Fear – and Hope – in Europe’s Christmas Markets

Advent in Germany is brightened by its world-famous Christmas markets. The smell of grilled sausage, Germany’s famous mulled gluhwein, and gingerbread (Lebkuchen) blend together under multicolored  lights creating a cheerful experience in anticipation of Christ’s birth. Whether it is a two-day affair at a local monastery or the town fire station, or one of the huge metropolitan markets in Munich, Berlin, or Dresden, Christmas markets, now, as in centuries past, are an integral part of the economic and social fabric of Germany, and a potential sign of hope. Though they are also currently threatened by dark shadows.

Tragically, in the past ten years, festivities have been marred by violence.  Terrorists have murdered market-goers in  Magdeburg, Trier, Berlin and in several markets in France. German and French authorities have now been forced to take measures to prevent these threats almost everywhere.

Today, pedestrian zones typically have a hard barrier to prevent the ramming of automobiles into crowds.  In many markets, entrance is strictly controlled with bag and body searches. Unusually for Germany, where police are rarely seen in everyday life, there is a heavy police presence, and surveillance cameras watching over every corner of the markets.

Thankfully, terrorism has not intimidated the people.  This year, attendance at the Christmas markets is projected to break record numbers finally returning to pre-pandemic levels.

Despite everything, more than 3000 Christkindlmarkt or Weihnachtsmarkt, as they are referred to regionally, occur in Germany today.  Generating billions in Euros, these markets are vital to a struggling German economy. And this is nothing new. Although they’ve become associated with Christmas, the oldest Christmas markets started as secular, not religious events. Medieval communities would gather in late fall and early winter to sell products and purchase supplies needed before the arrival of the harsh winter months.

Market days often coincided with Christian feast days. Local people would walk to town to worship and then stay to shop at the market. Before the Protestant Reformation,  December 6, the Feast of St Nicholas, was a traditional time for children to receive gifts. Parents would buy their children toys at the market and leave them in their children’s shoes during the night to honor the good bishop of Myra (a charming custom but also a precursor of Western consumerism).

The Dresden Christmas market is known as the Striezelmarkt and began in 1434, not as a Christmas market but as a meat market where town citizens could purchase Christmas roasts to break the Advent fast. Christmas liturgical symbols were adapted and assimilated as these December markets grew in popularity.

The relationship between the Church and the Christmas markets has always been somewhat ambivalent. Catholic and Protestant clergy understood both the spiritual and economic importance of these markets. They encouraged worship during the season, but were also happy to charge rent for vendors’ stalls, often located in the churchyard.

German bishops today are notoriously reticent about evangelization in the public square. But at least some view the markets as an opportunity, as a place where the symbols of the Christian faith can be embraced openly.  And as some German bishops will say to a sympathetic American in private, the widespread sense of the failure of progressivism is an opening for the faith, if the Church has the wisdom to take advantage of it.

So maybe it is not so surprising that in the center of almost every market in secular progressive Germany, there is still a crèche and a Christmas tree, though in some places the connection to Christ is being played down. For example, a number of years ago in Wiesbaden,  a small city located outside of Frankfurt, the town council decided to change the Christmas market name to the “Shooting Star” market in order to be more “inclusive.”  Other places have made similar changes – and been mocked in the media for these “woke” adaptations. But whatever that means, there is usually still a crèche, and the locals still refer to it as the Weihnachtsmarktt or Christmas market. And these crèches continue to be quite elaborate, with real animals and actors or locally hand-carved statues.

Since re-unification, a new tradition has come to the western part of Germany. Towns erect large Christmas pyramids, Weihnachtspyramiden. These multitiered wooden structures, which originated in the Eastern mountains, are decorated with liturgical symbols, saints, and scenes from the Nativity of Our Lord.

Traditions are hard to kill, especially Christmas traditions.  Dirk Spenneman, a German scholar of cultural history, who was born in Mainz and raised in Frankfurt, grew up in a family that attended the Christmas markets. In his view, the cultural significance of these markets cannot be underestimated in knitting families and communities together; in creating and preserving a cultural heritage when much of it seems to be disappearing.

For him, like generations of German children, standing under the twinkling lights, hearing the joy-filled sounds of family, and smelling savory market foods made a powerful impression that Spenneman cherishes and hopes will pass on to future generations.

Ironically, some of Europe’s most beautiful and oldest markets are not in Germany, but in Alsace, the eastern region of France bordering Germany. Even small towns often have a Christkindelsmarik, which in the Alsatian dialect translates as the Market of the Christ Child.

French Catholics dive into Advent festivities with Gallic gusto. Along with the increased emphasis on liturgical celebrations, which has recently arisen in France, there are public Christmas displays outside homes with elaborate decorations.

In fact, the earliest parish record of the purchase of a Christmas tree dates back to 1521 in Sélestat, France, whereas in Germany only to 1605 in the Cathedral of Strasbourg (then a German city). Originally, these Christmas trees would be suspended from a beam in the ceiling. Tree decorations consisted of red apples, as a reminder of temptation, and Communion wafers, symbolizing the Redemption. Today, the Christmas tree in the Strasbourg market, firmly planted in the ground, is reported to be the tallest in France.

In spite of the many challenges to the Faith in the world today, holding a steaming mug of Gluhwein, standing under an ancient bell tower or cathedral spire, in the midst of a Christmas Market, is to understand viscerally a depth of warmth and light that ultimately emanates from the Christ Child. Many despair of Christianity in Germany, but the endurance of Christmas Markets may be a sign of hope in a dark winter’s night.