and cherry Solo jam (kolacky), a spiced nut roll (orechovnik), and zazvorniky ginger cookies — they are not your typical Christmas sweet course. 

Yes, there is much to come. For now, we begin humbly. At the head of the table, Paul passes the oplatky shipped in from Slovakia and imprinted with saintly images of Jesus, Mary, magi, shepherds, stables, and a single star. The light wafer touches everyone’s hands, passed around the table with respect and reverence, attended by silent smiles and centuries of meaning making. Finally, it reaches me — the newcomer, the outsider, the foreigner. Once everyone has oplatky in their hands Paul invites us to don the mass-like bread with a dollop of honey. Many of us do, to help the wafer make its way past the roof of our mouth where it strives to stick. Then, the blessing. Paul prays for family, friends, with thanksgiving, and for blessing. Amen. Veselé Vionece! Merry Christmas! 

For second and third generation Slovaks and other West Slavic people (Czechs, Poles, some Russians, etc.) in the U.S., the velija — a representative meal of remembrance of the nativity narrative of Jesus of Nazareth and his parents Joseph and Mary — is a staple of Christmas festivities. Deviating from the customary “American” holiday meal, the velija is a tradition still celebrated by select Slovaks and Czechs as a connection to the “home country,” their childhood memories, and an homage to the ethnic identity forged in urban enclaves in Chicago, Cleveland, Newark, New York, and Pittsburgh in the beginning of the 20th-century.

“When I am preparing the meal, it is my connection to everyone who has gone before me,” said Treena Rowan, a Slovak connected to the Czech Center and Museum in Houston, Texas. “Everyone in the old country still makes the meal and so do I, we are connected this way,” she said.

Akin to the didactic nature of the Jewish Seder meal, the velija is a representative feast, literally a Christmas “vigil,” with each portion symbolizing a part of the Christmas narrative and the life of Jesus. While traditions in different households vary, there are a few staple selections. Before the meal begins, many families place hay on, or under, the table to remember the manger and leave an extra place at the table for a traveling stranger or deceased relative. After prayers and blessings, the eldest person in the household, or the father of the family, passes around oplatky, a communion-like wafer imprinted with images from the Nativity topped with honey. “This symbolizes the sweetness of Christ and Christmas,” said Rowan, “the pictures look like little postcards from the original Christmas.”

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Oplatky, fresh from Slovakia. 

Following the oplatky and making the sign of the cross with honey on the forehead, the family starts in on other courses including kapusta (a sauerkraut and mushroom soup), representing the bitterness of Christ’s suffering, pirohy dumplings filled with sauerkraut, potato, cheese or lekvar (prunes) and carp. While carp is not readily available in the U.S., many families still eat fish, betraying the meal’s Catholic intonations connected to that church’s traditions of fasting during the season of Advent (the 40 days prior to Christmas, a time of reflection, anticipation, expectation, and hope). The whole meal is accompanied with wine, for luck and in remembrance of Jesus’ sacrifice. At the close of the meal, families enjoy kolacky, strudels filled with poppyseed, nuts or fruit filling and wrapped in such a way as to hearken back to the baby Jesus wrapped in swaddling clothes. There are also nut rolls and bobalky, stuffed dough balls, to eat while children sing kolady, or Christmas carols. Zazvornikys may be served with coffee or tea as the family and friend settle in, but that is an American addition, where coffee is king. 

While the traditions may vary from house-to-house, or from culture-to-culture, every family who keeps the velija shares the same sentiments. Linda Steinbart (nee Gereg), a third generation Slovak, celebrates the velija every year as she has done her entire life. She reflected, “This meal was handed down from my Grandma Cepela, to my mom, and now I carry on the traditional meal. It was and continues to be a time of bonding with family on Christmas Eve.”

It is with Linda and her family that I celebrated my first velija, but not my last. I married into this seriously Slovak family, wedding Linda’s daughter Elizabeth. Or, in Slovak transliteration, Elszebet. She hopes that, as a transplant, I not only appreciate the tradition, but carry it on in our family for years to come. So potent is their Slovak bloodline that despite my European mutt heritage (English, German, Norwegian, and Scottish) our own children would still be half-Slovak. 

