The Canadian Red Ensign

The Canadian Red Ensign
Showing posts with label Aurelian. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aurelian. Show all posts

Friday, December 10, 2021

Christmas and the Birth of Christ

 BLESSED Lord, who hast caused all holy Scriptures to be written for our learning: Grant that we may in such wise hear them, read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest them, that by patience and comfort of thy holy Word, we may embrace and ever hold fast the blessed hope of everlasting life, which thou hast given us in our Saviour Jesus Christ.  Amen. – Collect for the Second Sunday in Advent

 

ALMIGHTY God, give us grace that we may cast away the works of darkness, and put upon us the armour of light, now in the time of this mortal life, in which thy Son Jesus Christ came to visit us in great humility; that in the last day, when he shall come again in his glorious Majesty, to judge both the quick and the dead, we may rise to the life immortal; through him who liveth and reigneth with thee and the Holy Ghost, now and ever.  Amen. – Collect for the First Sunday in Advent

 

We are once again at that time of the year when the Christmas haters come crawling out of the woodworks.   I don’t mean the sort of people who object to Christmas as being Christian and wish to replace it with a generic “season” or “holiday”.   Nor am I referring to those who have problems with the commercialized version that has for many replaced the solemn and joyous Feast of the Nativity of Our Lord.   I am talking instead about the sort of people that we might call hyper-Protestants.   Ordinary Protestants “protest” the errors that are particular to the Patriarch of Rome and the Churches in his Communion.   Hyper-Protestants oppose what is Catholic – belonging to the entire pre-Reformation Christian tradition as a whole.   Hyper-Protestantism is inescapably sectarian and in its extreme form rejects even the Trinitarian faith of the ancient Creeds.    Hyper-Protestantism regards Catholicism as a synthesis between Christianity and paganism, in which the Christianity is the outward veneer and the paganism is the dominant, inner, reality.   It usually dates the origin of this synthesis to the fourth century, the legalization of Christianity, the reign of Constantine the Great, and Christianity’s becoming the official religion of the Roman Empire.   Hyper-Protestants maintain that Christmas and Easter are pagan festivals that were given a superficial Christian makeover as part of this process.

 

Some hyper-Protestant ideas have become so widespread that they are now commonly accepted assumptions even among regular Protestants and non-Protestant Christians.   The pagan origin of Christmas is one such idea.   Indeed, until quite recently my answer to this argument would not have been to challenge the assumption but the spin placed on it.   I would have said something along the lines of “Okay, so the ancient pagans had a holiday around the winter solstice, and the Church took the day over and made it Christmas, big deal, it is far better that we honour Christ than some pagan idol in December, and anyway, the Jews did exactly the same thing, they set their ‘festival of lights’ to occur around the winter solstice, in commemoration of an event that isn’t even recorded in books they regard as canonical, yet Jesus is described as participating in that celebration in the tenth chapter of the Gospel according to St. John and I don’t see you complaining about that!”    While I would still regard that reasoning as valid, I would no longer concede to the hyper-Protestants the idea that Christianity borrowed the holiday from paganism.

 

What initially led me to reconsider this concession was the article “Calculating Christmas” by William J. Tighe, Associate Professor of History at Muhlenberg College in Allentown, Pennsylvania, which appeared in the December 2003 issue of Touchstone Magazine.    In this article, Tighe argued that the pagan festival of Dies Natalis Sol Invictus (“the day of the Birth of the Unconquered Sun”) was actually more recent than Christmas.   It was the emperor Aurelian who established the cult of Sol Invictus in 274 AD, towards the end of his brief reign.   This, Tighe argued, “was almost certainly an attempt to create a pagan alternative to a date that was already of some significance to Roman Christians”.   He explains that long before this Christians had attempted to determine the calendar date of Christ’s death, which was important to the debate over when to celebrate Pascha/Easter, and that Christians in the Greek-speaking East had determined in to be the sixth of April, while Latin-speaking Christians in the West had calculated it to be the twenty-fifth of March.   Both were wrong in these calculations, Tighe argued, but influenced by the then extent Jewish idea of “integral age”, that a prophet of Israel would live a whole life and die either on the day he was conceived or born, concluded that these were also the dates of either Christ’s birth or conception, eventually settling upon the latter and declaring the twenty-fifth of March to be the Feast of the Annunciation, which, of course, is exactly nine months prior to the twenty-fifth of December.

 

Was Tighe correct?

