We’ve heard it so many times that it’s practically part of the Christmas story itself.
The Romans celebrated their seven-day winter festival, Saturnalia, starting on December 17. It was a thoroughly pagan affair full of debauchery and the worship of the god Saturn. To mark the end of the winter solstice, the Roman emperor established December 25 as a feast to Sol Invictus (the Unconquered Sun). Wanting to make Christianity more palatable to the Romans and more popular with the people, the church co-opted these pagan festivals and put the celebration of the birth of their Savior on December 25. For whatever the Christmas holiday has become today, it started as a copycat of well-established pagan holidays. If you like Christmas, you have Saturnalia and Sol Invictus to thank.
That’s the story, and everyone from liberal Christians to conservative Christians to non-Christians seem to agree that it’s true.
Except that it isn’t.
For starters, we should distinguish between roots that suggest a rip-off and roots that suggest a rebuke. The presence of some connection between a Christian celebration and a pagan celebration could imply a synchronistic copy-cat (“Hey, let’s Christianize this popular pagan holiday so as to make our celebration more palatable”), or it could mean a deliberate rejection (“Hey, this pagan holiday is horrible, so let’s put something distinctively Christian in its place”). After the conversion of Constantine in the fourth century, Christians did sometimes adapt and Christianize pagan festivals. Whether they did so wisely and effectively is open to historical debate, but the motivation was to transform the paganism of the Roman world rather than raze it to the ground. Even if Christmas was plopped down on December 25 because of Saturnalia and Sol Invictus, that by itself does not entail that the Christian celebration of Christ’s birth really began as a pagan festival.
But in the case of Christmas, there is good evidence that December 25 was not chosen because of any pagan winter holidays. This is the argument Andrew McGowan, of Yale Divinity School, makes in his article “How December 25 Became Christmas” (first published in Bible Review in 2002). Let me try to distill McGowan’s fine historical work by addressing three questions.
When did Christians first start celebrating the birth of Jesus on December 25?
Unlike Easter, which developed as a Christian holiday much earlier, there is no mention of birth celebrations from the earliest church fathers. Christian writers like Irenaeus (130-200) and Tertullian (160-225) say nothing about a festival in honor of Christ’s birth, and Origen (165-264) even mocks Roman celebrations of birth anniversaries as pagan practices. This is a pretty good indication that Christmas was not yet on the ecclesiastical calendar (or at least not widespread), and that if it were, it would not have been tied to a similar Roman holiday.
This does not mean, however, that no one was interested in the date of Christ’s birth. By the late second century, there was considerable interest in dating the birth of Jesus, with Clement of Alexandria (150-215) noting several different proposals, none of which was December 25. The first mention of December 25 as Jesus’s birthday comes from a mid-fourth-century almanac called the Philocalian Calendar. A few decades later, around AD 400, Augustine would indicate that the Donatists kept Christmas festivals on December 25 but refused to celebrate Epiphany on January 6 because they thought the latter date was a recent invention. Since the Donatists, who arose during the persecution under Diocletian in 312, were stubbornly opposed to any compromise with their Roman oppressors, we can be quite certain they did not consider the celebration of Christmas, or the date of December 25, to be pagan in origin. McGowan concludes that there must have been an older North African tradition that the Donatists were steeped in and, therefore, the earliest celebrations of Christmas (we know about) can be dated to the second half of the third century. This is well before Constantine and during a time period when Christians were trying to steadfastly avoid any connections to pagan religion.
When was it first suggested that Christmas grew out of pagan origins?
None of the church fathers in the first centuries of the church makes any reference to a supposed connection between Christmas and Saturnalia or Sol Invictus. You might think, Well of course they didn’t. That would have been embarrassing. But if the whole point of basing your Christian birth holiday on an existing pagan birth holiday is to make your religion more popular or more understandable, surely someone would say something. Besides, as McGowan points out, it’s not like future Christian leaders shied away from making these connections. Gregory the Great, writing in 601, urged Christian missionaries to turn pagan temples into churches and to repurpose pagan festivals into feast days for Christian martyrs.
There is no suggestion that the birth of Jesus was set at the time of pagan holidays until the 12th century, when Dionysius bar-Salibi stated that Christmas was moved from January 6 to December 25 to correspond with Sol Invictus. Centuries later, post-Enlightenment scholars of comparative religions began popularizing the idea that the early Christians retrofitted winter solstice festivals for their own purposes. For the first millennium of the church’s history, no one made that connection.
Why do we celebrate Christmas on December 25?
The first answer to the question is that some Christians don’t. In the Eastern branch of the church, Christmas is celebrated on January 6, probably for the same reasons—according to a different calculation—that Christmas came to be celebrated on December 25 in the West. Although we can’t be positive, there is good reason to think that December 25 became the date for Christmas because of its connection to the (presumed) date of Jesus’s death and to the date of Jesus’s conception.
There are three dates at play in this calculation. Let’s start with the date of Jesus’s death.
Around AD 200, Tertullian of Carthage noted that Jesus died on the 14th day of Nisan, which was equivalent to March 25 in the Roman solar calendar. In the East, they made their calculation using the 14th day of the first spring month in their local Greek calendar. In the Roman calendar, this was April 6. So depending on who you asked, Jesus died on either March 25 or April 6.
In both the West and the East, there developed the same tradition that Jesus died on the same date he was conceived. An anonymous Christian treatise from fourth-century North Africa stated that March 25 was “the day of the passion of the Lord and of his conception. For on that day he was conceived on the same he suffered.” Augustine in On the Trinity mentioned that same calculation. Similarly, in the East, the fourth-century bishop Epiphanius of Salamis maintained that on April 6 Christ took away the sins of the world and on the same date was “shut up in the spotless womb of the holy virgin.” The fact that this curious tradition existed in two different parts of the world suggests it may have been rooted in more than mere speculation. If nothing else, as McGowan observes, these early Christians were borrowing from an ancient Jewish tradition that said that the most important events of creation and redemption occurred at the same time of the year.
From the date of Christ’s death, to the (same) date of his conception, we can easily see where the date of Christmas could have come from. If Jesus was conceived on March 25, then the best date to celebrate his birth must be nine months later on December 25 (or, in the East, January 6). While we can’t know for certain that this is where December 25 came from—and we certainly can’t be dogmatic about the historicity of the date—there is much better ancient evidence to suggest that our date for Christmas is tied to Christ’s death and conception than tied to the pagan celebrations of Saturnalia and Sol Invictus.

