Tonight, December 24th, two days after the death and resurrection of the sun its self, an ancient and powerful ritual of global proportions will be performed, with the sole purpose of summoning a spirit into existence many centuries old. A spirit universally recognized, who transcends language, culture, geography, and faith. This spectre of good will, whose face is known to all, will be conjured in the largest ritual known to man.
The grimoire holding his conjuration is preserved in many parts across the globe. It is composed of sacred songs, rhythmic chants, whispered secrets, and painted instructions. It is hidden in ritual plays, disguised as popular music, shrouded in children's picture books, and passed down from father to son, mother to daughter, grandparent to grandchild, and magician to apprentice.
The ancient evocation of this grand spirit can be traced through history, and has performed every winter for centuries. From the Nordic Vikings, to the Byzantine Greeks, among the Dutch, the Danes, the Brits, and the peoples of all nations. This great compiled ceremony requires weeks to prepare and is anticipated all year long.
The rite it's self is simple, but powerful, and requires extraordinary preparation. For weeks in advance, men, women, and children the world over prepare the ritual space and create the proper atmosphere to allow the spirit to materialize on this plane.
They sacrifice evergreens and decorate them in effigy of the passing season, dressing them with astrological representations of mythological events, precious materials like those of grimoiric talismans, and historical representations of the conjurer's lives. They adorn the outer temple with colored lights to change the spiritual presence of the working space, erect statuary of the spirit and his traveling companions in honor of his summoning, hang protective herbs on the temple archways, and position lighted pentagrams pointed to the skies. They sing songs in his praise along with other musical invocations of seasonal tales, dress in ritual garb honoring his colors and mimicking his vestments, and perform ritual plays depicting his presence.
Many invoke adepts him into themselves, donning ceremonial masks depicting his image and acting on his behalf, as many more whisper secrets into the ears of his aspecting shamans hoping that he will hear them through those possessed and dedicated priests. And everywhere people of all classes and creeds prepare for the coming of this godlike being, speaking invocations to each other in passing and acquiring material sacrifices in his name. As they approach the hour of this magical rite all are filled with a hush of anticipation as the electricity of building ethereal potential heralds his appearance.
In silence his ritualists light candles and drink libations before setting an altar in reverence. His altar is adorned with offerings of pastries and milk and vegetables for his companions. Then the magic circle is left clear of prying eyes as the ritual gathers its strength and the archon is imbued with life.
The final evocation is performed by more than two billion children separated by seven continents, staggered in forty timezones, begin their evocation chant. With their eyes closed, and pouring their youthful will into the rite, a vast ocean of children chant an invocation in his name, each to their own language, chanting his many names, whispering invocations to the stars quietly in the dark until they drift into trances with images of his presence dancing through their astral dreams. On this night billions of adept mages join in the larges ritual circle possible, to chant and invoke this shared eidolon with more power than any other spirit has been afforded in any other rite throughout history or prehistory.
Tonight, the grimoire is opened, the temple is set, the spell is cast, and spirit will be summoned. The result of this massive invocation? What does this colossal red demon bring his summoners in the dead of night?
Peace on earth, and goodwill toward man.
For this one mystical night all weapons are laid to the side, all quarrels are forgiven, all wars are stayed, and all men and women look at each other as brothers and sisters sharing in this rite. The gift this great father of the season brings his supplicants is no less than the stillness of spirit that has eluded politicians, religious figures, or magicians. He brings us the joy of peace, the spirit of love, and the bonds of brotherhood, we long for.
And we thank this great being, summoned through our sweat, tears, laughter, and sacrifice, for his service to mankind.
Join this seasonal ritual, and tonight, expect your temple to be filled with the spirit we have prepared for. And on the morrow you will see the result of his invocation and share in his joy.
Happy Holy Days, fellow Occultists.