 

He was certainly right that Christians had concluded that Christ was born on the twenty-fifth of December long before Aurelian established the cult of Sol Invictus on that day.   St. Hippolytus of Rome had written in his Commentary on Daniel (IV.23) that the birth of Christ in Bethlehem had taken place eight days prior to the Kalends of January, on a Wednesday, in the forty-second year of Augustus (he was obviously counting from the rise to power of the Second Triumvirate, not from either Octavian’s birth or his becoming emperor) and five thousand, five hundredth after Adam.   St. Hippolytus died in 235 AD, almost forty years prior to the establishment of the cult of Sol Invictus, and  his Commentary on Daniel was written about thirty years before that.   The Kalends of January is, of course, the first of January, New Year’s Day, and eight days prior to that is the twenty-fifth of December.   In his very next sentence he went on to say that the Lord died in his thirty-third year, eight days before the Kalends of April, which is, of course, the twenty-fifth of March.    Tertullian also testified to the twenty-fifth of March as the date of the Passion in a work, Adversus Judaeos, (VIII.17) that came out around the same time as St. Hippolytus’ Commentary, possibly a few years earlier.    That the date of Christ’s birth was calculated from the date of the Annunciation, considered to be identical to the date of the Passion, is indirectly testified to by another work of St. Hippolytus, his Chronicon, written shortly before his death, which makes the twenty-fifth of March not only the date of the events mentioned, but of the Creation of the world.   He was not the only one to make these connections.   Sextus Julius Africanus in his Chronographiai, also maintained that the twenty-fifth of March was the date of Creation and that the Incarnation took place five thousand, five hundred years to the day later.   This five-volume work, no longer extent except in fragments and insomuch as it is quoted at length by later writers such as Eusebius of Caeserea, was completed in 221 AD.   While there were some who followed Julius Africanus and St. Hippolytus in seeing the twenty-fifth of March as the date of Creation who did not join them in identifying it as the anniversary of the Incarnation and Passion – the author who wrote De Pascha Computus (243 AD), falsely attributed to St. Cyprian of Carthage is one example – even this testimony supports the point that great significance was attached to the twenty-fifth of March first, and that the date of Christmas was calculated from this rather than the other way around.  

 

The weakest part of Tighe’s argument is the explanation of the dates by means of the Jewish tradition of integral age.   The Patristic writers referred to do not use this explanation in their own writings and, indeed, it would have been strange if they had for two reasons.   The first is that they were writing in a period in which the Jewish and Christian traditions were distancing themselves from each other – note the title of the Tertullian work mentioned above.   The second is that the Jewish tradition in question is about men who died on their birthdays.   Moses is the primary example of this, and the only one of whom Old Testament support for the idea can be found (Deuteronomy 31:2 can be interpreted as saying that it was Moses’ one hundred and twentieth birthday when he gave his final address to Israel).   The Babylonian Talmud also says of the patriarchs in the Rosh Hashanah tractate that they died in the same month that they were born, which might suggest that they died on their birthdays.   That Moses died on his birthday is asserted several times in the Babylonian Talmud.   In one place (Kiddusin 38a) this is discussed at length and explained it as a fulfilment of Exodus 23:26’s “the number of thy days I will fulfill”.   The Patristic writers, however, assigned Jesus’ day of conception rather than His day of birth to the same day He died.    This does not necessarily mean that the integral age tradition did not influence their calculations.   It is possible that they chose date of conception rather than date of birth to distinguish a Christian version of the concept from the Jewish one.   A theological case for doing this can even be made.   The moment Jesus was conceived in the womb of the Virgin Mary by the power of the Holy Spirit was the moment God became Man.    This was not true of the conception of Moses or of anyone else other than Jesus.   Therefore in His case the fullness of the number of His days was counted from the moment of Incarnation rather than the moment of birth.   If this sort of thinking figured into the calculations of the Patristic writers, however, they neglected to inform their readers of it.

 

The important point, of course, is not whether the Church Fathers were influenced by this Jewish tradition in their calculations of the date of the birth of Christ, but that they calculated that date as having been the twenty-fifth of December for reasons that have nothing to do with paganism, idolatry, or the festivals associated with the same.   While this does not necessarily mean that their calculations were correct, a strong case can be made from the New Testament that both the Western calculation of the twenty-fifth of December and the Eastern calculation of the sixth of January, fall within the span of time in which the birth of Christ had to have occurred.

 

Consider the part of the calculation that dates the birth of Christ to exactly nine months after the Annunciation.   Some might quibble over whether the nine months had to be exact to the day or not, but that the birth took place nine months after the Annunciation, whether approximately or to the exact day, we can take from the Gospel according to St. Luke, the sixth chapter of the second verse which states “And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered”.  

 

So does St. Luke tell us anything about when the Annunciation took place?

 

Yes, he does.   The first chapter of his Gospel begins the account of the Annunciation by saying “And in the sixth month the angel Gabriel was sent from God unto a city of Galilee, named Nazareth, To a virgin espoused to a man whose name was Joseph, of the House of David; and the virgin’s name was Mary.” (Lk. 1:26-27)

 

What is meant by “in the sixth month”?

 

The verses immediately preceding the account state that St. Elizabeth, the wife of St. Zechariah, “conceived, and hid herself five months, saying, Thus hath the Lord dealt with me in the days wherein he looked on me, to take away my reproach among men.”   (vv.24-25)

 

So the Annunciation took place in the sixth month of St. Elizabeth’s pregnancy.   Well, does St. Luke tell us when St. Elizabeth conceived John the Baptist?