Kevin DeYoung (PhD, University of Leicester) is senior pastor of Christ Covenant Church in Matthews, North Carolina, Council member of The Gospel Coalition, and associate professor of systematic theology at Reformed Theological Seminary (Charlotte). He has written numerous books, including Just Do Something. Kevin and his wife, Trisha, have nine children: Ian, Jacob, Elizabeth, Paul, Mary, Benjamin, Tabitha, Andrew, and Susannah.

In our last episode of the season Collin, Justin, and I sit down with Marvin Olasky, editor of WORLD Magazine, to talk about his new book, Lament for a Father: The Journey to Understanding and Forgiveness, where he puts all his journalistic expertise and experience into uncovering the story of his father.

Timestamps:
Do you want to hear about Abraham Lincoln? [0:00 – 1:13]
The Perfect Sponsor Book for LBE [1:13 – 1:53]
Marvin Olasky [1:53 – 5:05]
WORLD Magazine [5:05 – 8:10]
Lament for a Father [8:10 – 13:34]
From Success to Failure [13:34 – 18:52]
The Turning Point [18:52 – 24:08]
The Mercy of Reticence [24:08 – 30:20]
Mother’s Story [30:20 – 35:49]
Iron-Clad Chain, Daisy Chain [35:49 – 41:52]
Don’t Wait Until You’re Seventy [41:52 – 47:55]
The Single Biggest Social Problem in America [47:55 – 50:41]
Book Recommendations [50:41 – 53:25]
Advice for Those with Bad or Good Fathers [53:25 – 56:30]
Books and Everything:
Messages from My Father: A Memoir, by Calvin Trillin

Kevin DeYoung (PhD, University of Leicester) is senior pastor of Christ Covenant Church in Matthews, North Carolina, Council member of The Gospel Coalition, and associate professor of systematic theology at Reformed Theological Seminary (Charlotte). He has written numerous books, including Just Do Something. Kevin and his wife, Trisha, have nine children: Ian, Jacob, Elizabeth, Paul, Mary, Benjamin, Tabitha, Andrew, and Susannah.

