Winter solstice, Yule, and Christmas—the awkward trio at the pub of winter celebrations. If you’ve ever wondered how these seemingly different events overlap, whether Christianity pinched Yule and called it Christmas, or how they all feed into each other like some festive Ouroboros, then get comfy. We’re sticking our noses into history, mythology, and a sprinkling of witchy cheek to unravel it all.
Winter Solstice: The OG Festival
Let’s start with the big one. The winter solstice, also known as Midwinter, is the astronomical event that’s been celebrated for millennia. It’s the shortest day and the longest night of the year, which naturally led our ancestors to freak out a little. “The sun’s fucked off! Will it come back?!” Spoiler: it always does.
Ancient peoples, from the Norse to the Romans to the Celts, marked this event with celebrations to coax the sun back or honour its eventual return. Think feasting, fires, and enough mead to fuel a small army. Some key solstice traditions included:
• Lighting fires and candles to symbolise the returning light.
• Decorating with evergreen plants, like holly and ivy, which symbolised life persisting through the darkest days.
• Sacrificing animals (or bread, depending on your resources) to curry favour with the gods.
The solstice isn’t about one specific religion. It’s nature doing its thing, and humans being humans decided to party about it.

Yule: The Norse Midwinter Binge
Now, Yule is basically the Norse god of winter celebrations. Its roots are in paganism, particularly among Germanic and Norse peoples. Yule’s main vibe? Surviving the darkest time of the year by eating, drinking, and honouring the natural world (and a few terrifying gods).
Key Yule Traditions:
• The Yule Log. Not just a chocolate cake, my friend. Originally, it was an actual log that people would set on fire for 12 days to keep the darkness at bay. The ashes were then used for protection magic.
• Wassailing. Essentially going door-to-door singing and demanding booze. Sound familiar? That’s because wassailing is the scrappy ancestor of carolling.
• Honouring the Wild Hunt. The Norse believed the god Odin led a ghostly hunt across the skies during Yule. To avoid becoming accidental prey, people stayed inside, left offerings, and generally didn’t piss off Odin.
Yule was a time to commune with the spirits of nature, ancestors, and, occasionally, a tipsy god who might be riding through the clouds on his way to slaughter you.
Christmas: Christianity’s New Kid on the Block
Here’s where things get… layered. Christianity didn’t exactly steal Yule, but it definitely borrowed liberally and rebranded like a marketing genius. When early Christians were spreading their message, they realised that people weren’t so hot about giving up their beloved midwinter festivals. So instead of cancelling them, they overlaid Christian meaning.
Jesus wasn’t even born in December—historical evidence suggests a spring or autumn birth (try and get the Catholics to concede to that school of thought, I dare you). But December 25th was chosen for Christmas because it coincided with:
• Saturnalia. A Roman festival honouring Saturn, involving feasting, gift-giving, and general chaos.
• Dies Natalis Solis Invicti (Day of the Unconquered Sun). A Roman celebration of—you guessed it—the sun’s return.
• Yule. The Germanic folks weren’t about to stop honouring Odin and his mates, so Christianity gave them Jesus instead.
So no, Christmas isn’t purely “stolen” from Yule. It’s more like an artistic collage: Saturnalia + Solstice + a side of pagan ritual = Christmas.

Saturnalia and Dies Natalis Solis Invicti
When we think of the midwinter holidays, Yule often steals the show for pagans and witches. But the Romans were also knee-deep in their own raucous celebrations, and their influence on Christmas is impossible to ignore. Let’s have a look at the two Roman festivals that fed into the creation of Christmas: Saturnalia and Dies Natalis Solis Invicti (The Day of the Unconquered Sun).
Saturnalia: The Party of Parties

Saturnalia was the Roman festival dedicated to Saturn, the god of agriculture, wealth, and liberation. It kicked off on December 17th and initially lasted for a single day, but because the Romans loved an excuse to party, it soon extended to a week or more. If the winter solstice was the time to honour the natural world, Saturnalia was when humans celebrated themselves—with chaos, laughter, and getting pissed up— has much actually changed?
Key Saturnalia Traditions…
• Role Reversals. During Saturnalia, societal norms were flipped on their heads. Masters served their slaves, and slaves got to boss their masters around (hello? 12 days of misrule vibes anyone?) It was a world turned upside down, much like a carnival.
• Gift-Giving. Romans exchanged small tokens, often candles or figurines, symbolising light returning and shared joy. Sound familiar? This was a precursor to modern Christmas gift-giving.
• Public Feasting and Drinking. Excess was encouraged. Think of Saturnalia as an ancient office Christmas party—people got hammered and embarrassed themselves in front of their boss, who, conveniently, was also drunk.
• Gambling. Normally frowned upon, gambling became a free-for-all during Saturnalia, especially with dice games.
The Vibe: Saturnalia was wild, irreverent, and fun—a time to shake off the year’s stresses and enjoy communal merriment. Early Christians couldn’t stop the Saturnalia steamroller, so they layered Christmas over it, retaining the feasting, gift-giving, and general good vibes.
Dies Natalis Solis Invicti: The Day of the Unconquered Sun
Now this one might be new to you, and honestly, it’s a bit of a hidden gem in winter festival history. While Saturnalia was all about human partying, Dies Natalis Solis Invicti had a cosmic focus: the return of the sun.
The Romans celebrated Dies Natalis Solis Invicti on December 25th as part of their devotion to Sol Invictus, the sun god. “Unconquered” referred to the sun’s ability to persist and return stronger after the darkest days of the year—a theme closely tied to the winter solstice.
Emperor Aurelian officially established this festival in 274 CE to unite the empire under the worship of Sol Invictus. It was a clever political move to blend pagan traditions into one cohesive celebration.
Key Themes of Dies Natalis Solis Invicti
• Sun Worship: People honoured the invincible sun as the ultimate life force. Without it, crops wouldn’t grow, life wouldn’t exist, and frankly, nothing would get done.
• Cosmic Renewal: The festival symbolised the triumph of light over darkness, a theme so universal it was irresistible to early Christians, who tied it to Jesus’ birth (the “light of the world”).
• State-Sponsored Unity: Aurelian used Sol Invictus as a kind of imperial glue to keep the Roman Empire’s patchwork of cultures and religions somewhat harmonious.
The Vibe: Dies Natalis Solis Invicti wasn’t as wild as Saturnalia. It was more of a cosmic “new year” celebration, honouring the sun’s resilience and tying the natural world to divine power.