 

Again, the answer is yes.   The twenty-third verse and the first part of the twenty-fourth read: “And it came to pass, that, as soon as the days of his ministration were accomplished, he departed to his own house.   And after those days his wife Elisabeth conceived” which brings us back to the start of the previous quotation.   So the conception of John the Baptist took place immediately after the days of St. Zechariah’s ministration in which the same angel Gabriel had been sent to him to tell him of the upcoming birth of John the Baptist.

 

So do we know when the time in which St. Zechariah was ministering in the Temple actually was?

 

To answer this, I will first point out that there is a very early tradition in the Church that would pinpoint the exact day on which Gabriel came to St. Zechariah.   This tradition states that St. Zechariah was acting in the capacity of High Priest that year and that this was Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.   A very early attestation to this is found in the pseudepigraphal Protoevangelium of James which dates to the second century and it seems to have been commonly held by many, probably most of the Church Fathers.   While the Gospel of St. Luke does not state this explicitly, I will show a bit later that it does not actually contradict it either, and drops a few hints in support of the idea.   

 

Before doing so, however, I will point out the interesting fact that even if St. Zechariah was just an ordinary priest the evidence would strongly suggest that the day in which Gabriel appeared to him was the Day of Atonement, or at least in the week of the Day of Atonement. 

 

It is stated in the fifth verse that he belonged to the course of Abijah.    In I Chronicles 24, the priests were divided into twenty-four courses or divisions.   All priests were required to do priestly service on three weeks of the year – the weeks in which Passover, Pentecost, and Tabernacles occurred.   For the rest of the year, the priestly courses would be assigned weeks of service according to their lot in a rota, which, after it was completed, would start again in the same order, so that each course ended up with two weeks assigned especially to it each year, other than the ones common to all priests.     I Chronicles 24:10 tells us that Abijah was assigned the eighth lot.    It is doubtful that the priests of any other course envied them the spot.  This meant that their first week fell after the week of Pentecost in the Jewish month of Sivan, and their second week fell immediately before the week of Tabernacles in the Jewish month of Tishri.   Twice a year, in other words, they had two weeks of service in a row.      Yom Kippur falls on the tenth day of Tishri – five days before the first day of Sukkot (Tabernacles) and thus in the second week assigned to Abijah.  

 

If the second week assigned to Abijah is the time that St. Luke had in mind this could explain the language that hints at the Day of Atonement even without St. Zechariah being the High Priest, and even how the mistake of the author of the Protoevangelium of James, if it is indeed an error, came about.    Further evidence identifying the day Gabriel spoke to St. Zechariah as the Day of Atonement, or at the very least the week as the week of the Day of Atonement, can be found in the thirty-ninth verse of the second chapter of St. Luke’s Gospel.  

 

This verse follows immediately after the account of the Presentation of Jesus in the Temple, when the period of Purification for His mother was completed, forty days after His birth.   The verse says “And when they had performed all things according to the law of the Lord, they returned into Galilee, to their own city of Nazareth”.   This means that either a) the Holy Family moved to Bethlehem at some point after this but before they received the Visit from the Magi, then moved back to Nazareth after the Flight into Egypt, b) the Magi went to Nazareth rather than Bethlehem (which would torture the meaning of the second chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel and make the Flight into Egypt unnecessary as Herod targeted Bethlehem and the surrounding coasts in the Slaughter of the Innocents), or c) the Visit of the Magi, the Flight to Egypt and the Holy Family’s return had all taken place between the Circumcision of Christ, eight days after His birth, and His Presentation in the Temple, forty days later.

 

Yes, option c) is a real possibility.  You can walk to Egypt from Bethlehem in a little under a week, and with the gifts the Magi had brought – gold, frankincense and myrrh - it was hardly necessary that the Holy Family walk.   Option c) is the option that best fits the texts of both St. Luke and St. Matthew.   That places the death of Herod the Great in the forty days between Jesus’ birth and His Presentation in the Temple.   This rules out the first week assigned to the course of Abijah, the week after Pentecost in Sivan, as the week of service mentioned by St. Luke.   If St. Zechariah had been ministering in Sivan this would place the birth of Jesus around the time of Tabernacles (the way the conception of John the Baptist, his birth, the conception of Jesus, and His birth are spaced, Tabernacles and Passover, and the equinoxes approximate to them, appear in connection to these events, albeit different ones, regardless of which week of Abijah it was).   There are those who prefer this version on the grounds of the fourteenth verse of St. John’s Gospel – “and the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us” because this verse uses the word ἐσκήνωσεν for “dwelt”.   This verb is derived from the word from which our English word “scene” is derived, the word used in the LXX for the Tabernacle.   Liddell and Scott give the primary definition of the verb as to “pitch tents, encamp” with the derived meanings of “live or dwell in a tent” and more generally “settle, take up one’s abode”.  This is one word, however, in a chapter which describes Jesus the following way:

 

In him was life; and the life was the light of men.  And the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not.   There was a man sent from God, whose name was John.  The same came for a witness, to bear witness of the Light, that all men through him might believe.   He was not that Light, but was sent to bear witness of that Light.  That was the true Light, which lighteth every man that cometh into the world. (vv. 4-9)

 

If the use of ἐσκήνωσεν in John 1:14, which those who support the theory ludicrously suggest ought to be rendered “tabernacled” in English, is grounds for thinking the Lord was born at Sukkot, the dominant theme of light earlier in the passage in which this verse is found would be a counterargument that He was born in Hanukkah.   Note that the Gospel of John is the only book in the New Testament – or, for that matter, the undisputed books of the Christian sacred canon - to mention Hanukkah, the Jewish festival of lights. 