Steinbart intimates that it is our obligation to institute the velija in our own family. Being the only member of her family who continues to put on the velija, she believes the tradition is dying off. She said that the addition of spouses, grandchildren and relocation has all changed the meal and dampened the desire to learn about the family’s Slovak heritage or celebrate the traditional Christmas Eve meal. This has led to difficulties in finding rare items like the imprinted oplatky. “Our main source, a Catholic Church in Chicago, closed,” she said, “before computers it took hours of research and networking to locate sources for oplatky.”

Even though the meal changed and the tradition is waning, she makes the effort each year, “When mom died the tradition become less important, but I could not let go of the warm memories and to this day I bring extended family into our home to share this wonderful meal.” She prays that her children will carry on the Slovak tradition.

In Houston, a young woman by the name of Julie Marencic, a fourth generation Slovak, cooks pirohy and passes the oplatky each year in her household as well. Having since been married and moved to Houston for work and study, my wife and I celebrate the velija with Julie and her husband Andy, their children Paul and Elyse. Just as we passed the oplatky with family in Phoenix, we now share in the meaning of the meal with these friends become family because of our shared Slovak heritage. Asked whether the tradition is dying off, Marencic replied, “I am fortunate to be married to someone who has similar traditions to my family.” For Marencic and all those who maintain the velija, it is the only way they can imagine celebrating the sacred winter holidays.

“Something about going through the old ways, your body, your mind and your heart respond to it. There is something in the DNA that says, ‘this is how you celebrate Christmas,’” said Treena Rowan. For those with Slovak heritage, the velija and other Slavic Christmas traditions may be the only thing that connects them to their ancestral roots. For that reason alone, it is worth the effort to resurrect long-established recipes and to put on the meal for family and friends.

Mary-Ellen Fillo, a popular radio personality, said, “I never celebrate the Slovak side of my heritage except on Christmas Eve.” She said, “As distanced as I am from my ancestors, there is a peace to celebrating roots, even for one night. And there is comfort in having family around you and sharing in something that is personal and warm as you remember what the evening is all about.”

As some Slovaks move away from the velija and others pine for what is lost in cultural transmission, this foreigner has migrated through this meal. Rootless in heritage, without any strong Christmas traditions other than what popular culture and Coca-Cola has given me, I have moved into the Slovak world, and fellowshipping with a new family and yoking myself with new friends, through the meal. 

This year, I am no longer a stranger. My wife bakes the kolackys and zazvornikys, Julie rolls the orechnovik, and Andy and I fight over the last of the lekvar — the stuffed prunes. The wrestling gets more playfully forceful as the wine continues to flow. I hide the hay for the children to discover and beam with pride over the zazvorniky stars that I myself rolled out to bake. But, significantly, I no longer sit at the right of Paul, my father-in-law, but instead I open the oplatky and pass it around. I am the one who speaks the blessing and explains the meaning of the courses. To my right is Paul, Andy's young son. As the oplatky rests in his hands he novicely looks to me with a quizzical look. I grab the honey, place some on the wafer bearing the theotokos — the image of Mary, “the mother of God” — and, as a migrant into an imagined Slovak-American community, pass on a tradition that transports those at table through time and space — to Slovakia, Chicago, and Bethlehem.

Can Christians celebrate Diwali?

The lights are hung, the candles lit, the feast prepared, the New Year is almost here, families gather and the children wait to hear the dramatic re-telling of stories from the ancient past. No, it is not Christmas, nor is it Hanukkah or Kwanzaa; steeped in mythical tales, religious devotion, and socio-cultural importance it is the Hindu festival of Diwali, celebrated in India and throughout its diaspora spread across the world.

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Diwali is celebrated by several religious groups including Sikhs, Jains and even some Buddhists, but its roots are thoroughly Hindu. For Sikhs it is a commemoration of “the day of freedom” when one of their revered gurus, Guru Har Gobind Ji was released from imprisonment. Jains celebrate Diwali to mark Mahavira’s moksha (enlightenment) -- the last of the tirthankara (enlightened ones). For Hindus the festival is the beginning of a New Year, a time for prosperity and new ventures, a celebration of the brother-sister relationship and the prevalence of truth over falsehood and light overcoming the darkness.

