It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. And . . . smell like it! The aromas wafting from the kitchen offer a foretaste, to wax quasi-liturgical, of the temporal feast to come.

Cookies, breads, meats, pies! No wonder people used to call dining tables “groaning boards”.

Of course, this special holiday fare is not a mere whim of the taste bud. Oh, no; it, all of it, is as loaded with symbolism as Christmas cookies are with sugar.

Let’s begin with that perennial favorite, mince pie. What a delight! And totally appropriate for the season. With every bite, you take in its richness of flavor and history.

It was after the Crusades that meat pies became popular in 13^th century England. This was due to in large part to the vast array of spices brought back from the Middle East. Originally, these pies were made from minced bits of venison, pheasant, partridge, rabbit, and peacock, with apples, sugar, molasses, suet, and raisins thrown in for good measure, all spiced up and baked.

The sweet meats are symbols of the gifts the Wise Men brought to the infant Jesus. The pies were baked in the shape of a manger with an image of the Christ Child upon them.

That was all well and good until England’s Oliver Cromwell and the Puritans took over the rule of the land. Never big ones on symbols ( these were the people who painted over the murals in the churches of the time ), they looked at the pie and saw only idolatry. And so they outlawed these spicy treats. This attitude even leapt the Antlantic, coming with the Pilgrims to this country.

Ultimately, the shape of the pie was changed to its current roundness, and the image of the Baby Jesus was replaced with sprigs of holly.

By the way, this was also the pie of Little Jack Horner fame.

Seems that Jack was rally Thomas Horner, servant of Richard Whiting, Abbot of the wealthy cathedral at Glastonbury during the reign of Henry VIII. At that time, Henry was busying himself with dissolving the hold of the Catholic Church on English lands.

Glastonbury, being a Catholic cathedral, was imperiled, and Whiting needed a plan to appease the King. So  he sent Horner with a pie chock-full of deeds to a dozen wealthy estates.

Now Horner, being an enterprising lad, saw the opportunity to have his pie and eat it, too. He did indeed reach into the pie and pull out a plum of an estate for himself.

Things did not fare as well for Whiting, who was drawn and quartered; nor for the cathedral of Glastonbury, which was reduced to rubble.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, the cookies are ready. A tray brimming with edible symbols, what with all those cute little reindeer, and snowmen, and horses, and the like. While they are intended for the season, Christmas was always the one they represented.

Cookies of this ilk were originally fashioned as a way to sacrifice animals to the gods and still have Bessie the cow around to milk the next morning. Livestock was not only precious and valuable, but was integral to the survival of a community. What the gods thought of this clever switcheroo is not known for certain.

Have a cup of wassail. It’s good for you. In more ways than you might think. That delightful concoction of wines and spices, abob with roasted apples, began life as a toast or blessing of good health.

Indeed, the Anglo-Saxon from which the name comes translates to “be well”. As such, it is a ritual, quaffed by others to the well-being of the one so toasted. In some traditions, people go from door to door with an empty wassail bowl, which is filled at every stop and drank by the visitors who impart the blessing upon their hosts.

There was quite a ceremony associated with this, the origins of which are shrouded in the shadows of the dim past. During Twelfth Night festivities, a group would make the rounds of local orchards, where selected trees would be toasted and sprinkled with wassail. In the revelry that followed, any evil spirits who might harm the coming year’s harvest were driven away by the noise. Sometimes, the trunk of a tree would be christened by breaking a bottle against it, linking this symbolic act to the christening of ships.

Ah, the spirit of Christmas menus past, present, and future. Like so many things, their origin is uncertain, but their present intent is abundantly clear. Have another cookie. Merry Christmas Season!

Mike provides the Fox Valley and beyond with religion and beliefs writing, something he has done, well, religiously since 1986. He is co-lead congregational consultant with Insight Facilitators (www.insightfacilitators.com), a parachurch consulting practice working with houses of worship to inspire spiritual health, vitality, and presence across their communities. If you encounter a religion story that needs telling, contact him at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .