In Colombia, days before Catholic homes and parishes put up decorations of the magi carrying gifts or prepare their crèches for the birth of the baby Jesus, late on December 7, the candles arrive. On the eve of the feast of the Immaculate Conception, on what is known as La Noche de las Velitas, the night of the candles, Catholics place candles on the streets so as to form a path toward a home or to mark the entrance to a church.
Lightning a candle is a symbol of the coming of the Lord, says Father Jorge Ramírez, pastor of Holy Trinity Church in Webster, New York. And, he says, this is true “not only on Christmas, but in the parousia (the second coming of Jesus). Jesus Christ, the light of the world, is coming through our mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary.”
Ramirez fondly remembers ushering in this holy time in the much warmer climates of his native Colombia. “This is the official celebration that opens the Christmas season in Colombia,” he says. “Families and friends gather together on sidewalks and streets and light candles of many colors. I love this tradition.”
In 2023, Ramírez introduced La Noche de las Velitas to his parish in Western New York. “Even though we cannot light candles in our streets because it is too cold, I try to teach people in the different parishes that I’ve worked with [in the United States] about this wonderful Colombian tradition,” he says.
“People loved it,” Ramírez says, describing the first time his Webster parish celebrated the night of candles. “My parishioners enjoyed this tradition for the simplicity and beauty of lighting a candle in honor to our mother, the Blessed Virgin Mary.”
By introducing celebrations and customs such as the Noche de las Velitas, foreign-born Catholics such as Ramírez, who hails from the city of Medellín in Colombia, have added a new flavor to Advent and Christmas traditions from around the world at the U.S. parishes they now call home.
Many established Christmas customs in the United States were once beloved religious customs and practices brought by previous generations of Catholic migrants from Europe. In 2018, the Catholic Legal Immigration Network, known as CLINIC, listed the “immigrant origins of Christmas” in the United States. This included such things as Christmas cards, which were first created in England but became popular in the United States in 1875 thanks to a Prussian immigrant. Eggnog, today a Christmas staple, was also brought to the United States by English immigrants in the 1700s.
CLINIC also pointed out that wrapping gifts is an Asian tradition that started before Christ. And gingerbread was popularized through the Brothers Grimm story of Hansel and Gretel; Pennsylvanian German immigrants brought the tradition to the United States.
Likewise, in December 2023, USA Today listed seven “beloved Christmas traditions” around the world that got their start outside of the United States, including Santa Claus, a “hybrid of the Green Saint Nicholas, England’s Father Christmas, and the Dutch Sinterklaas”; the Christmas Tree; and Christmas dinner.
While the above all have Northern European origins, USA Today also listed more recent culinary imports, including the Italian American Feast of the Seven Fishes on Christmas Eve, the Mexican American tradition of eating tamales before or after Midnight Mass, and the Chinese custom of eating roast duck around Christmas.
Today, newer waves of Catholic immigrants are doing the same as these previous generations of Catholics, exposing their customs and practices to a broader population. According to figures from a 2014 Pew Research Center Religious Landscape Study, in 2010, 30 percent of the nation’s 75.4 million Catholics were born outside the United States. And they are bringing their customs with them, so Christmas traditions from around the world are now a part of parish life here.
For example, many U.S. Catholics know about the popular Mexican feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe celebrated on December 12. However, says Ramírez, they know little of what the Feast of the Immaculate Conception means for Catholics who hail from Latin America. “Mary has a very special role during Advent and, of course, Christmas. Parishioners feel closer to our Lord through his beloved mother,” he says.
As the Colombian population grows in the United States, Noche de las Velitas events have popped up in places such as Madison, New Jersey; Charlotte, North Carolina; Arlington, Virginia; and Washington, D.C.
Many U.S. Catholics are also coming into contact with Christmas traditions from around the world such as Simbang Gabi, a series of Masses Filipino Catholics celebrate during the nine days before Christmas. Today, this holiday is celebrated in parishes from Los Angeles to New York and various points in between, such as Milwaukee, Detroit, and Chicago—all places with significant populations of Filipino Catholics.
Simbang Gabi shares several similarities with Noche de Las Velitas; light is an important element in the holiday, and those who participate carry paper lanterns. Candles are also an important element of both traditions. Like Noche de las Velitas, Simbang Gabi emphasizes the role of Mary ahead of the birth of Jesus. Although it doesn’t start on the feast of the Immaculate Conception, some people say it offers a way to accompany Mary until the birth of Jesus.
Today, Simbang Gabi Masses typically begin around December 16 and continue until Christmas Eve. The observance goes back to when friars arrived from Spain in the 16th century to the archipelago of islands that is today the Philippines. They introduced Simbang Gabi, translated as “Mass of the rooster.”
The priests were intent on having farmers participate in Mass in the days leading up to Christmas, but the farmers would often go off to work in the fields early in the morning. To allow them to participate in Mass, the missionary fathers introduced “Simbang Gabi,” Masses that took place as early as 3 or 4 a.m., when the roosters first crowed at the start of the day.
As Filipinos migrated to the United States, they brought with them Simbang Gabi. Today, Filipinos are the third largest group of Asians in the United States, and it is not uncommon to find a local parish taking part in the celebration.
Indeed, in 2019, Pope Francis thanked Filipinos around the world for sharing Simbang Gabi with others and said that thanks to them “this devotion has crossed national borders and has arrived in many other countries.”
In the United States, however, many parishes have altered the traditional Mass schedules to fit modern work schedules. Instead of at the first rooster crow, the Masses often take place closer to 6 a.m., allowing people time to head to work, as well as in the evening hours, for those who want to participate after work.
After Mass, participants share Filipino treats such as roasted corn, rice cakes, and ginger tea—treats that, in the Philippines, they would often eat outside the church. However, December weather in much of the United States often makes this impractical, moving the celebration into parish halls. In addition, while in the Philippines participants bought food from vendors, participants in the United States usually bring treats to share with others.
Just as Filipino Catholics have adapted Simbang Gabi for a new country, other Catholic newcomers, too, have had to adapt their celebrations to suit the weather, landscapes, distances, and social customs of new lands.
Daughter of Mary Sister Jane Frances Nabakaawa has brought a taste of Advent and Christmastime from her native Uganda to her new home in Chicago, even though it’s a little challenging to replicate it in the Windy City.
In Uganda, Nabakaawa would take part in an Advent custom where, a few days before Christmas, groups of people travel by foot from one village to the other, playing the drums and bringing gifts for the underprivileged. Even those who are not Catholic join the group as it goes out to spread joy from village to village.
The music, the focus on helping the poor, and the dancing, singing, drumming, and resulting joy signaled that something great was coming, she says. “Jesus is among the people we serve, the people we live with.”
Nabakaawa remembers that, in the spirit of the magi, the traveling groups shared what little they had with those who had less along the way—their modern-day fortunes, food, and clothes but also the spirit of music.
These days, living in Chicago with its frigid winters, Nabakaawa has adapted the custom to fit the climate and the community she serves as coordinator of faith formation for children.
Ahead of Christmas, she teaches children to sing a Ugandan song and asks them to save any amount of money they can to buy scarves, crucial accessories for Chicago’s winters. As Christmas nears, they head to various homes for the elderly, sing the song Nabakaawa has taught them, and spend time with the residents.
“You can’t go from village to village here,” she says, but you can go from one home to another.
When they arrive at the residences, the children greet those who live there and give them their scarves. She hopes that next year she can introduce African drumming during these pre-Christmas visits.
“[The children] go to be light for those people who may need a special joy on this Christmas,” Nabakaawa says. “The elderly are often in pain, some of them are lonely.”
The children can make residents feel that they are cared for and loved, she says. “And the children learn that Jesus is among us or is in everybody, but he is most obviously present among people who are less privileged.”
Such activities safeguard important cultural and religious customs and practices, but they also provide comfort and a sense of home for Catholics who come to the United States from other countries, says Daughter of Immaculate Mary of Guadalupe Sister Claudia Carrillo. She adds that the goal of celebrating these traditions is to integrate others in the community who may not be familiar with such practices and provide an opportunity to show how faith and the love of God fit into new cultures.