First off, my usual disclaimer and explanation.
This list is not meant to assess the thousands of good books published in 2021. There are plenty of worthy titles that I am not able to read (and lots I never hear of). This is simply a list of the books (Christian and non-Christian, but all non-fiction) that I thought were the best in the past year. “Best” doesn’t mean I agreed with everything in them; it means I found these books—all published in 2021 (or the very end of 2020)—a strong combination of thoughtful, useful, interesting, helpful, insightful, and challenging.
Instead of trying to rank the books 1-10 (always a somewhat arbitrary task), I’ll simply list them in alphabetical order by the author’s last name.
Special Note: in addition to the Top 10 list, I’ve included a number of other books I’ve enjoyed in the past year. Don’t miss all the bonus books mentioned at the end of the post! Now on to this year’s list.
Erika Bachiochi, The Rights of Women: Reclaiming a Lost Vision (University of Notre Dame)
I admit, I’ve never thought of Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-97) as a possible source of conservative wisdom, but Bachiochi brilliantly employs Wollstonecraft’s 18th century feminist vision as a counterpoint to the moral bankruptcy that characterizes too much of contemporary feminism. At the heart of Bachiochi’s prescription is the contention that the best feminism is pro-woman, pro-family, and pro-children. She also insists, along with Wollstonecraft, that male infidelity is, in many ways, the problem to be remedied, and certainly not a lifestyle for the “liberated” woman to imitate.
Katy Faust and Stacy Manning, Them Before Us: Why We Need a Global Children’s Rights Movement (Post Hill)
Speaking of family and children, Faust and Manning argue forcefully that if we really want to put children first (“them before us”), we must be honest about how the sexual revolution, new reproductive technologies, and new familial arrangements are undeniably harmful to the most vulnerable among us. This book is a good one-stop guide to much of the latest sociological and biological research on marriage, family, and human flourishing.
Bruce Gordon and Carl Trueman, eds., The Oxford Handbook of Calvin and Calvinism (Oxford)
Gordon and Trueman are to be commended for commissioning an outstanding collection of chapters, written by outstanding scholars and covering a wide array of topics. With chapters on standard and excellent topics like Knox and Calvin, Calvinism in Germany, and Calvin among the Puritans, as well as “newer” topics covering the influence of Calvinism in places like China, Brazil, and Ghana, everyone interested in Calvinism should be interested in this book. The last chapter on “The New Calvinism” is a fair and evenhanded summary of the Young, Restless, and Reformed movement. This hefty volume is a terrific resource for pastors, scholars, and students.

Crawford Gribben, Survival and Resistance in Evangelical America: Christian Reconstruction in the Pacific Northwest (Oxford)
I’ve recommended this book many times in the last several months. If you want to see what fair-minded, contemporary historical research looks like (as opposed to advocacy historiography), this is a great example. With an even-handed approach, Gribben explores the growth of the Christian Reconstruction movement in places like Moscow, Idaho. What is Doug Wilson up to? This book tries to answer that question, without telling you whether the project is good or bad or something in between.

David Haines, Natural Theology: A Biblical and Historical Introduction and Defense (Davenant Press)
No doubt, we are seeing in our day a renewed appreciation among Protestants for natural theology. This is a good thing, and Haines shows us why. With an emphasis on the Greeks and the Romans and the first centuries of the church, Haines makes the convincing case that natural theology has been around a long time, is taught in the Bible, and has been the default position in the Western Church (Catholic and Protestant) until the last century.

Allen C. Guelzo, Robert E. Lee: A Life (Knopf)

Guelzo is one of the finest living historians. His research is impeccable, his prose memorable, and his insights provocative. All Guelzo’s learning and lucidity are on display in this magisterial biography. Oh, and he gives a great podcast interview.

John W. Kleinig, Wonderfully Made: A Protestant Theology of the Body (Lexham Press)
Written from a Lutheran perspective, I didn’t agree with every jot and tittle of Kleinig’s theology. But overall, it was a refreshing, positive, unflinching exploration of what Christians ought to believe, and should be teaching, in these crazy times. We need as many good Christian books about the body as we can get. This was a very good one.

Stephen Nichols, R.C. Sproul: A Life (Crossway)
This book was a pleasure to read. I think I devoured it in two sittings. Nichols has a flair for biographical writing, and Sproul makes a great subject for biographical history. I knew much of the broad outline of R.C.’s life, but I learned a lot I didn’t know. Anyone who has benefited from a Sproul book or lecture or sermon will enjoy this book.

Gary L. Steward, Justifying Revolution: The American Clergy’s Argument for Public Resistance 1750-1776 (Oxford)
Not everyone is into revised doctoral dissertations, but this one was particularly interesting. Did pastors support the American Revolution because they had become Republicans more than Christians and had drunk too deeply of Enlightenment wells? Or were they drawing upon an older Reformed tradition in resisting British tyranny? Steward makes a good case for the latter.

Scott Yenor, The Recovery of Family Life: Exposing the Limits of Modern Ideologies (Baylor)
Do we need another book aimed at undermining the sexual revolution? Given the way the revolution continues to roll on and roll over everything in its way, the answer, Yenor argues, is yes. This is a bracing analysis of how incoherent our modern assumptions have become and how the family suffers as a result.

