
Christmas Tree Origins
By Fr. William P. Saunders
Herald Columnist
(From the issue of 12/19/02)
Where did the Christmas tree come from? A religious
education student in Potomac Falls
The story of the Christmas tree is part of the story of the life of St.
Boniface, whose name was originally Winfrid. St. Boniface was born about the year 680 in
Devonshire, England. At the age of 5, he wanted to become a monk, and entered the
monastery school near Exeter two years later. When he was 14, he entered the abbey of
Nursling, in the Diocese of Winchester. Very studious himself, St. Boniface was the pupil
of the learned abbot, Winbert. Later Boniface became the director of the school.
At this time, much of northern and central Europe still had not been
evangelized. St. Boniface decided he wanted to be a missionary to these people. After one
brief attempt, he sought the official approval of Pope St. Gregory II. The pope charged
him with preaching the Gospel to the German people. (Also at this time, St. Boniface
changed his name from Winfrid to Boniface.) St. Boniface travelled to Germany through the
Alps into Bavaria and then into Hesse and Thuringia. In 722, the pope consecrated St.
Boniface as a bishop with jurisdiction over all of Germany. He knew that his greatest
challenge was to eradicate pagan superstitions which hindered the acceptance of the Gospel
and the conversion of the people. Known as "the Apostle to Germany," he would
continue to preach the gospel until he was martyred in 754. At this point we can begin our
story about the Christmas tree.
With his band of faithful followers, St. Boniface was traveling through
the woods along an old Roman road one Christmas Eve. Snow covered the ground, muffling
their footsteps. Their breath could be seen in the crisp, cold air. Although several
suggested that they camp for the night, St. Boniface encouraged them to push forward,
saying, "Courage, brothers, and forward yet a little. God's moon will light us
presently, and the path is plain. Well know I that you are weary; and my own heart wearies
also for the home in England, where those I love so dearly are keeping feast this
Christmas Eve. Oh, that I might escape from this wild, storm-tossed sea of Germany into
the peaceful haven of my fatherland! But we have work to do before we feast tonight. For
this is the Yule-tide, and the heathen people of the forest have gathered at the Oak of
Geismar to worship their god, Thor; and strange things will be seen there, and deeds which
make the soul black. But we are sent to lighten their darkness; and we will teach our
kinsmen to keep a Christmas with us such as the woodland has never known. Forward, then,
in God's name!"
They pushed ahead, reinvigorated by St. Boniface's plea. After a while,
the road opened to a clearing. They could see houses, but dark and seemingly vacant. No
human was in sight. Only the noise of hounds and horses broke the quiet. Continuing on,
they came to a glade in the forest, and there appeared the sacred Thunder Oak of Geismar.
"Here," St. Boniface proclaimed as he held is bishop's crozier high with its
cross on top, "here is the Thunder-oak; and here the cross of Christ shall break the
hammer of the false god Thor."
In front of the tree was a huge bonfire. Sparks danced in the air. The
townspeople surrounded the fire facing the sacred oak. St. Boniface interrupted their
meeting, "Hail, sons of the forest! A stranger claims the warmth of your fire in the
winter night." As St. Boniface and his companions approached the fire, the eyes of
the townspeople were on these strangers. St. Boniface continued, "Your kinsman am I,
of the German brotherhood and from Wessex, beyond the sea, have I come to bring you a
greeting from that land, and a message from the All-Father, whose servant I am."
Hunrad, the old priest of Thor, welcomed St. Boniface and his
companions. Hunrad then said to them, "Stand still, common man, and behold what the
gods have called us hither to do! This night is the death-night of the sun-god, Baldur the
Beautiful, beloved of gods and men. This night is the hour of darkness and the power of
winter, of sacrifice and mighty fear. This night the great Thor, the god of thunder and
war, to whom this oak is sacred, is grieved for the death of Baldur, and angry with this
people because they have forsaken his worship. Long is it since an offering has been laid
upon his altar, long since the roots of his holy tree have been fed with blood. Therefore
its leaves have withered before the time, and its boughs are heavy with death. Therefore,
the Slavs and the Saxons have beaten us in battle. Therefore, the harvests have failed,
and the wolf-hordes have ravaged the folds, and the strength has departed from the bow,
and the wood of the spear has broken, and the wild boar has slain the huntsman. Therefore,
the plague has fallen on your dwellings, and the dead are more than the living in all your
villages. Answer me, you people, are not these things true?" The people sounded their
approval and then began a chant of praise to Thor.