This meaning for the five-day festival is derived from several Hindu accounts. However, it centers around the account of the victory of Lord Krishna over the demon Narkasura. Other gods and goddesses, including the goddess of wealth (Lakshmi), are worshipped during Diwali, but above all it is a celebration of the victory of life, light and lightheartedness over nefarious 'Narkasuran' forces. 

With a South Asian population of about 3 million, there are significant Diwali celebrations going on throughout the U.S. this week. Local Hindu and Jain temples and Sikh gurudwaras will host Diwali celebrations featuring hundreds of lights and lanterns, Indian curries and festive music played on harmoniums (keyboard), tablas (drum) and tambours (a stringed instrument). For many Asian Indians living in the diaspora, Diwali is not only religious, but steeped in socio-cultural significance and celebrations of South Asian identity.

With this in mind Pramod Aghamkar, Executive Director of Satsang Ministries, started celebrating "Christian Diwalis" a few yeas ago in Dayton, Ohio. The Christian Diwali in Dayton is an effort on his part to immerse himself in native Asian-Indian culture and add the concepts and ideologies of the Christian worldview.

“The festival of Diwali provides the necessary framework, structure and organic occasion to proclaim Christ as the light of the world” said Aghamkar. “It gives stepping stones, clues and redemptive analogies for cross-cultural witness.”

Drawing inspiration from those Christians who redeemed pagan festivals and symbols to make Easter (eggs, new life) and Christmas (the evergreen tree bedecked with lights) what they are today, Aghamkar hopes to redeem the symbols and practices of Diwali for the sake of Christian witness. For him Diwali “is a native tool that still remains undeveloped by Indian Christians.” To tap into this potential, Aghamkar hosts a Christian Diwali in South Asian family settings each year and now encourages other Indian Christian leaders to do the same in other cities.

One city where Indian Christian leaders are not so receptive to this idea is Houston.

Asked about the possibility of Christian Diwali celebrations in Houston, a South Asian pastor from The Woodlands demurred, “it is a major Hindu festival, Christ is not part of the celebration.”

“Whenever possible I seek the Scriptures for knowledge and direction” said the pastor. “I am not sure there is any place in the Scriptures where it talks about redeeming a heathen idea.”

Another Houston man, Vidyasagar Garnepudi, feels the tension and the temptation to celebrate a "Christian Diwali." He said, "every Indian child's dream is to participate in Diwali, it's a victory over darkness, a festival of lights, it's firing off the firecrackers."

*Read a personal account of the meaning of Diwali

Despite the desire to participate in the celebration, he lamented that "as Christians we should not celebrate Diwali. However, we do rejoice with our neighbor as India is a secular nation."  

Aghamkar hears and understands these objections, but believes the practice of  Christian Diwali is still a viable custom. “Non-Hindu accounts show Diwali to be a flexible, multi-faceted festival” he said, “the form of celebration is not intrinsically Hindu, Jain or Sikh….though the principles are ‘non-Christian,’ they are not ‘un-Christian.’”

He also cautions that while the music, lights, food and stories may be similar between Hindu and Christian celebrations, the traditional Hindu gods and Sikh and Jain teachers are not lauded, but instead it is Christ who is the hero of the story who dispels the darkness and brings light and life. “It is not shifting from radical rejection to wholesale acceptance” said Aghamkar, but it is a way for “the Indian community to experience Jesus in a native way.”

Some scholars of South Asian religion and Hindu traditions I spoke with offered some perspective as they debated the saliency of a "Christian Diwali." One offered, "it's one thing for a Christian to come to a temple and celebrate the ritual, taking away the nitty-gritty of the myth, just as a general celebration of victory of good over evil...it's another to use a Hindu tradition to advance Christianity." The same individual asked, "how would a Christian react if Easter was used to further Hindu ideas and motives?"

Another participant in the academic dialogue offered that since, in India, Christianity is a minority religion, "this might be an expression of having to find their way in a world that is primarily Hindu."

Perhaps even still, this is part of a wider dialogue on the secular and/or religious nature of Diwali and whether or not Diwali is losing its religious significance in favor of more secular or purely culturally mechanic communal practices and personal rituals. 

WHAT DO YOU THINK? CAN CHRISTIANS “REDEEM” DIWALI? SHOULD THE HOLIDAY BE LEFT FOR HINDUS, SIKHS AND JAINS TO CELEBRATE? WHAT ARE YOUR DIWALI TRADITIONS?

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