My first seven winters in the US was spent in Michigan. It was there that I learned the true meaning of the word ‘cold’. That first winter in 2003 was long and harsh but at least my kids and I had the excitement that comes from new experiences. I bought them snowboards. But the novelty of snow soon wears off when you don’t see grass from Thanksgiving to March, and by the New Year we longed for spring.
We had never heard of Groundhog Day. In fact we’d never heard of groundhogs. Punxsutawney, PA was just a weird name to us and nothing more. But when we learned about the quaint custom associated with February 2nd, we thought it was kind of cute in a troubling sort of way. These people make a large squirrel forecast the weather? Huh?
After a few winters we realized that Punxsutawney Phil was a pathological liar. In Michigan it didn’t matter whether he saw his shadow or not – there were ALWAYS six more weeks of winter. Usually more than six. Nonetheless, people’s spirits were lifted for a few hours each year Phil predicted an early spring. You’d think that they’d have learned by now. In Michigan, you should never trust a rodent who tells you the snow will soon be melting. You’re not in Narnia anymore, Toto.
The good, if a little naïve, people of rural Pennsylvania are just one of countless bands of humans who have created annual customs to try to give hope during the long, cold, dark northern winters. The other day I learned about a much more sincere and scientific attempt, this one made by the ancient inhabitants of County Meath in the Irish Republic. In around 3,200 BC, on the landscape now known as Newgrange, people built a tomb that has been brilliantly preserved to the present day. It's a raised, earthen mound, older than both Stonehenge and the pyramids of Egypt.
The builders of the tomb knew a thing or two about cosmology and calendars. They designed the tomb to catch the rays of the sun on one particular day each year. The winter solstice, December 21 (plus two days either side of it.) At dawn on December 19-23, a beam of light from the rising sun shines down a narrow passageway in the earthen mound into the center of the tomb, illuminating the inner chamber for 17 minutes.
Because only a handful of visitors can fit into the tiny chamber to witness this phenomenon, each year the Irish historic-monuments agency conducts a lottery to decide who will have that rare privilege. Chances of winning are remote: there are over 27,000 entries for the "Winter Solstice." Even if you are blessed to win the lottery, there’s no guarantee that you’ll actually see the sun. It’s Ireland, don’t forget. The sun can be elusive. There’s a reason why that island is so green, and it’s not the sunshine.
Well, glory be, I’m writing this on December 22, and I can happily tell you that yesterday the dawn in Newgrange was unclouded! So the lucky 27 got to see the sun piercing the darkness of the inner tomb. And what an amazing metaphor that is for Christmas. Jesus, the light, has come. He has scattered the gloom. He shines in the darkness and the darkness shall not overcome him. Merry Christmas.