Have yourself a fantastical holiday
When C. S. Lewis showed J. R. R. Tolkien the manuscript for The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the unimpressed Tolkien harrumphed a humbug. For the author of The Hobbit, the optimal self-contained fantasy world was set apart as a reality all its own. Tolkien grumbled that his friend had jumbled different worlds together. In particular, he disapproved of Father Christmas making a visit. Narnia is a distinct fantasy world, and you can’t just plop Santa Claus down in it. Away with the huge man wearing a bright red robe (“as bright as holly berries”). Away with the sledge, the reindeer, the presents—all of it. Thus sternly spoke the Merton Professor.
If I was stranded on a desert island and could only have one with me, I would unhesitatingly choose The Lord of the Rings over The Chronicles of Narnia. Nevertheless, while reading The Lord of the Rings on my unpopulated patch of earth arising out of the sea, I would hope for a visit from Father Christmas. I unabashedly side with Lewis rather than Tolkien in this intra-Inklings dispute. By all means allow Santa Claus to help these children accumulate weaponry. Susan shall have her bow and arrows, Peter his sword and shield, and Lucy her dagger.
The reason is simple: We love the magic of fantasy worlds. In the Narnia stories, it includes a teleporting wardrobe and talking beavers. It is charming to imagine such possibilities. Yet it would clearly be a net loss if a fantasy world were deprived of Christmas. Christmas is so wonderful, so magical, that, if one wishes to create a wonderful, magical, fantasy world, a strong desire rises up. No one hopes for a world without Christmas.
Consider the Harry Potter series as another example. Magic wands are good. Magic potions are good. Paintings with ghosts in them that talk to you? Very good. Dragons, hippogriffs, a phoenix—all good. But it would not be nearly as magical if there was no Christmas. Hogwarts would not be Hogwarts without Christmas. Some splendid magical objects or creatures appear in just one of the books, but Christmas is part of their core magic, appearing in every one of the seven volumes. Often there is an entire Christmas-themed chapter. Moreover, there is no “War on Christmas” in the wizarding world. The students at Hogwarts do not have a holiday break or a winter break—they have a Christmas break.
In Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, there are “twelve Christmas trees in the Great Hall,” and the suits of armor are enchanted to make them sing “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” Join me in December at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and listen to this deep magic: “Yea, Lord, we greet Thee, / Born this happy morning, / Jesus, to Thee be all glory given; / Word of the Father, / Now in flesh appearing. / O come, let us adore Him, / O come, let us adore Him, O come let us adore Him, / Christ, the Lord.” In Harry Potter and the Deathly Hollows, Hermione and Harry end up in a churchyard on Christmas Eve. They can hear the carols that are being sung inside the little church. Unquestionably, Christmas carols have their own magic and power.
Here is a fun question for a Christmas pub quiz: What very specific connection is there between the following three titles: “Last Christmas,” “A Christmas Carol,” and “Joy to the World”? Answer: These are all episodes of Dr Who. Other Christmas episodes in that show include “The Church on Ruby Road” and, nodding back to where we started this enchanted journey, “The Doctor, the Widow and the Wardrobe.” Dr Who is the longest-run science fiction show in the history of television. It is about an extraterrestrial species from the planet Gallifrey that has the ability to reincarnate and therefore live on for centuries. They can also time travel. Dr Who has a time machine that is bigger on the inside than it is on the outside, which is super cool. Once again, Dr Who creates a fun, fantasy world that includes Christmas because it would simply be less fun without it.
Some flaming rum punch even warmed up Professor Tolkien’s humbugging heart in the end. At the back of The Lord of the Rings there are over a hundred pages of appendices, covering all manner of topics ranging from the genealogies of certain characters to the scripts of various languages. One section provides a chronology of the events in the story. The last date records the day when the ring falls into the Crack of Doom which marks the “Downfall of Barad-dûr and passing of Sauron.” That date is March 25. That is a day in the possible range for the dating of Easter, and I am quite confident that this is intentional. It is indeed an allusion to Easter—which, of course, is the day on which Satan is defeated.
The real tell in this list, however, is the date when “The Company of the Ring leaves Rivendell.” It is December 25. The Fellowship of the Ring sets out on its mission on Christmas Day, and that mission is finally fulfilled on Easter Day. In other words, the very Tolkien who complained that Lewis was jumbling up separate worlds by letting Father Christmas make a guest appearance in Narnia created his great drama to begin on Christmas Day. Joy to the Middle Earth world!
In the end, Christmas is so wonderful that even J. R. R. Tolkien—purist though he was—could not leave it completely out of his fantasy world. Repeatedly, authors have decided that the best of all possible fantasy worlds is one that includes Christmas. Flying broomsticks are good. A flying police call box is good. Flying reindeer pulling a sled? Very good. Let the reindeer come forth from the North. And forbid them not to fly.
Timothy Larsen teaches at Wheaton College and is an Honorary Fellow at Edinburgh University. He is the author of Twelve Classic Christmas Stories: A Feast of Yuletide Times, John Stuart Mill: A Secular Life, and the editor of The Oxford Handbook of Christmas. He is President Elect of the American Society of Church History.
Image: BBC Studios Productions
If one did the math on moon phases (which Tolkien describes) you might be able to date his March 25 to Easter. More likely Tolkien’s placement of March 25 as destruction of the ring is an allusion to the Annunciation, the feast of which is March 25, nine months before December 25. Tolkien references Christ’s incarnation (March 25) and the manifestation of that incarnation (December 25).
What a wonderful essay to read on Christmas Eve! Thank you Dr. Larson and Current.
It does strike me, both in this essay and that of Dr. Stice at the Arena (and has previously, too), how much our appropriation of or engagement with Christian truth is mediated by popular entertainments of one form or another. I’m not convinced either way if this is good or bad, but it *does* I think say something important about “us” (the church in North America at the first third of the 21st century). I do wonder if as a result of how large a place entertainments hold in our practices, if we aren’t having our approach to such things shaped in ways that are questionable; eg, in both essays, the requirement that things be “fun” is invoked. My own feeling is that fun should perhaps play a less-than-central role in our assessment of such matters. Like close to zero less-than-central. But I’m also told that I’m a grump.
Lane, not Stice. Sheesh! Sorry!