Christmas superstitions

We celebrate Hogmanay with verve and style and many a quaint old custom, not just by being sick in Sauchiehall Street, but down there below the border Christmas is merely a time for silly superstitions:

From The Dictionary of English Folklore:
Most regional collections report a belief that at midnight on Christmas Eve cattle kneel to welcome the Holy Child, and bees buzz, or hum the Hundredth Psalm (e.g. Harland and Wilkinson, 1882: 253). During this night cocks crow, and ‘the powers of darkness can have no evil influence on mankind’ (Udal, 1922: 51; cf. Hamlet I. i).
Babies born on Christmas Day are fortunate, either in general, or because they cannot be drowned or hanged, or cannot see ghosts and spirits. Brand (1849: i. 478–80) quotes a long poem from a manuscript of c.1525 setting out for each day of the week what it will mean if Christmas falls on that day, as regards the weather and events of the coming year, and the destiny of children born on that Christmas Day.
It was also an appropriate time for divinations, though less so than the New Year; in 19th-century Yorkshire a girl who had been kissed under the mistletoe would take a berry and a leaf to her room, swallow the berry, prick the man's initials on to the leaf, and stitch it inside her corset to keep him true (Blakeborough, 1898: 69).
Some New Year beliefs applied to Christmas Day too, including the taboo on taking fire out of the house or borrowing from neighbours, and the custom of first footing, especially in Herefordshire (Leather, 1912: 108–9). Many households ‘let Christmas in’ by opening doors early in the morning and saying ‘Welcome, Father Christmas’ or the like. A handful of sources call it unlucky to bring new shoes, or new leather into the house (Opie and Tatem, 1989: 230, 350).
More common, from the mid-19th century to the present, is the idea that you will have as many happy months in the coming year as you eat mince-pies—in different houses, most say (Opie and Tatem, 1989: 248–9).

Where did you get that hat?

Several students (and colleagues) have asked me what on earth I am dressed up as in the photo that appears on this blog.
The answer is that when I went to Buenos Aires with the Glasgow party we flew down for a little holiday at a campo a couple of hundred miles from BA. We rode a great deal (well, not Prof. J, obviously!) and in recognition of my riding skill I was presented with a complete gaucho kit, including this hat. I was very proud of this and although some people were unkind about it at least Jennie thinks it's fetching and wants me to wear it whenever we go to Auchtermuchtie!

Sigi and Skadi

Herewith the beginning of my favourite saga on which I shall be lecturing next term:
THE STORY OF THE VOLSUNGS(VOLSUNGA SAGA)
CHAPTER I
Of Sigi, the Son of Odin
Here begins the tale, and tells of a man who was named Sigi, and called of men the son of Odin; another man withal is told of in the tale, hight Skadi, a great man and mighty of his hands; yet was Sigi the mightier and the higher of kin, according to the speech of men of that time. Now Skadi had a thrall with whom the story must deal somewhat, Bredi by name, who was called after that work which he had to do; in prowess and might of hand he was equal to men who were held more worthy, yea, and better than some thereof.
Now it is to be told that, on a time, Sigi fared to the hunting of the deer, and the thrall with him; and they hunted deer day- long till the evening; and when they gathered together their prey in the evening, lo, greater and more by far was that which Bredi had slain than Sigi's prey; and this thing he much misliked, and he said that great wonder it was that a very thrall should out-do him in the hunting of deer: so he fell on him and slew him, and buried the body of him thereafter in a snow-drift.
Then he went home at evening tide and says that Bredi had ridden away from him into the wild-wood. "Soon was he out of my sight," he says, "and naught more I wot of him."
Skadi misdoubted the tale of Sigi, and deemed that this was a guile of his, and that he would have slain Bredi. So he sent men to seek for him, and to such an end came their seeking, that they found him in a certain snow-drift; then said Skadi, that men should call that snow-drift Bredi's Drift from henceforth; and thereafter have folk followed, so that in such wise they call every drift that is right great.

