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Note: this week’s offering is related to an earlier Christmas Unwrapped that focused on the nativity. This moves on to how Christmas became a Christian holiday in the Roman empire.
Perhaps no earthly season calls to peace more than the stillness of winter. It is in the earliest days of winter when Christians celebrate the birth of Jesus. While much of what we know about the birth of Jesus comes from the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, nonbiblical sources provide context that helps historians understand the world into which Jesus was born.
According to the Bible, Jesus was born during the reign of Caesar Augustus, the first emperor of Rome, who ruled from 27 BCE to 14 CE. Historical records note that Augustus’s reign marked a period of relative peace, but it was also a time of significant political and social control. The land where Jesus was born was under Roman occupation, governed locally by figures like King Herod the Great. Herod was known for the ambitious building he did as a ruler, including the reconstruction of the Temple in Jerusalem. Unfortunately, his harsh policies to maintain power led to great hardship for the people living under his rule, especially those who were enslaved in the Roman empire. Herod is also the evil ruler in the story of Jesus's birth in the Bible, where he orders all male infants and toddlers executed in anger. The only source of this Massacre of the Infants happened wrote of it nearly three hundred years later, but all records of Herod support him being a man who would react in anger and bitterness.
The enslavement of the Jewish people and the lived reality of slavery under Roman rule cannot be removed from the story of Jesus. Under Roman rule, Jewish men serves as slave labor from the time they entered adulthood until they turned thirty years old. This provides an obvious reason for the gap in the writings about the historical man Jesus. He disappeared as a slave when he was twelve and reappears as a man of thirty.
There are traces of Jesus in other historical records. Roman historians Tacitus and Suetonius, writing in the late 1st and early 2nd centuries, provide brief but significant references to Jesus. Tacitus, in his Annals, describes the execution of “Christus” under Pontius Pilate during the reign of Tiberius. While this account focuses on Jesus’s death, it affirms his existence and the early spread of Christianity. Suetonius, in The Twelve Caesars, mentions disturbances in Rome caused by followers of “Chrestus,” likely a reference to early Christians.
Nonbiblical sources like Jewish historian Flavius Josephus mention Herod extensively, shedding light on the political tensions and oppressive environment in which many Jews lived. Although Josephus and these other sources do not specifically reference Jesus’s birth, their accounts provide a backdrop of a people yearning for liberation, dreaming of a long-promised Messiah, which validates his historical presence and highlights the social unrest and transformative impact of his followers in the decades after his life.
In many ways, Jesus and his followers model a similar pattern repeated through history, recently experienced when the Jim Crow experiences of a post-Civil War United States led the descendants of another enslaved people to rise in the Civil Rights movement. Eventually the weight of discrimination and persecution leads to a demand for a new world, a new way.
The Bible book Luke connects Jesus’s birth to a Roman census ordered by Caesar Augustus, requiring Joseph and Mary to travel to Bethlehem. While there is no direct corroboration of this census in Roman records, historians recognize that periodic censuses were indeed a feature of Roman administration, particularly in client states like Judea. Bethlehem was the prophesied birthplace of the Messiah in Jewish tradition.
From a historical perspective, Jesus’s birth likely went unnoticed by the powerful figures of his time. Yet, his life and teachings would inspire a movement that spread rapidly across the Roman Empire, challenging both religious and political systems. The juxtaposition of his modest origins with his profound influence underscores the transformative power of his message.
This historical lens reminds us that the Christmas story, while deeply rooted in faith, also unfolds within the complexities of real-world events. Understanding this context enriches our appreciation of the holiday, connecting the divine narrative to the lived experiences of humanity.
As Christianity began to spread throughout the Roman Empire, it encountered a tapestry of existing beliefs and customs. Instead of erasing these traditions, early Christian leaders wisely chose to adapt and re frame them within the context of their faith. This approach not only fostered inclusivity but also allowed for a seamless blending of old and new practices.
One striking example is the transformation of Roman temples into Christian churches. Temples dedicated to deities like Vesta or Diana were rededicated to figures such as the Virgin Mary, creating continuity for communities grappling with spiritual transition. Mary herself came to embody traits familiar to worshippers of Roman goddesses: nurturing, protective, and central to the fabric of life. Some of the smaller, remote villages in Greece and other regions of the Roman empire, churches now dedicated to the Virgin Mary maintain rituals that began as rites to other deities hundreds of years before Christianity began.
Similarly, the decision to celebrate Jesus’s birth in late December coincided with existing Roman festivities like Saturnalia and Sol Invictus. Saturnalia, a time of feasting, merriment, and gift-giving, was rich with communal joy. By reimagining these traditions, early Christians infused them with theological meaning, centering them on the story of Jesus's birth—a moment that represented hope, humility, and divine generosity.
This blending of traditions was not merely practical; it was deeply symbolic. The early church recognized that the birth of Jesus was not a historical event to be celebrated in isolation, but a divine act meant to transform and renew. The gifts brought by the Magi to the Christ child—gold, frankincense, and myrrh—became archetypes of sacred giving, reminding Christians to offer what is most precious as an act of faith and love.