Every year, the Catholic school on the South Side of Chicago where Carrillo serves takes part in las Posadas, a nine-day observance that seeks to replicate the holy family’s journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem right before the birth of Jesus.
Posada means shelter in Spanish, and those who participate in the observance take part in a procession that goes from one house to another (or one classroom to another), as two people playing Joseph and Mary knock on a door and ask for shelter but are refused. It is a based on an account in Luke’s gospel that says the holy family was turned away because the inns were full, which, according to tradition, subsequently led Mary to give birth to Jesus in a stable.
In Mexico, where faith and popular practices are often fused, the Posadas are a community event, witnessed and participated in outdoors, in big and small cities, at churches, schools, and convents. But in the United States, Carrillo says, “many families, because of work or because of time” have stopped making time to take part in the observance.
“That’s where the Catholic schools come into play, particularly in the formation or catechesis of children,” Carrillo says. “We try to organize Posadas for those families who once took part in them [in their native countries] and for those who are from other places and don’t know much about them. We teach, explain, and invite people to participate.”
Children learn why the holy family was looking for shelter and where they went to find it. They also take part in the celebratory aspects of the Posadas, sharing food and drinks; they also receive English and Spanish prayer cards, which explain the observance and tradition of the Posadas.
“We’re not trying to impose a devotion. We want to help them to nurture a relationship with God. We give them little prayer cards or offer an activity so that they will do something special in their homes on December 24 or 25,” Carrillo says. “It’s important for families to know that God is not only to be found inside the church, but that they need to [dedicate] a sacred space at home so they can connect with God wherever they might find themselves. Of course, the church is very important, and we find Jesus in it in a special manner. But, if people take the presence of God to their homes, by way of symbols or signs, well, then, their love of God can grow and strengthen.”
Not all important Christmas traditions take place in public. Foreign-born Catholics also add unique touches inside their homes to remind them of Christmas in their native countries. For Marlene Aquino, that means setting up a crèche in her Maryland home with clay figures molded by artisans from Ilobasco, a town known for its artwork in her native El Salvador. Around the star figures of the crèche—the holy family, the magi, and the barn animals—she places tortilla makers, farm workers, and other rural denizens going about their day as they observe the birthday of the baby Jesus.
In her first years in the United States, in the 1980s, Aquino also remembers setting up what many in the United States might have thought an unusual Christmas tree: one crafted out of a dead branch.
Because few places in tropical El Salvador have pine trees, Catholic Salvadorans traditionally made Christmas trees from dead branches, spray painting them gold and placing tinsel and cotton as well as ornaments around them. With the abundance of artificial evergreens nowadays, however, it’s a tradition that is slowly disappearing, Aquino says.
Aquino also says that food plays an important part in her celebration of Christmas, as it does in other cultures. For her, that means tamales, as well as a special Salvadoran chicken or turkey sandwich that families make while spending time together.
The point of any Advent or Christmas observation is to grow closer to Jesus by focusing on those who need him, says Nabakaawa. That means being with family but also being with those who do not have family nearby or who are facing struggles such as loneliness or illness. Taking part in some of these Christmas traditions from around the world may help people reflect on who might need help or kickstart some of the joy a person needs and to share it with others.
What’s important, says Carrillo, is to take those symbols of togetherness and shape them into a universal experience that will bring families toward an encounter with Christ through one another, with prayer as well as the joy that can be found in unique cultural Christmas celebrations.
These celebrations should cause jubilation that will lead toward Jesus, says Nabakaawa. “People have to celebrate Christmas and jubilate in it, because it’s something joyful to be with Jesus,” she says. “We have to be light for those people who may need a special joy on Christmas.”
And while food and drink can be part of a celebration, people also can express Christmas joy by seeking out those who are suffering in any part of the world they might find themselves, Nabakaawa says.
“We have to say, ‘Who are those ones who are underprivileged? Who are those ones who cannot have joy on that particular day?’ ” she says. “Just as Ugandans do before they set out on a trek to personally welcome and say Merry Christmas to others.”
This article also appears in the December 2024 issue of U.S. Catholic (Vol. 89, No. 12, pages 26-30). Click here to subscribe to the magazine.
Header image: Shutterstock.com/Nowaczyk
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