Honestly, most holiday songs are kind of exhausting. You’ve got the corporate jingles on repeat at the mall and those overly earnest hymns that feel a bit heavy if you aren't sitting in a pew. Then there is Dar Williams. In 1996, she released a track on her album Mortal City that managed to do something almost impossible: it made a song about religious conflict feel cozy.
Dar Williams Christians and the Pagans lyrics tell a story that feels like a short film. It’s Christmas Eve. A lesbian couple, Amber and Jane, find themselves in a bit of a bind while celebrating Solstice. They end up calling Amber’s devoutly Christian uncle. What follows isn’t a screaming match or a lecture on hellfire. It’s a dinner.
The Story Behind the Song
The setup is classic Dar. Amber calls her uncle because they need a place to stay. The uncle is busy watching his wife hang a "Mary on a tree" and his son decorating with candy canes full of Red Dye No. 3. It’s a vivid, slightly cluttered image of a traditional American suburban Christmas.
When Amber and Jane arrive, there is a clear tension. The uncle admits their life is "not your style." Amber’s response is the bridge that keeps the song—and the family—together: "Christmas is like Solstice, and we miss you and it’s been a while."
That line is everything. It shifts the conversation from theology to biology and history. It’s about the "miss you." It's about the fact that before we were believers or non-believers, we were just people shivering in the dark looking for a fire.
Why Timmy is the Secret Hero
Middle of the song, things get real. The food is great, the tree is lit, and everything is going fine until Timmy—the young cousin—bluntly asks, "Is it true that you're a witch?"
You can almost hear the silver hit the floor.
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His mom immediately tries to distract everyone by claiming the pumpkin pies are burning. It’s such a mom move. But Jane doesn’t dodge the question. She leans in. She explains that while they aren't Christians, they love the snow, the trees, and the "magic" found in the world.
She tells the kid that while he finds magic in his God, they find it everywhere. This isn't a debate. It's an invitation to see the world through a wider lens.
Breaking Down the Dar Williams Christians and the Pagans Lyrics
The chorus is the heartbeat of the track. It’s where the "common ground" happens.
So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table,
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able,
And just before the meal was served, hands were held and prayers were said,
Sending hope for peace on earth to all their gods and goddesses.
It’s a pluralistic prayer. It acknowledges that the uncle is praying to his God and the girls are thinking of their goddesses, but the "peace on earth" part is the same.
The Subtext of the Father and Son
The end of the song gets surprisingly emotional. Amber tries to help with the dishes, and her aunt tells her not to bother. In that moment, the uncle looks at Amber and sees the family resemblance. She looks like his brother—a brother he hasn't spoken to in a year.
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The lyrics suggest that this "pagan" niece is actually the catalyst for a Christian reconciliation. The uncle decides to call his brother.
Then comes the funniest part. Timmy, clearly impressed by his cool cousins, tugs his dad's sleeve and asks, "Can I be a Pagan?"
The dad's response? "We'll discuss it when they leave."
It’s perfect. It doesn't promise a conversion, but it shows a dad who isn't slamming a door. He's just trying to get through dinner.
The Cultural Impact of Mortal City
When Mortal City dropped in the mid-90s, the "culture wars" were already brewing, but they felt different. This song became a staple on folk radio and eventually a holiday classic for people who felt left out of the standard "Silent Night" narrative.
Dar Williams has often talked about how she wrote this to provide a "humorous respite" from the stress of family gatherings. She’s an expert at capturing the "small-town politics" of a dinner table.
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Some fans have looked deeply into the psychology of the song. There’s a story about a high school boy who came backstage after a show and cried because the song acknowledged a lesbian couple in such a normal, domestic setting. In 1996, that was a radical act of songwriting.
Magic is in the Learning
One of the best lines in the whole piece is: "And where does magic come from? I think magic’s in the learning."
That’s basically the Dar Williams manifesto.
The "burning" in the song changes meaning. At first, it's the fear of "burning in hell" or the historical burning of witches. By the end, the only things burning are the pumpkin pies. It’s a clever, linguistic pivot that replaces ancient trauma with a slightly charred dessert.
Real-World Takeaways from the Song
You don't have to be a folk music nerd to get something out of this. The song offers a blueprint for how to handle that one relative who makes everything weird at Thanksgiving or Christmas.
- Focus on the "Miss You": When beliefs clash, lead with the relationship. Amber didn't come to argue; she came because she missed her family.
- Answer the "Timmy" Questions: Kids are curious. Instead of getting defensive, Jane used Timmy's "witch" question as a way to explain her connection to nature.
- Accept the Pluralism: You don't have to agree on the "God" part to agree on the "Peace on Earth" part.
- The Power of Showing Up: The uncle's heart only softened because Amber actually walked through the door.
Next Steps for the Curious Listener
If you haven't heard the studio version, go find the 1996 recording. The way the mandolin and guitar interweave gives it a bright, wintery feel that the lyrics deserve. You should also check out Dar's book What I Found in a Thousand Towns if you want to understand how she views community and "positive urbanism."
If you’re looking for more songs with this vibe, look into the rest of the Mortal City album. It’s full of these tiny, hyper-specific character studies that somehow feel universal. You’ll find that "The Christians and the Pagans" isn't an outlier; it’s just the most famous example of Dar’s ability to find the grace in the middle of a mess.
To truly appreciate the song, try reading the lyrics aloud without the music once. You'll notice the rhythmic shifts and the way she uses "Red Dye No. 3" to ground a spiritual conversation in the mundane reality of a grocery store aisle. It’s a masterclass in folk songwriting.