 

At any rate, my point is that Flavius Josephus tells us that Herod the Great died in the early part of the year before Passover, following a lunar eclipse.   If he died in the first forty days of Jesus’ life, as the best of the options for fitting the events recorded in the second chapter of St. Matthew’s Gospel into the account in St. Luke’s indicates, then it had to be John the Baptist who was conceived around the time of Tabernacles and not Jesus Who was born around then, which confirms what the Church has pretty much universally thought since the earliest centuries of Christianity.   Josephus also tells us that after mourning his father for seven days, Herod’s son Herod Archelaus, whom Herod had named his successor in his will shortly before his death,  arrayed in white, ascended a golden throne in Jerusalem and declared this his reign would be one of leniency and benevolence. (Antiquities of the Jews, XVII.8.iv)  The crowd then began to make demand after demand, and eventually degenerated into a riotous mob.   Archelaus then sent his troops in to crush the rebellion, and, after about three thousand had been killed, ordered the cancellation of Passover.   (Antiquities of the Jews, XVII.9.i-iii)  The Gospel according to St. Matthew tells us that after Joseph had received the message from the angel of the Lord in a dream telling him it was safe to return from Egypt he did so but hearing that Archelaus had succeeded his father, he took Mary and Jesus to Nazareth in Galilee (2:19-23).   If Joseph brought Mary and Jesus to the Temple to fulfil the requirements of the Law immediately upon returning from Egypt, then, hearing of Achelaus’ succession took them back to Nazareth before the slaughter of the three thousand and the cancellation of Passover, this would accommodate the narratives of both Evangelists.

 

Therefore, the narratives of Christ’s birth and infancy in both SS Luke and Matthew, taken together, make a powerful case that St. Zechariah had to have been ministering in the Temple, on or about the Day of Atonement, when Gabriel appeared to him.   This is true regardless of whether he was an ordinary priest, doing the ordinary priestly duties of his course for that week, or whether he was the High Priest on the Day of Atonement.

 

The fact that the first chapter of St. Luke’s Gospel does not state the latter explicitly does not rule it out either.   St. Luke does not assert anything about St. Zechariah in this chapter that could not be taken as the account of an ordinary priest, serving at the altar of incense at one of the ordinary sacrifices that took place twice a day, during his course’s week of duty.   Nor does he assert anything that would rule out the interpretation that he was serving as High Priest on the Day of Atonement.    Interestingly enough, both Josephus (Antiquities of the Jews, XVII.17.iv) and the Babylonian Talmud in numerous places, tell us that on one occasion around this time the first Matthias ben Theophilos to serve as High Priest (the second served just before the destruction of the Temple and was possibly the Theophilos to whom St. Luke was writing) became ritually unclean the day before Yom Kippur and so a substitute, Joseph ben Elem, was chosen to fulfil his duties in his place, and then excused from all subsequent priestly duty, even the common ones.   It is not entirely out of the range of possibility that this Joseph ben Elem was the same person as St. Zechariah.   St. Luke does not mention St. Zechariah’s father’s name, there were plenty of individuals who went by more than one name, and the only other extent information about this Joseph ben Elem was that he was related to Matthias ben Theophilos and lived in Sepphoris.   The latter would be an argument against the identification of the two – Sepphoris is in lower Galilee, about 85 miles away from Hebron, where SS Zechariah and Elizabeth lived.   This detail is not found in the oldest account of the incident, however, that of Josephus.  A bigger obstacle to the identification is the fact that Josephus indicates that the incident occurred on the Day of Atonement immediately prior to Herod’s death, which is a year too late.   However, the fact that something happened once suggests that it could have happened more than once, and, given how easy it was to become ritually unclean – in Matthias ben Theophilos’ case it was by dreaming about his wife – it is likely that this sort of thing happened more than once.   The year prior to the incident recorded by Josephus, Simon ben Boethus, one of Herod the Great’s fathers-in-law, was High Priest.   If something similar happened to him, and St. Zechariah was chosen to fulfil his duties out of the common priests whose course was on duty that week, the Babylonian Talmud (Yoma 12b) indicates that the same thing would have happened to him, he would have been dismissed from all priestly duty, high and common, immediately after Simon was ritually cleansed.   If this is what happened, this would bring the day of John the Baptist’s conception even closer to the Day of Atonement.  

