Christmas and The Moravian

December issues of “The Moravian” have often told Christmas tales, facts, and well wishes. In 1938, while “The Moravian” was still a weekly publication, the issue closest to Christmas was printed in green ink for the first time. The festive green ink remained until the Christmas week issue of 1949. After “The Moravian” changed to a monthly publication (in 1952), the December issue always included an article on Moravian traditions at Christmas, Christmas traditions in general, historical aspects of Christmas, or something along a Christmas theme, oftentimes with pictures. The following are some of the Christmas themed articles that have appeared in “The Moravian” throughout the years.

“This is Christmas day. There is joy among all people, and a festival in the Church. We wish our readers, one and all, ‘A Merry Christmas!’ — not in the sense of the world, but of the glorious gospel which appeared on earth when Christ was born. May their social gatherings, and their family re-unions, be times of real happiness; may the glad light of this day stream into every home, and dispel all gloomy thoughts and anxious cares; may the tidings of great joy find their way into every heart, and give unto it peace.”
The Moravian
December 25, 1857
“Christmas”

Our people have come out of various backgrounds bringing their native customs with them. The American Christmas reflects this mixture, with something of the austere attitudes of the Puritans, who actually fined people for observing Christmas, to the jollity of the Dutch with their Yuletide feasting and merriment. Whether they were the English of Virginia, with their candlelight concerts, square dances and caroling, the Germans of Pennsylvania, including the Moravians, with their particular customs, the Scandinavians in the Middle West, or the Spanish of the Southwest, each added something to the total picture of our Christmas observance.

Commercialism has taken such possession of the season that for some this seems to be its chief justification. Many families pay their sacrifices at the altar of the god of business for months before and after the day.
The Moravian
Gordon A. Stoltz
December, 1959
Excerpts of “Keeping Christmas Christian”

It was Christmas, 1945. The first Christmas after the close of World War II. I was still in uniform in the army of occupation in the historic city of Bayreuth, Germany. I had wanted to spend Christmas with the Moravian community at Bad Boll, but duty called.

I did have a few hours on Christmas Day that I could call my own. A few Moravian refugees were located in a nearby town of Munchberg. They had come there from Silesia to keep alive the weaving industry of the Abraham Duninger firm and had temporarily set up shop in a Bavarian factory.

I prevailed upon the chaplain to loan me his jeep but the trip seemed doomed to failure. A flat tired delayed my arrival until dark. My contact person was not at his hotel; he had gone to spend the holiday with his family. The lady at the factory understood my ersatz German enough to say that other Moravian families lived up the hill, but she didn’t know where. In the dark coldness of the night I drove up and down the deserted streets, feeling frustrated and alone.

Then suddenly I saw the star. It was a Moravian Advent star hanging in a doorway. The wisemen could not have rejoiced more. I eagerly knocked and the door opened to one of the best Christmases I have ever known. The Maasbergs, the Roths, and T/4 Michel gathered in that home that evening to share the love of God and the joys of Christmas. A box from home provided us with Christmas cake and cookies. A year before those of us in the room had been considered enemies. My American army uniform was a stark reminder. But peace and blessing were in that home in Munchberg that night.
It was the star that guided me to a Christmas of joy.
The Moravian
Bernie Michel
December, 1984
“The Guiding Star”

Take a good look at a Moravian Christmas candle. Whatever is it doing in our modern church?

Mr. Twentieth Century says it is nothing but a cylinder of yellowish wax from a beehive, molded around a string and decorated with a bright colored paper frill. Mrs. Practical moans that hours of work are needed to make and trim each one. Miss Efficiency adds that it represents an out-of-date method of lighting and the church has an electric system that illumines every corner of the auditorium easily and economically.

But who wants to listen to this utilitarian trio instead of taking part in the Christmas Eve Vigil? Plain, dull practicality is out-voiced in this colorful, joyous season. The inefficient, out-of-date, much-loved candle becomes the high point of the service.

Every child in the church eagerly watches the crack in the doors for the first flicker of light that means that the lighted candles are ready to be brought in. “Behold a great, a heavenly light,” we sing; and our eyes, too, are intent on watching the first glimpse of the glowing trays of candles. The stirring music, the loveliness of the church decorations, the wonder of the Christmas story crowd away the hurry and worry of the outside world. As the sacristans carry in the trays of lighted candles we put a heart full of expression into our singing.

The twinkling candles pass swiftly from hand to hand across the long bench-rows, making little chains of light throughout the church. We are surrounded by the happiness of young and old, sharing with us the wonder of the Christmas story. Whatever our interpretation, we pray our lives may reflect the heavenly light of which we sing, as the candles echo it. “Let our light so shine…,” is our unspoken prayer.

Ask a child what the candle means. He’ll say it means Christmas. Whatever we may see in the candle glow, that little, impractical beeswax cylinder with its gay petticoat means Christmas to Moravian children. An all of us are children on Christmas Eve.
The Moravian
Lee Shields Butterfield
December, 1959
Excerpts of “Let Our Lights Shine”

Dear Folks,
Christmas in Germany!! Who ever would have dreamed a few years ago that on Christmas day, 1944, I would find myself inside the German border? Yes, it was a strange Christmas for all of us. Some places along the line it was just another day to the doughboys. They had to dig their foxholes a little deeper to wait for the enemy to counterattack, or they had to go on patrol against the enemy.

We had our daily routine duty, but there was somewhat of a holiday air about the day. The Red Cross girls came around with coffee and doughnuts, and that turkey supper the cooks put out made all of us think of Mom’s cooking. The best part of the day, though, was the communion service the chaplain held for us. It was just a simple service with everyone dressed in his everyday O.D. uniform, but it seemed to bring to us the full meaning of Christmas.

When we ate the bread and sipped the wine, it did not matter that we had not watched the kids open the packages under the tree and then had the joy of opening our own. We had missed those things, of course, but here we were partaking of the Lord’s Supper in remembrance of the greatest Christmas Gift the world has ever received.

Yes, Christmas in Germany was strange without Christmas tree lights shining from every window and people filled with the holiday spirit as you folk were at home. Yet all over the world some were remembering the true meaning of Christmas, the birth of the Savior, who brought to us the greatest Christmas gift of all time — life everlasting.

Love,
Mike
Somewhere in Germany
The Moravian
February 24, 1945
“Letter from a Soldier”

Article researched and compiled by Andrew David, intern, Interprovincial Board of Communication.