How These Festivals Shaped Christmas
Here’s where it gets juicy. The traditions of Yule and Christmas aren’t just similar—they’re practically twins separated at birth. When Christianity began spreading, church leaders knew they needed to replace these popular pagan festivals to win over the masses. The existing winter festivities provided the perfect framework for a winter celebration centred around Jesus’ birth. So, let’s have a look at how these celebrations feed into each other…
1. December 25th: This wasn’t chosen randomly. It coincided with Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, symbolising Christ as the new “sun” who brings light to the world. Jesus wasn’t even born in December, but hey, the symbolism worked.
2. Gift-Giving: The Romans were already doing this during Saturnalia. Christianity didn’t have to reinvent the wheel—it just gave the practice a religious spin by tying it to the Magi’s gifts to baby Jesus. The Yule tradition of exchanging gifts with family and spirits morphed into Christmas gift-giving. Add a fat bloke in a red suit (hello, Santa, you Wild Hunt knockoff), and you’ve got the modern tradition.
3. Feasting and Merriment: Early Christians kept these Saturnalian traditions alive, albeit with a bit more moderation (at least in theory). Over time, Christmas developed its own feasting culture that still mirrors the Roman orgies of food and drink— full on Roman binge and purge cycle optional. Whichever way you look at it, this season about excess—because what else are you going to do when it’s pitch-black by 4pm? Eat, drink, and pretend your drunk uncle isn’t about to start singing.
4. Lights in the Darkness: Both Saturnalia and Dies Natalis Solis Invicti focused on light returning to the world, a theme that fits neatly with the Christian narrative of Jesus bringing spiritual light to humanity. Yule fires, solstice candles, and Christmas lights all stem from the same primal fear of the dark. Humans just love lighting stuff up when the nights get long.
5. Evergreens Everywhere: Whether you’re hanging holly for Yule or decking the halls for Christmas, evergreen plants symbolise life, protection, and endurance. Christians slapped a Jesus sticker on it, calling it eternal life, but the symbolism remains the same.
Does it Really Matter?

So why does this tangled history of winter celebrations matter to modern witches? Because it reminds us that the season’s magic is universal. You don’t have to choose between Yule, Christmas, or the solstice—you can embrace all three, or none at all.
• Feeling cheeky? Throw a Saturnalia-inspired party with reversed roles, silly games, and a feast that would make Bacchus blush.
• Want to connect with the cosmos? Honour Dies Natalis Solis Invicti by meditating on the sun’s power and resilience.
• Need to keep the peace at Christmas dinner? Light a candle and reflect on the deeper, shared magic of the season.
• Celebrate Yule with a Yule log, wassailing, and a toast to Odin.
• Honour the solstice by lighting candles and reflecting on the year’s cycles.
Witchcraft thrives on adaptation. Take what resonates and leave the rest.
Syncretism, Not Theft
It’s tempting to yell, “Christians stole Yule! Get the pitchforks lads!” and storm off in a huff, but history is rarely that simple. Christianity didn’t steal Yule as much as it assimilated it. The Church knew people wouldn’t abandon their beloved pagan traditions, so it repackaged them with a Christian spin. Christmas isn’t about one culture “stealing” from another—it’s a dance of adaptation and evolution. Humans have always celebrated the light returning in winter, whether through Odin, Sol Invictus, or Jesus.
Is it frustrating? Sure. But it’s also a testament to how deeply connected humans are to nature’s cycles. Yule, Christmas, and the solstice all share a common thread: celebrating light in the darkness and finding hope during bleak times.
So, whether you’re raising a horn of mead to Odin, a glass of wine to Jesus, or just trying to survive another awkward family dinner, know this: the magic of the season is yours to claim.
Now go light a candle, pour yourself a drink, and enjoy the chaos of winter.