 

If this is what happened, the absence of any explicit mention of it in St. Luke’s Gospel is harder to explain than the same absence in Josephus and the Babylonian Talmud.   It is only to be expected that the rabbis who compiled the latter and were blatantly hostile to Jesus Christ and all things Christian would not want to bring up such an incident involving the father of John the Baptist and cousin-in-law of Mary, and irregularities in the affairs of the Temple were not Josephus’ primary concern, although it is strange that he would only mention the second of two such incidents if they occurred two years in a row, unless, of course, his own sources of information were incomplete.  

 

Why, if it happened something like this, would St. Luke not mention it?

 

St. Luke does drop hints at the Day of Atonement in the chapter.   Again, his narrative is worded in such a way that everything mentioned could be accounted for by ordinary priestly service.   However, the way he describes how “the whole multitude of the people were praying without at the time of incense” (v. 9) could point to the Day of Atonement.  The word rendered “whole multitude” is πλῆθος from which we get our “plethora” which indicates a very large number and can mean “the entirety”.   It is modified by the phrase τοῦ λαοῦ (“of the people”) which could just mean the laypeople as opposed to the priests (our words “lay” and “laity” come from this word), but could also mean “the people” in the sense of the nation, and if this latter meaning is intended and the meaning of “the entirety” is intended by πλῆθος then the image of the Day of Atonement is what is conjured up here.   Further support for this interpretation is found in the references to how when St. Zechariah “saw him, he was troubled and fear fell upon him” (v. 9), the angel’s assuaging his fears (v. 10), and the reference to the people waiting for him to come out and marveling at how long he was taking (v. 21), all of which could suggest that the “time of incense” indicated was not just the ordinary burning of incense, but the censing of the Ark in the Holy of Holies.   Only the High Priest could enter there and only on this one day.   If, upon returning the censer to the altar of incense from the Holy of Holies (Lev. 16:12-13) he found someone standing by the altar when nobody else was supposed to be inside at all (Lev. 16:17), this would very much produce the described reaction, while the people would have been wondering if the delay meant he had been struck dead inside and whether they would have to pull him out by the cord attached for precisely that purposed.

 

While the question remains as to why St. Luke would have made allusion to it in this way without outright stating it, the answer might very well be that it was a style of narration that he picked up from the example of the Lord Jesus Christ.

 

Consider two parables that he records Jesus telling, one of which is entirely distinct to his Gospel, the other of which is similar to one that St. Matthew records Jesus’ having told on a different occasion.   The latter is the parable of the pounds in the nineteenth chapter (vv. 12-27).   It was told by Jesus following His encounter with the tax collector Zacchaeus at Jericho.   It is similar to the parable of the talents that He told as part of the Olivet Discourse (Matt. 25:14-30).    The amounts and kind of money is different.   There is one other big difference.   That is that in the parable of the pounds (minas), Jesus gives a lengthy explanation of the nobleman’s journey.   The details are taken from the life of Herod Archelaus.   In fact, they are the events from his life that immediately follow the ones related above.   After wreaking vengeance on the rebelling Jews in Jerusalem, Archelaus sailed to Rome to have Caesar confirm his succession to his father’s kingdom, but was followed by his own opponents, including his brother Herod Antipas who contested the will,  an entourage of pretended supporters led by his aunt Salome, the sister of Herod the Great, and one of the greatest female schemers of all time (1) who actually went to support Antipas and condemn Archelaus, and a later delegation of Jews from Jerusalem who pleaded with Caesar not to confirm the appointment because of the aforementioned atrocities.   This was to no avail – Augustus confirmed the succession and named Archelaus Ethnarch of Judea, Samaria and Idumea. Josephus tells the whole story in Antiquities of the Jews, XVII.9.iii-vii;11.i-v)   Jesus’ allusion to all of this might seem strange, considering that Archelaus was a despised figure, and the nobleman in the parable obviously represents Himself, but the parable was a prophecy of the judgement that would soon be coming upon those who rejected His rule (v. 27).

 

The other parable is the parable of Dives (Latin for “rich man”, not a proper name) and Lazarus found at the end of the sixteenth chapter (vv. 19-31).    The entire parable is an ironic counter-factual allusion to the events recorded by St. John in the eleventh chapter of his Gospel.   The rich man, while not named, is clearly identified as Caiaphas from the description of him as wearing the high priestly robes (v. 19) and his telling Abraham that he had a father and five brothers and home (vv. 27-28), which is a reference to Caiaphas’ father-in-law Annas, and Annas’ five sons each of whom served at one point or another as high priest.   One of those sons was Theophilos, the father of Matthias ben Theophilos II, both of whom are among the possible candidates for being the Theophilos to whom St. Luke was writing.  The entire point of the parable is found in its final verse in which Abraham tells Dives, the parabolic caricature of Caiaphas in response to his request that Lazarus be sent to his father and brothers “If they hear not Moses and the prophets, neither will they be persuaded though one rose from the dead”.   In the actual events, of course, Lazarus was raised from the dead, and it was in response to this and the publication of the fact, that Caiaphas launched the conspiracy to kill Christ (Jn. 11:47-53).   In the parable Jesus was also taking aim at the doctrines of the sect/party of the Sadducees to which Caiaphas and all of his aforementioned relatives – including the ones to whom St. Luke might have been writing – belonged.   The Sadducees did not believe in resurrection, even the resurrection at the end of time prophesied in the Old Testament.   This was because they did not have “Moses and the prophets”.   They recognized only Moses (the books of Moses, the Torah or Pentateuch) as sacred Scripture.