When the last sounds faded, Hunrad pronounced, "None of these
things will please the god. More costly is the offering that shall cleanse your sin, more
precious the crimson dew that shall send new life into this holy tree of blood. Thor
claims your dearest and your noblest gift."
With that, Hunrad approached the children, grouped together around the
fire. He selected the fairest boy, Asulf, the son of Duke Alvold and his wife, Thekla, and
declared that he would be sacrificed to travel to Valhalla and bear the people's message
to Thor. Asulf's parents were deeply shaken. Yet, no one spoke.
Hunrad led the boy to a large stone altar between the oak and the fire.
He blindfolded the child, and had him kneel down placing his head on the stone altar. The
people moved closer, and St. Boniface positioned himself near the priest. Hunrad then
lifted his sacred black-stone hammer of the god Thor high into the air, ready to have it
crush little Asulf's skull. As the hammer fell, St. Boniface thrust his crozier against
the hammer, and it fell from Hunrad's hand, splitting in two against the stone altar.
Sounds of awe and joy filled the air. Thekla ran to her child spared of this bloody
sacrifice and embraced him tightly.
St. Boniface, his face radiant then spoke to the people, "Hearken,
sons of the forest! No blood shall flow this night save that which pity has drawn from a
mother's breast. For this is the birth-night of the white Christ, the son of the
All-Father, the Savior of mankind. Fairer is He than Baldur the Beautiful, greater than
Odin the Wise, kinder than Freya the Good. Since He has come sacrifice is ended. The dark,
Thor, on whom you have vainly called, is dead. Deep in the shades of Niffelheim he is lost
forever. And now on this Christ-night you shall begin to live. This blood-tree shall
darken your land no more. In the name of the Lord, I will destroy it." St. Boniface
then took his broad ax and began striking the tree. A mighty wind suddenly arose and the
tree fell, wrenching its roots from the earth, and it split into four pieces.
Behind the mighty oak stood a young fir tree, pointing like a cathedral
spire toward heaven. St. Boniface again spoke to the people, "This little tree, a
young child of the forest, shall be your holy tree tonight. It is the wood of peace, for
your houses are built of the fir. It is the sign of an endless life, for its leaves are
ever green. See how it points upward to heaven. Let this be called the tree of the
Christ-child; gather about it, not in the wild wood, but in your own homes; there it will
shelter no deeds of blood, but loving gifts and rites of kindness."
So they took the fir tree and carried it to the village. Duke Alvold
set the tree in the middle of his great hall. They placed candles on its branches, and it
seemed filled with stars. Then St. Boniface, with Hunrad sitting at his feet, told the
story of Bethlehem, the Baby Jesus in the manger, the shepherds, and the angels. All
listened intently. Little Asulf, sitting on his mother's lap, said, "Mother, listen
now, for I hear those angels singing again behind the tree." Some say it is true;
some say it was St. Boniface's companions singing, "All glory be to God on high, and
to the earth be peace; goodwill, henceforth, from heaven to men begin and never
cease."
As we gather around our Christmas trees this year, may we give thanks
for the gift of our Faith, hold the story of our Savior's birth in our hearts, and listen
for the song of the angels. To all of the readers of "Straight Answers," I wish
you each a joyous and blessed Christmas.
Please note: 100 articles of this column have been compiled in a
book, Straight Answers. The book is available through the Notre Dame Graduate School
(703-658-4303) or may be purchased through the Daughters of St. Paul, the Catholic Shop,
the Paschal Lamb and other religious book stores. All proceeds benefit the building fund
of Our Lady of Hope Church.
Fr. Saunders is pastor of Our Lady of Hope Parish in Potomac Falls and a professor
of catechetics and theology at Notre Dame Graduate School in Alexandria.
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