What lies beneath
First Christmas by Mark Spears Courtesy of the artist
That first Christmas is surrounded with uncertainty. Christ’s birth-date is not known, and for three centuries it was a movable feast until Pope Julius I settled on December 25. And a manger? And shepherds? And angels heard on high?
But it all adds up to a glorious, heart-warming story. Christmas replaced Saturnalia and other early pagan festivals but mistletoe, holly, ivy and excessive eating and drinking belonged to both.
Though the commercialisation of Christmas has been with us since Hallowe’en, perfect, glowing Christmas scenes still feature on most Christmas cards. Yet Christmas is different in different places. The Swedish Santa Claus is small and thin; in Syria, no ‘Ho! Ho! Ho!’ overweight man but a camel brings children gifts; France favours oysters and goose because a clucking goose greeted the Wise Men; Estonians eat blood sausage, turnips and potatoes; Armenians eat fried fish, lettuce and boiled spinach, honouring the Virgin Mary, who ate spinach the evening before giving birth. And in Bavaria, 200 marksmen gather at midnight on Christmas Eve above the Berchtesgaden valley and shoot rifles for an hour. A Christmas commotion.
Born 1975, Mark Spears, a MICA comic artist, lives in Alabama, and has had “an amazing blessed life and career in art”. Spears works mainly with Marvel Comics, DC Comics, Image Comics, Warner Bros, Star Trek, Harry Potter and Universal Monsters but in this image Batman and Spider-Man are replaced by the two iconic presences.
“Growing up,’ says Spears, “we had a picture of The Head
of Christ by Warner Sallman in a room and I always loved the way it looked. Around 2005 I was asked by churches to do some murals and portraits, and the image of Santa Claus and baby Jesus just popped in my head a few years ago at Christmas time, and it turned out pretty much the way I envisioned it.”
The squeaky-clean, brightly-lit babe in the manger looks somewhat astonished at this unexpected visitor. That brightness is also captured in Santa’s hair and fur trimming; reverentially hatless and on one knee, he gazes at this newborn who will change the world.
Everything — the clothes, the floor, the dark background — is warm and soft and flowing. The spiritual and the commercial are side by side. And Santa’s presence has replaced the presents. That child is all right. Gold, frankincense and myrrh are on their way.