Morsels of Truth
Vanočka is a large, sweet, braided bread sparingly filled with dried fruits and topped with toasted almonds and powdered sugar. It adorns nearly every Czech table during the advent season, and otherwise. It has become such a favored feature of Czech cuisine that it is available in nearly every bakery year-round. However, it is at Christmas that the bread assumes all of its nostalgic power and the “real” vanočka loaves appear, the ones prepared with care and attention to the finer details of the delicacy.
The history of vanočka bread is itself an homage to the Czech lands; complicated, paradoxical, and rich in history. If you understand just a bit of the history of this tasty morsel, you may even uncover a morsel of relevant truth for your own advent festivities.
The origin of vanočka is traced back to the 14th century treatise of Czech author, composer, theologian, linguist and ethnologist Jan of Holešov, who wrote extensively of the Christmas traditions celebrated by both Christians and pagans in his time and place. Holešov explicates the celebrations of the sacred and secular and delineates the belief systems at the heart of each group.
From Holešov we learn that Vanočka, for the believer, was originally infused with multiple teaching points to more effectively communicate the Christmas holiday. It begins with the acknowledgement that Bethlehem means “House of Bread” and is where the Christ child was born. The fruits in the bread signified that the birth of Christ was, “the most useful of fruits.” The braiding of the bread represented the swaddling of the baby Jesus. The vanočka should be sliced by each family member, with what was left of the loaf given to someone in need, remembering the poverty of our savior’s earthly arrival. In all, several symbolisms easily recited and remembered, in a time before scriptures were accessible to the common classes.
Obversely, a wealth of secular and pagan traditions are also associated with Vanočka. In pagan homes the leftover portion of the bread not sliced was not given to the poor, but instead left on the table as an offering to gods who would come and consume it in the night. In the last couple of centuries it became common for a coin to be baked into the loaf, with an omen of luck or good fortune forecasted for the one whose portion finds it. In a contrary gesture to sharing with the poor, those who consumed the largest portions or kept it to themselves would be guaranteed good fortune. Omens are also forecast in the reading of the cracks and burn marks of the loaf.
The transmogrification of the Vanočka loaf from sacred to secular may be a familiar pattern and in some way fulfill the ordinary expectations we regard such religiously imbued traditions. But let us reflect on our own customs and traditions this advent season. For as much as the sacred is corrupted to the secular, so too can such crooked paths be straightened again. Might we be well served to be attentive to our many customs, and imagine the ways they may be reflections of timeless truths and sanctified celebration? Customs and symbols are funny things in this way, they amplify the meaning we give them.