*****
And now for more books! This isn’t everything I’ve read in the past year, but here are a few dozen other books I read in 2021. You may want to check out some of these titles (even if I don’t agree with everything in every book).
Five of my favorite (non-2021) books:
David Calhoun, Princeton Seminary, Volumes 1 and 2 (Banner of Truth, 1994, 1996)Wilfred McClay, Land of Hope: An Invitation to the Great American Story (Encounter, 2019)Te-Li Lau, Defending Shame: Its Formative Power in Paul’s Letters (Baker Academic, 2020)Andrew Roberts, Churchill: Walking with Destiny (Viking, 2018)James S. Stewart, Heralds of God: A Practical Book on Preaching (Regent, 2001)
Books from 2021 that I just started and look forward to reading more:
H.W. Brands, Our First Civil War: Patriots and Loyalists in the American Revolution (Doubleday)Jay Cost, James Madison: America’s First Politician (Basic Books)Benjamin M. Friedman, Religion and the Rise of Capitalism (Knopf)Jonathan Gibson, Be Thou My Vision: A Liturgy for Daily Worship (Crossway)Arthur Herman, The Viking Heart: How Scandinavians Conquered the World (Mariner Books)
Books on productivity and time management:
Jake Knapp and John Zeratsky, Make Time: How to Focus on What Matters Every Day (Currency, 2018)Cal Newport, A World Without Email: Reimagining Work in an Age of Communication Overload (Penguin, 2021)Greg McKeown, Effortless: Make it Easier to Do What Matters (Currency, 2021)Oliver Burkman, Four Thousand Weeks: Time Management for Mortals (Farrar, Strauss, Giroux, 2021)Jordan Raynor, Redeeming Your Time: 7 Biblical Principles for Being Purposeful, Present and Wildly Productive (Waterbrook, 2021)
Books on politics and economics and social issues:
Russell Kirk, Concise Guide to Conservatism (Regnery, 2019)Russell Kirk, The Conservative Mind: From Burke to Eliot, 7th rev. ed. (Gateway, 2019)William Julius Wilson, More than Just Race: Being Black and Poor in the Inner City (Norton)Glenn S. Sunshine, Slaying Leviathan (Canon Press, 2021)Thaddeus Williams, Confronting Injustice without Compromising Truth (Zondervan, 2020)James R. Otteson, Seven Deadly Economic Sins (Cambridge, 2021)Wilfred Reilly, Taboo: Ten Facts You Can’t Talk About (Regnery, 2020).Leonard Sax, Why Gender Matters, 2nd Ed (Harmony, 2017);
Books on history and historical figures:
Danny E. Olinger, Geerhardus Vos: Reformed Biblical Theologian, Confessional Presbyterian (Reformed Forum, 2018)Iain Murray, “The Life of John Murray” in Collected Writings of John Murray, Volume 3 (Banner of Truth, 1982)Edward H. Bonekemper III, The Myth of the Lost Cause (Regnery History, 2015)Lucas E. Morel, Lincoln and the American Founding (SIU Press, 2020)Allen C. Guelzo, Redeeming the Great Emancipator (Harvard, 2016)Jason Riley, Maverick: A Biography of Thomas Sowell (Basic Books, 2021)Steven Ozment, Ancestors: The Loving Family in Old Europe (Harvard, 2001)Steven Ozment, When Fathers Ruled: Family Life in Reformation Europe (Harvard, 1983)H.W. Brands, The Zealot and the Emancipator: John Brown, Abraham Lincoln, and the Struggle for American Freedom (Doubleday, 2020)Ritchie Robertson, The Enlightenment: The Pursuit of Happiness 1680-1790 (Harper, 2021).
Books on theology:
Donald Macleod, Christ Crucified: Understanding the Atonement (IVP Academic, 2014)Donald Macleod, The Person of Christ (IVP, 1998)Donald Macleod, Therefore the Truth I Speak: Scottish Theology 1500-1700 (Mentor, 2020)Michael J. Kruger, Surviving Religion 101: Letters to a Christian Student on Keeping the Faith in College (Crossway, 2021)James Buchanan, The Doctrine of Justification (Banner of Truth, 2016)Stephen J. Grabill, Rediscovering the Natural Law in Reformed Theological Ethics (Eerdmans, 2006)Michael Allen and Scott Swain, eds., The Oxford Handbook of Reformed Theology (OUP, 2020)David Fergusson and Mark W. Elliott, The History of Scottish Theology, 3 Volumes (OUP, 2019)Doug Moo, The Theology of Paul and His Letters (Zondervan Academic, 2021)G.K. Chesteron, The Everlasting Man (Ignatius, 1925)

Kevin DeYoung (PhD, University of Leicester) is senior pastor of Christ Covenant Church in Matthews, North Carolina, Council member of The Gospel Coalition, and associate professor of systematic theology at Reformed Theological Seminary (Charlotte). He has written numerous books, including Just Do Something. Kevin and his wife, Trisha, have nine children: Ian, Jacob, Elizabeth, Paul, Mary, Benjamin, Tabitha, Andrew, and Susannah.