 

Since St. Luke records Jesus making such cryptic but extensive allusions to figures and events that His audience would have been familiar with in order to say something without saying it directly, a characteristic that appears to be distinctive of the parables which he alone of the Evangelists recorded it is not improbable that he would have attempted to follow His Lord’s example in his own writing style.   Later in St. Luke’s Gospel, his account of the Last Supper (22:14-20) mentions two cups of wine.   Jesus is described as blessing both of them, but drinking of neither Himself, with the explanation given with the first cup mentioned that He would not drink of the fruit of the vine with them again until the Kingdom of God.   This alludes to the four cups of a traditional Passover Seder.   The cup over which the Eucharist is instituted, the second mentioned in St. Luke’s text, is undoubtedly the third of these, the Cup of Redemption.   This makes it likely that the first mentioned in the text was the second up, the Cup of Deliverance, with the implication that Jesus had already drunk with His disciples from the Cup of Sanctification.  (2) It can also be inferred from this that the fourth Cup – the Cup of Praise – was omitted altogether that night or rather deferred until after the Resurrection when the Eucharist both took its place and fulfilled the promise that He would eat and drink with them again in the kingdom (the Sacrifices of the Old Covenant suggest the idea of God sharing a meal with His people – this becomes explicit in the Sacrament that takes their place in the New Covenant).   If this is not quite the same thing, consider the numerous allusions to the best known stories of classical Greco-Roman literature that St. Luke employs in narrating the Acts of the Apostles, in the sequel to his Gospel.   (3)  That this is so characteristic of his style helps explain why the language suggestive of the Day of Atonement in his account of St. Zechariah’s service in the Temple, written in such a way that he could merely be describing an ordinary priest doing common service, might have been hinting to Theophilos that St. Zechariah was serving as High Priest that day, even if only for that day for reasons similar to that for which Joseph ben Elum was known to have so served.

 

Either way, however, the evidence overwhelmingly suggests that it was at least the week of Yom Kippur in which this encounter took place.  The Day of Atonement falls from late September to early October, near the fall equinox.   John the Baptist was conceived shortly thereafter.   This places the Annunciation in March-April, near both the spring equinox and the time of Passover.   It places the birth of Jesus in December-January.   When the early Christians attempted to narrow it further, some to the sixth of January, others to the twenty-fifth of December which latter won out,  (4) they might have been wrong in their calculations, but they would not have been far off either way.

 

So when a hyper-Protestant comes up to you and says in true Pharisaic spirit “I thank God, that I am not like you pagans, celebrating an idolatrous sun holiday and thinking you are keeping the birthday of Jesus” pay him no heed.

 

Have a very Merry Christmas.

 

(1)   This Salome should not be confused with the other Herodean Salomes.   Herod the Great had a daughter by that name as well.   The best known Herodean Salome was the daughter of Herod Philip and Herodias who, after her mother re-married Herod Antipas (Herod Philip’s brother), danced for her step-father and asked for the head of John the Baptist.   None of the Gospels name her, but we know her name from Josephus.   Although it is not uncommon for family dynasty’s to reuse names the Herodeans made things especially confusing.   Salome – the one mentioned in the text of the essay, the notorious intriguer who was the sister of Herod the Great had a daughter named Berenice, who is frequently confused with the Berenice who was the daughter of Herod Agrippa I, who appears with her brother Herod Agrippa II in the twenty-fifth and twenty-sixth chapters of the Book of Acts in which they hear St. Paul plead his case at Caesarea, and whose doomed love affair with Titus of Rome is the subject of countless plays, novels, and operas.


(2)   Later that evening, in His prayer at the Garden of Gethsemane, Jesus refers to the suffering of His Passion as a “cup”.   (Lk. 22:42)  As His disciples had just drunk of the literal cups at the Passover, He would drink from this cup alone.    Earlier He had referred to the same sufferings as both a “baptism” and a “cup” in His response to the sons of Zebedee’s request that they sit at His right and left hand in the kingdom (Mk. 10:35-40).   On another occasion (Lk. 12:50) He referred to those sufferings as just a “baptism”.   It is through His partaking of this “baptism” and “cup” that He obtained for us the grace of the New Covenant of which baptism and the Lord’s Supper are the outward marks.