And – it cannot be dismissed that this also aligned with the goals of the Roman empire. By centering that level of pious dedication, the roman empire transformed into the Holy Roman Empire that generated and built the Catholic church, eventually generating the Doctrine of Discovery and colonization. This eventual event began by the Roman empire aligning with a religion that had been formed by Paul to teach that refusal to follow the commitments it asked led to eternal damnation and suffering. Rome merged this with a message that the European followers of the Pope in Rome were the new chosen people of God, leading to centuries of persecution and harm directed at the Jewish people.
Repeatedly, Rome gained Christian converts by not challenging, but connecting the faith to traditions the other spiritual and religious traditions practiced, whether those were Celtic, Viking, or Roman. Gift giving, usually to gods and deities, was important in many of those other traditions. The people of Mesopotamia, including the Sumerians, Akkadians, Babylonians, and Assyrians, offered gifts to their gods in temples. These gifts included food, livestock, precious metals, and crafted goods. The Celts gave offerings during their major seasonal festivals, such as Samhain and Beltane, to honor their gods and ensure harmony with nature. But Christianity taught that Jesus made the ultimate gift, gave the ultimate price so that no sacrificial lambs ever needed to be gifted to a god again.
At its heart, the tradition of gift-giving during Christmas is an expression of that divine generosity. It reflects the Christian belief that God gave the ultimate gift—Jesus Christ—as an embodiment of unconditional love and redemption. This act inspires believers to give not out of obligation, but from a place of gratitude, humility, and joy.
The Magi’s gifts were not transactional but deeply symbolic, honoring Jesus’s identity and mission. Similarly, when we give gifts with intention and love, we mirror this sacred exchange, prioritizing relationships, and spiritual connection over material value. They gifted the same elements used by human leaders when they are crowned as king or queen, and they are used in ritual blessing of priests. The Magi gave wealthy materials designating the birth of a king (that likely were sold to support the family when they were forced to flee into Egypt), but the Magi also brought the gift of acceptance and a warning for them to flee to safety.
Today, Christmas is often overshadowed by commercialism, where gift-giving can feel more like a financial burden than a spiritual act. The pressure to buy expensive or excessive presents has, for many, eclipsed the original intent of the tradition.
However, the historical roots of Christmas remind us that gift-giving is not about the price tag but about the heart. It reflects our relationships, our values, and our desire to build a more compassionate and connected world. When we give thoughtfully—whether it’s a handmade item, a meaningful note, or even the gift of time—we reclaim the true spirit of the season.
Remembering the history of Christmas invites us to return to the essence of gift-giving: an act of love, not obligation; a gesture of connection, not competition. When we shift the focus from materialism to meaning, we honor the early church’s legacy of transformation and renewal, things that were largely lost under centuries of empire church.
This reclamation is especially vital in today’s world, where social and economic inequalities often starkly contrast with the holiday’s messages of hope and generosity. By reimagining gift-giving as a heart activity, we align ourselves with the teachings of Jesus and the values of the Beloved Community—a vision of justice, equity, and love that transcends time and place.
That means the true gifts of Christmas are not about making sure every person has their every want filled, but creating a world where every being has every need met.
Between 330 and 379 CE, Basil the Great wrote, “Fling wide your doors; give your wealth free passage everywhere! As a great river flows by a thousand channels through fertile country, so let your wealth run through many conduits to the homes of the poor. Wells that are drawn from flow the better; left unused, they go foul…Money kept standing idle is worthless; but moving and changing hands it benefits the community and brings increase…”
This should be a warning. The trumpet call to a just world that Christmas generates cannot be aligned with material wealth and hoarding – in fact hoarding is the very gluttony theologians warn against.
Robin Wall Kimmerer reminds us of the lessons we can find in the trees. “The trees act not as individuals, but somehow as a collective. Exactly how they do this, we don’t yet know. But what we see is the power of unity. What happens to one happens to us all. We can starve together or feast together.”
The trees also teach us this true gift of Christmas, a reminder that we all need to refocus and create a world where all can thrive, not where some are forced to survive so that a few can have a few more zeros noted in their accumulated wealth. If you are a Christian, this means that the created world reflects the call Jesus makes to your heart to give to others. If you are an atheist or agnostic, the message remains the same, asking you what gifts you will deliver to the earth that surrounds you. And if you believe other spiritual or religious traditions, this call is likely echoed in one of your own core tenets or rituals. This call to give is not and has never been exclusive to Christianity, but it is brightly reflected within that tradition even as it obscured by those advocating for toxic hoarding of wealth as their deserved benefit of identifying as a Christian.
As we exchange gifts this Christmas, let us do so with intention and reflection. A gift, no matter how small, has the power to convey love, gratitude, and solidarity. It can be an act of resistance against the pressures of consumerism and a reaffirmation of the deeper meanings behind the holiday. Who needs a shared story? Who needs a warm dinner invitation? Who needs a hug? Who needs a reminder that they are beautiful and perfect as they are? What can you do to gift those things to someone else?
This season, may we honor the history of giving, as a living, evolving practice. Let us remember the resilience of those who lived before and the wisdom of those who risked everything to transform old customs into vessels of new hope. In doing so, we recommit ourselves to the work of creating a world rooted in love, justice, and unity—a true reflection of the Beloved Community.
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