It can seem odd to see children parade with lanterns through German streets for St. Martin’s Day on November 11 while, at the same time, costumed carnival revelers shout “Alaaf” or “Helau.” Yet these two customs share a common origin stretching back centuries.
Bishop Martin of Tours died on November 8, 397 and was buried three days later — which explains why November 11, not the day of his death, became his feast day. The best-known legend from his life tells how, while a Roman soldier, he cut his cloak in half to share with a beggar. Martin is one of the few saints honored not for martyrdom but for charity and Christian living, becoming a popular patron for the poor as well as for craftsmen, winegrowers and farmers.
In the Middle Ages, St. Martin’s Day fell just after harvest time and marked the end of the farming year. The harvest and grape harvest were in, rents often paid (commonly with fattened geese), wages settled, and livestock slaughtered for winter provisions. That made November 11 a day to consume perishable foods like meat, eggs and dairy before a period of Church-ordered fasting.
Today it’s hard to imagine fasting before Christmas, but historically Advent was a strict six-week fast analogous to Lent. Advent began after November 11 and lasted until Christmas as a quiet preparation for Jesus’ birth. Over time the rules on Advent fasting relaxed and the Roman Catholic Church formally abolished it in 1917.
Before the austerity of Advent, people traditionally enjoyed one last bout of feasting, dancing and revelry. The number 11 itself played a role in this: lying between the sacred numbers 10 (the Commandments) and 12 (the apostles), 11 came to be associated with disorder, fools and jesters. That symbolism helped cement November 11 as the start of Carnival season: celebrations begin at 11:11 a.m. in Rhineland cities. Revelers mark the start loudly, then the festivities go into a quieter phase before reemerging in January and building to the big street carnivals in February that end on Ash Wednesday.
So the church’s quiet feast of St. Martin — with lantern processions, songs and an emphasis on sharing — and the boisterous start of Carnival coexist on the same date. They are complementary contrasts: one honors charity and light, the other revels in freedom and laughter. November 11 is a day of contrasts that reminds people both of compassion and of the simple need to celebrate.
This article was originally written in German.
