By D.W. Roach — MarauderBooks.com
Christmas is, at first glance, a Christian celebration rooted in the Middle East — a holiday tied to Bethlehem, the Nativity, and a faith born under desert skies. Yet if you look around at what we actually do during Christmas, the symbols we cherish, the imagery we decorate with, the creatures and trees and traditions we keep alive… you find yourself staring squarely at the cultures of the far North.
Why pine trees and evergreens instead of olive branches? Why reindeer instead of camels? Why snow, firelight, mead-colored warmth, and aesthetics that feel unmistakably Scandinavian or Germanic?
Because Christmas, as we celebrate it today, is a tapestry woven from many traditions — Christian, Roman, Celtic, and yes, profoundly Norse.
This is the story of that tapestry, and, in some ways, my story too.
Where Christmas Actually Comes From
Christianity did not originally celebrate the birth of Christ. In fact, for the first few centuries of the religion, Easter was the central holy day.
So why December 25?
Historians believe the date was adopted for several reasons:
- To align with existing midwinter festivals
- To ease the transition of pagan peoples into Christianity
- To symbolically place Christ’s birth at the time when the sun begins to return
The Roman Empire already celebrated Sol Invictus, the “Unconquered Sun,” on December 25 — a festival marking the turning of winter toward brighter days. But the Romans weren’t the only ones marking this moment. Across Europe, the midwinter season was the domain of firelight, feasting, spirits, gods, and survival.
And no midwinter tradition was as influential as Yule.
Yule: The Viking Midwinter
Long before Christmas reached Northern Europe, the Norse celebrated Jól, or Yule, a festival that blended reverence, fear, magic, and hope.
Yule meant:
- The longest night of the year
- The slow return of the sun
- Honoring ancestors
- Feasting to survive the cold
- Rituals of luck and protection
- The presence of supernatural forces
The world felt thinner in winter. Closer to the gods. Closer to the dead.
It was a time when the Vikings lit hearths, told stories, raised horns to Odin, and swore oaths they intended to keep — or intended to die trying.
And the traditions of Yule didn’t disappear. They embedded themselves into the holiday we now call Christmas.
How Norse Culture Shaped Modern Christmas
You can see the fingerprints of Yule all over the holiday season.
The Evergreen Tree
To the Norse, evergreens symbolized life that endured even in the harshest winter. Decorating trees, bringing greenery indoors, and adorning halls with pine branches were all Yule customs.
Christian Germany later blended these traditions into what became the Christmas tree, which then spread across Europe and the West.
Reindeer and Northern Aesthetics
Reindeer were central to the livelihood and mythologies of Arctic cultures, and winter imagery in general became heavily Northern due to Europe’s geography. A Middle Eastern holiday, shaped in Northern Europe, inherited Northern weather.
Snow, pine, reindeer, icy stars — these weren’t Biblical. They were Yule-born.
Gift Giving and Odin’s Wild Hunt
Odin, during Yule, rode across the sky leading the Wild Hunt, a ghostly procession of spirits. Children left offerings in their boots for Sleipnir, his eight-legged horse.
In return, Odin left gifts.
This tradition is eerily close to stockings and Santa Claus — only the original version had a one-eyed god in a cloak, wandering the winter night with wolves and ravens.
Even Santa’s long white beard, his cloak, his knowledge of who’s been “naughty,” and his ability to travel through the air at Yule all echo Odin.
The Yule Log
A massive log burned for up to twelve days. Its fire represented life, protection, and divine blessing. Ashes from the Yule log were kept all year as good luck charms.
Today we still talk about the “12 days of Christmas,” a direct descendant of the Yule celebration.
Between Christian theology and ancient European winter rites, the holiday became an interwoven cultural legacy — something neither fully Middle Eastern nor fully Northern, but deeply human.
A Religious Holiday That Became a Human One
For millions, Christmas is profoundly spiritual. For others, it’s cultural. For others still, it’s simply a season of beauty — a time of warmth and family.
What’s interesting is that all these perspectives fit.
Christmas is flexible. That’s why it has endured for so many centuries.
Even as someone who wasn’t raised with faith, I can still appreciate the meaning, the ritual, and the stories that shape this season. In Europe, Christianity didn’t overwrite older traditions — it blended with them.
That blend is what gives Christmas its familiar, comforting strangeness.
My Personal Perspective: On Gods, the Cosmos, and the Stories We Tell
I wasn’t born into a particular faith, and for a long time I considered myself a militant atheist — absolutely certain that gods were merely inventions of the human imagination. But age, experience, and a deeper understanding of the world have a way of dissolving those certainties.
The truth is, I no longer know what is or isn’t possible in a universe this vast.
As someone who writes sagas about men battling Norse gods, the concept of the divine fascinates me. What does “god” even mean? Perhaps it describes an immortal being, or a civilization so advanced that they can conjure matter, cure illness, or cross galaxies with ease. Perhaps the myths we inherited were attempts to explain forces or visitations our ancestors simply couldn’t comprehend.
Cultures across the world tell remarkably similar stories — floods, celestial visitors, eras of fire and ice, golden ages lost. Maybe these aren’t literal accounts of gods. Maybe they’re fractured memories of catastrophes and rebirths, passed down by the survivors.
I don’t claim belief. And I no longer claim disbelief.
I simply acknowledge the possibility.
Why I Love Christmas, Even Without Religion
Despite the ambiguity of my spiritual views, Christmas remains one of the warmest and most meaningful times of my year.
I love the lights against the cold.
I love the fire in the hearth, the cup of coffee or cocoa in my hands, and the quiet moments with my wife and family.
I love the decorations, the music, the sense that — even briefly — the world tries to be kinder.
Without Christmas, December would be bleak and lifeless. The holiday brings color to the gray, warmth to the cold, and joy to a time that would otherwise be harsh and empty.
Like Dickens, I feel hope in December. A sense that we can be better to one another. That we can make someone’s day brighter. That we can choose generosity and compassion.
Christmas is, at its core, a celebration of light in the darkness — something every culture, every religion, and every human heart understands.
Closing Thoughts: The Tapestry of Midwinter
Christmas is not one thing.
It is:
- a Christian holy day
- a Roman festival
- a Norse midwinter rite
- a cultural tradition
- a family gathering
- a beacon of warmth
- a story we keep telling
- a flame that survives the dark
And for me, it is a reminder that myth, history, and humanity are inseparable. Our stories — whether about gods in Bethlehem or gods in Asgard — shape us. They connect us. They carry us through winter.
In that sense, Christmas is not just inherited.
It is earned, year after year, by choosing to light a fire against the long night.
D.W. Roach "Marauder" 