(3)   I will give only a few examples.   St. Luke alludes to Homer’s Iliad in his narration of the lives of both SS Peter and Paul.   St. Peter’s escape from prison in the twelfth chapter of Acts calls to mind King Priam’s escape from the Greek camp after pleading with Achilles for the body of Hector in the twenty-fourth book of the Iliad.    St. Paul’s farewell address to the elders of the Church of Ephesus in the twentieth chapter of Acts calls to mind Hector’s words to Andromache in the sixth book of the same.  Note that the parallels drawn are between the Apostles and the Trojans.   Priam was king of Troy and Hector, his son, was its war leader.   The Trojans were believed to be the ancestors of the Romans – less than a century before St. Luke wrote, Virgil told the story of how Aeneas, a survivor of Troy, travelled to Latium in Italy, having a disastrous relationship with Dido of Carthage along the way foreshadowing the Punic wars, and in Italy fathered the line from which Romulus would come.    Of all the heroes depicted in Homer’s Iliad, the most well-known and loved epic poem of the ancient world, Priam and Hector would have been the ones the Romans would have admired the most.   That St. Luke uses language evocative of them to tell the stories of SS Peter and Paul makes sense when we consider that the latter’s arrival in Rome brings the book of Acts to its conclusion and that the former we know from the universal testimony of the ancient Church to have arrived there at about the same time and to have ministered with St. Paul there before both were martyred there.  Another example is the allusion to the story of Philemon and Baucis in the eighth book of Ovid’s Metamorphoses in the fourteenth chapter of Acts.   In this example, the people of Lystra mistake SS Barnabas and Paul as Jupiter and Mercury in reference to Ovid’s story in which the said Olympians had visited the title characters, an elderly couple in Phrygia under the guise of poor human travelers.   In Ovid’s story the couple are the only ones who offer the deities hospitality and are rewarded while their countrymen are punished.  In Acts, it is rather the opposite of this that occurs – the Apostles heal a crippled man and the entire community tries to worship them as gods.   Many other examples of this sort of thing could be given.  Acts abounds in them.


(4)  Some Christians continue to celebrate Christmas on the sixth/seventh of January.   Of these, the Armenian Church celebrate it on the sixth of January qua the sixth of January because they accept the rival set of calculations from the early Church.   Others celebrate Christmas around then as the twenty-fifth of December on the Julian Calendar which was for a long time twelve days off of the Gregorian Calendar and is currently thirteen days off, moving towards a fourteen day difference in about seventy years.   That the change in calendars would put the twenty-fifth of December of the old calendar onto the rival date for Christmas on the new calendar can only be described in Nabokov’s words as “one of those dazzling coincidences that logicians loathe and poets love”.   There are also some who celebrate Christmas on the Julian sixth of January which is currently the nineteenth of January.   The Western tradition, in which the sixth of January is the Feast of Epiphany and the twelve days prior to it from the twenty-fifth of December are the Twelve Days of Christmas accommodates both of the early Church dates.

   

 

Tuesday, January 12, 2021

Christ and Paganism

 

Before I came to faith in Jesus Christ when I was fifteen I became aware of a sect that maintained that the only true and faithful Christians left on the planet were those who belonged to their group.   It was difficult not to be aware of them.   They would periodically come knocking on everyone's door, armed with literature "proving" their distinctive doctrines, hoping to find someone who did not spot them coming and pull the drapes down before they arrived, and try to convert him.   I am referring, of course, to the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society, better known as the Jehovah's Witnesses.  These disciples of Charles Taze Russell and Judge Rutherford, have revived the ancient heresy of Arianism (the idea that Jesus is not the Eternally-Begotten Son of God, co-equal and co-eternal with His Father and the Holy Ghost, as orthodox Christians believe, but a lesser divinity, the first created being) and blended it with a strong millenarianism (they have set dates for the Second Coming numerous times in the past, all of which have come and gone).   They are frequently designated a "cult" by evangelical watchdog groups who use this term to refer any Protestant separatist sect that deviates from Creedal orthodoxy in some way with regards to the Trinity or the Person of Christ.   One of the ways in which they consider themselves to be superior to orthodox Christians is that they don't celebrate Christmas - or Easter, any other holiday, or even their own birthdays.

 

Shortly after coming to faith I received literature from another such sect, the Worldwide Church of God, founded by radio preacher Herbert W. Armstrong.   They too rejected the Trinity and orthodox Christology, although at a later point they apparently recanted all of this, embraced sounder doctrine, renamed themselves, and joined the National Association of Evangelicals.   This had not yet happened at the time I am alluding to.   I first recognized that there was something off about their doctrine by the fact that they, like the Jehovah's Witnesses, had a major problem with Christmas.

 

I have, ever since, been strongly inclined to doubt the orthodoxy of anyone who professes a fervent Christianity but who attacks Christmas.   I am aware, of course, that there have been some to whom no specific error with regards to the Trinity or Christ can be attributed who rejected Christmas.  Oliver Cromwell is the most obvious historical example, but as Cromwell was a self-righteous Pharisee, a boorish Philistine, and a vile, treacherous, regicide who ruled as a tyrant over the people he had deprived of their lawful king through murder, this hardly raises my esteem of Christmas rejecters.

