O Tannenbaum
I like old movies. There’s something comforting about those old black and white celluloid trips to the past, to a better time when people were nice to each other and nearly all believed in God and went to church on Sundays. They’re especially reassuring around this time of year. From Miracle on 34th Street to It’s a Wonderful Life they capture the spirit of the Christmas season, a spirit which has unfortunately become the Spirit of Christmas Past. As for the Spirit of Christmas Present, we know quite well what that’s all about. We know it as soon as we walk into the mall or any of the big department stores to do our Christmas shopping. What do we hear? Things have changed beyond recognition since the black-and-white days when the air was filled with the singing of carolers and the playing of brass bands, the sound of those old familiar Christmas carols like Adeste Fideles and Silent Night. Today all we hear are secular Christmas songs. “Do you hear what I hear?” We “just hear those sleigh bells jingling,” as “here comes Santa Claus,” merrily tearing through the streets and running over Grandma with his reindeer. Thank you but I prefer to be dreaming of a White Christmas just like the ones I used to know. The other songs are all very nice, and they have their place, but when they have completely replaced any mention of the true meaning of Christmas and the Christ Child in the manger, we become painfully aware that all this new stuff is part of the agenda to drive all things religious out of the common consciousness. Christmas without Christ is now a semi-official part of our Brave New Woke World, and each year there are fewer and fewer people who actually do remember those Christmases from long ago when it seemed like there was a nativity scene at every street corner.
Fortunately, there’s something still left to help us remember! It’s a reminder that you still see everywhere and in every home but which is not particularly religious, perhaps the reason it has survived the axe of the woke for so long. I’m almost hesitant to bring it up in case words gets out that this piece of Christmas is actually a reminder to good Christian men of better times. I refer to the Christmas Tree. They’ve been trying to rename it a Holiday Tree for a few years now, but it hasn’t caught on, and the annual lighting of Christmas trees in our homes and churches still continues even in the most secular and profane of places, like Rockefeller Center and the White House.
So what is it about a Christmas Tree that reminds us of the true meaning of Christmas? We need to go back a long way, long before even those black-and-white movies, all the way to medieval Europe. In the Middle Ages, when there were no movies, no television or radio, people had to entertain themselves in various ways. One of the most popular forms of entertainment was the medieval Mystery Play, a kind of theatrical performance played out by amateur actors in the market places of the towns and villages. One of these Mystery Plays was held every year to commemorate our first parents Adam and Eve. That day was December 24, Christmas Eve. And that Mystery Play was called “The Tree of Paradise”, in which a tree was decorated with apples (representing fruit from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and thus the original sin that Christ took away) and round white wafers (to represent the Eucharist and our Redemption). Eventually, these paradise trees were placed in people’s homes, and the red apples were replaced by round objects such as shiny red balls.
We can thank the Portuguese for being the first we know of to add lights to the tree on Christmas Eve. It was there in their monastery in Portugal that the Regiment of the local high-Sacristans of the Cistercian Order began the custom of placing blood-red oranges on the branches and placing in every orange a candle. The tree was placed next to the candle of the High Altar and came to represent by its candles the arrival of the Light of the World at the first Christmas while the color of the blood-orange symbolized our Redemption purchased by the Blood of the Saviour.
In the 8th century, we have the story of St. Boniface and the oak tree. The pagan Norsemen of Scandinavia and Germany used to worship trees. St. Boniface, the apostle of Germany, famously chopped down one of these pagan idols, an oak tree known as Donar’s Oak. Folklore tradition adds the detail that an evergreen tree miraculously grew in place of the felled oak. The evergreen fir tree came to represent the Holy Trinity, with its triangular shape pointing up to heaven, something we should think about as we proudly display our Christmas tree in the living room.
We do not worship the tree as the Norsemen of old. But whenever we turn our Christmas tree lights on, we should remember that this is no mere Christmas decoration. Look to the angel at the top of the tree, the messenger of God taking our prayers heavenward. Or maybe you don’t have an angel but a star? The Star of Bethlehem guiding us to the stable where the Christ Child is born. All those beautiful lights turning our home into a place of beauty, reminding us of the Light of the world now dwelling amongst us on this Christmas morning.
The Christmas Tree is full of messages, and at some point, it would be a good idea to pay attention to the words of that old German carol O Tannenbaum—O Fir Tree. It’s been translated into English as “O Christmas Tree” but there are different versions, more or less resembling the old German words, some entirely secular in nature. But the best translation conveys something far deeper. “O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum, wie treu sind deine Blätter.”—“O Christmas tree, o Christmas tree, how faithfully you blossom. Through summer’s heat and winter’s chill, your leaves are green and blooming still.” Back in the days of old, when man lived according to the cycles of nature, they looked around in the bleak midwinter to see almost all the trees of the forest lying dormant, dead to the world. Only the evergreen trees, the fir and the spruce, remained in full blossom. These trees we use as our Christmas trees do not lose their leaves but remain green throughout the dark winter months. “When winter days are dark and drear, you bring us hope for all the year. That faith and hope shall ever bloom to bring us light in winter’s gloom…”
To bring us light in winter’s gloom… What message could be more helpful to us in the winter’s gloom of these post-Vatican II years when the apostates of Rome are lined up against us in full battle dress, making war on Christ and his Church. Let’s take the silent message of our Christmas tree and make it our own battle cry, that we may always shine bright with the light of truth in our dark world, that we always keep our leaves of faith green and healthy, even as the trees around us lose theirs; that we never lose hope in the dread gloom of a sinful world. Never forget the last words of the carol: “O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree, you bear a joyful message.”