A Christmas Tale: The Legend of the Rooster’s Mass

A Portuguese tradition and a popular folktale about friendship

The midnight mass is commonly referred to as the ‘Rooster’s Mass’ here in northern Portugal.

Legend has it that on this night, roosters would crow at midnight, which is why we call it that.

Raised in the embrace of a Christian family, I was taught from a young age to cherish the true meaning behind this religious ceremony.

Here in the Portuguese countryside, a tradition akin to roosters heralding the approaching sunrise unfolds. People are summoned to midnight mass by the ringing of bells at midnight.

Today, in my region, the tolling of bells in the early hours of Christmas morning is known as “annunciation,” derived from the Latin word “annuntiatio,” meaning “to announce.”

There are many tidbits about this tradition. For instance, I have often heard the elders in my village share a humorous saying: that this celebration takes so long that when it finally ends, the rooster has already begun crowing for dawn.

So, every year, in the late hours of Christmas Eve, and after the traditional Consoada dinner, families would come together to attend mass and partake in celebrating the miraculous birth of Jesus Christ.

To my childish eyes, the celebration itself was a festival of light.

Our church would be lit up by hundreds of candles. People would sing and pray, and at the end, everybody would walk up to the altar and kiss a porcelain baby Jesus.

What would happen next is something that has stayed imprinted in my mind in the most vivid colors. I still recall that after the mass, we would come outside to the churchyard and watch a unique fireworks show known as ‘Vaca de Fogo’ (Cow of Fire).

Vaca de Fogo was once one of the most popular traditions here in the Entre-o-Douro-e-Minho region. Its roots are deeply grounded in pagan festivals linked to the winter solstice.

According to tradition, a man carrying on his back a pyrotechnic frame in the shape of a cow would run around the church after the Rooster’s Mass, scaring away the crowd.

This ancestral ritual of fire was linked to the solstice as a time of passage. Through the purifying action of fire, humanity is redeemed, our savior is reborn, and order is restored.

Christianity replaced the old gods’ mythology with a new liturgy. The birth of Christ marked the fulcrum of the neverending cycle of perpetual rebirth.

After the fireworks, we would carry lit candles as we made our way home. This tradition was born out of necessity in a time before street lamps were everywhere, and it helped folks find their way back home.

Unfortunately, my grandfather, who lived to be 102, is no longer among us. However, I remember sitting on his lap and hearing him tell the story of the Rooster Mass.

This is how I recall it.

There was once a young shepherd who spent all of Christmas Eve tending to his flock.

Despite his watch, one of his lambs went missing.

He searched for it for so long that by the time he found the little lamb, it was too late—he had missed the bell toll, summoning people to Midnight Mass.

Unable to find his way without them, the young shepherd was left exposed and vulnerable in the darkness, facing the teeth of howling wolves and the cold bite of the blizzard.

Time went by, and danger lurked in the shadows. The young shepherd found himself lost and confused in the wilderness, with no clue as to his whereabouts.

Wolf howls were drawing near when he noticed a line of luminous glow in the night.

Astonishingly, it was the entire village that had halted communion and brought their candles from the church to search for him.

Relief filled their hearts when he was found unharmed. Consequently, they returned to mass, and from then on, it became a tradition for people to carry lit candles when walking to the Roosters Mass on Christmas Eve so no one else would be lost.

P.S.

May the light of Christmas always guide you and help you find comfort and shelter next to those who long for you.

Where there is light, there is hope. Where there is friendship, you’re never alone.

Christmas is also a time to celebrate the special people in our lives. That’s why I wanted to share this story with you as a token of the friendship that binds us in this writing community.

Merry Christmas to y’all, my dear friends in digital ink!

I leave you with “Carol of the Bells.”