Religious Intolerance

I haven't added any posts lately because I have been much occupied with the Grenoble symposium on Zoroastrianism and, of course, with the continuation of my I.S. lectures and preparations for next term's admin changes.
Some of my students have asked whether I will be presenting a paper at the RPL seminar in March. The answer is yes: by way of complete change I am writing a paper on religious discrimination at universities which I hope to complete at least in outline before Christmas, as Jan and Feb are going to be very hectic. If any of my students - or, indeed, anyone - has some relevant experience or comments I would be happy to hear from them, by email or, preferably, through the Philo forum on my RPL website (URL from the Bursar if you don't know it).

Making amends

I had an exchange of correspondence with a Mr Tink of Albuquerque in which I unjustly cast doubt on his claim to Scottish ancestry. He also asked for a recent picture of Eppy so I can do no less than supply it for him. Here it is, with my apologies and greetings:

Back again

As the theology and the Phil.Open students will know, I've been too busy to add much to this blog lately although I have kept the other websites going as best I can.
Apologies to all those who have emailed but haven't had a reply yet. I hope to catch up in a week or so.

Meanwhile, we have a new foal. Jennie's called him Epaminondas - don't ask me why!

Well, you see...

I greatly admire The Guardian's summing up of the way in which the various religious leaders are helping their congregations to understand why God allowed the Boxing Day tectonic plate shift:
Christians stressed God's presence with the suffering, Hindus reconciled themselves to fate, The Chief Rabbi composed a prayer and the Archbishop of Canterbury wrote an article for the Sunday Telegraph.
Classic!

Christian charity

I spent some time while Jenny and I were in Paris (only when I was exhausted and needed to sit down a while!) looking over the answers to my question What do Christians make of the sudden violent death of 100,000 mostly very poor people – a third of them children – and the destruction of the lives of a million more?
As I said, there were some interesting answers, but I became increasingly repelled when I re-read the comments of the handful of fundamentalists who sent a reply. It seems they really believe that this disaster – and every other tragedy in the history of mankind – happened because Adam “rejected” God and others have done so since. How anyone can be so crass as to think that this ridiculous rubbish constitutes an acceptable explanation is beyond me. One of them did at least have the grace to apologise for having been so obsessed with Jesus that she had given no thought to the victims.
Any comment would be inadequate. For myself I am content to wait for an explanation like the little man in The Guardian's cartoon:

…but I am writing a paper about the results of my little amateur poll and will present it at the March seminar.

An Englishwoman commented on my last post by pointing out politely that it would have been more helpful to try to help the victims, and to find out how such disasters might be avoided in the future, rather than spending time on pondering academic questions like What do Christians make of it all?
She is absolutely right, of course, but as I am not a seismologist or a communications expert I can't give any help with planning for the future and, like most people, the only way I can help the victims is by writing a cheque. But having done that I have to get on with my day job, which is lecturing in philosophy and comparative religion: hence the justification for my enquiry. I accept, PerfectlyVocal, that my little poll and, indeed, what I do for a living, probably doesn't help anybody much, but I'm a bit old now to retrain as a doctor or an aid worker and I might as well spend my time on relatively useless activities, so don't be too hard on me.

Tsunami

Very many thanks to all those who responded to my query about the Christian explanation - theological, not technical - of this dreadful disaster. I have had no less than 45 responses and there are more still coming in, mostly to the Philo website.
I must say, though, that the quality of the replies was not as high as I would have hoped: there were careful and considered answers from Jesuits at one end of the Christian spectrum and Quakers at the other, but in between there were mostly the usual predictable mouthings about Original Sin, complete with Biblical quotations, and in a surprising number of answers there was no trace of any human feeling of compassion for those who died or for the survivors.
I have extracted the interesting and original pieces for a paper I shall write in the New Year and will delete the original post.
Now I really must help Jennie to pack.......

Off again

Jennie and I are going to Paris over the New Year. I won't have time before I go to reply to all the emails, and I won't be posting to any of the forums for a while, so don't imagine I'm dead. Back next week.