 

I have a colleague who is like this.   Pretty much every time Christmas and Easter roll around, he insists upon pestering me with annoying questions about why we are celebrating "manmade" holidays like Christmas and Easter rather than the ones God ordained in the Law.   No matter how many times I have explained to him that God ordained the holidays in the Pentateuch for a specific nation - Israel - and the New Testament is absolutely clear on the fact that the Church is not bound to keep the Old Testament feasts, that people are not required to become Jews in order to become Christians, and that the Church is free to set its own holy days (the practice of having a special assembly of the Church on the first day of the week, Sunday, in commemoration of the Resurrection, rather than the seventh, Saturday, the Sabbath of the Old Testament, is already in evidence in the book of Acts), it never seems to penetrate and he persists in thinking that he is like Jesus admonishing the scribes and Pharisees for setting God's commandments aside for manmade traditions.

 

The most recent such episode involved him trying to get me to acknowledge that Christmas was a "pagan" holiday.   While my response was to explain to him that the Church had already begun celebrating Christmas on December 25th before Aurelian proclaimed the Feast of Sol Invictus on the same date in the third century, and to get irate at being forced to have this same conversation over again, it occurred to me later, after I had cooled down, to contemplate what he and those like him think the word "pagan" means.   

 

Judging from the way such people use the word it would seem that they think "pagan" describes everything pertaining to the religion and culture of Gentile nations prior to their evangelization, that this consisted 100% of "manmade tradition", and that anything brought into Christianity from this source is an impurity that should be expunged because the Jewish tradition was the only pre-Christian tradition to have anything in it that was of God.

 

The irony of this point of view is striking.   Consider the passage in which Jesus denounces using man-made traditions to set aside God's commandments.   You can find it in the fifteenth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel, the first twenty verses, and in the first twenty-three verses of the seventh chapter of St. Mark's Gospel.    Who did He address these words to?   Were they Gentiles?   Were they ethnic Jews who had abandoned Judaism to worship in the temples of the gods of Greece and Rome?

 

No, they were the Pharisees, a sect of Second Temple Judaism.   They were the sect, as a matter of fact, that was most rigid about keeping the Torah (the Law), insisting upon maintaining Temple-level purity in every aspect of ordinary life, which is where they were coming from in asking the question that promoted Jesus’ stinging rebuke.   More interestingly, they were the explicitly anti-Hellenistic sect.   Their origins go back to the immediate aftermath of the Maccabean Revolt against Antiochus Epiphanes, following his desecration of the Temple.   The flip-side to their insistence upon an ultra-rigid, formal, purity according to the Law was a demand for separation from all things Gentile and especially Greek.   They would have been the last Jews in the first century to have any appreciation for Philo of Alexandria.   In case the relevance of this has not jumped out at you, it was the sect of Jews who made it their crusade to keep Judaism unspotted from Greek influence, that were at the receiving end of the rebuke about substituting manmade tradition for God's commandments that is evoked every time someone takes issue with Christians celebrating the Birth and Resurrection of Jesus Christ in the absence of an explicit Scriptural command to do so.

 

It is interesting that the person who was most responsible for evangelizing the Gentiles in the New Testament period, St. Paul, was himself a former member of this sect and one who had been a particularly zealous Pharisee at that.  This same St. Paul is the one who brought the question of whether Gentiles needed to become Jews in order to convert to Christianity to the Apostolic Council in Jerusalem in the fifteenth chapter of Acts, and then became the foremost champion of the answer he received, which in short, was no.   It is a prominent theme in several of the epistles he would later wrote, and the main subject of one of them, the epistle to the Galatians.   In addressing the Stoics and Epicureans at the Areopagus, St. Paul took an apologetic and evangelistic approach that is the exact opposite of the “only Jews have ever had the truth, you goyim know nothing” approach that might be expected from someone with his Pharisaic background.   He borrowed their own shrine to the "Unknown God" to preach the True and Living God to them, even applying to Jehovah, lines the Greek poets had addressed to Zeus.

 

I shall have more to say about St. Paul in a moment.  First, I would like to briefly return to Oliver Cromwell, or rather than the Puritan movement of which he was a representative and leader.   These were the forerunners of all of these sects that object to traditional Christian feasts and festivals as “manmade” and “pagan” as well as of political liberalism (their party in Parliament developed into the Whigs) and leftism (the Jacobins, who perpetrated the French Revolution, and became the template for all subsequent leftwing revolutionary movements, including the Bolsheviks, themselves took their inspiration from the Puritan revolt against King Charles I in the English Civil War).   The most extreme – theologically – of them, also objected to the conventional names of the days of the week and of the months.   The grounds, of course, were that they take their names from pagan deities (Wednesday, for example, takes its name from Wotan or Odin).

 

If the Puritan reasoning were taken to its logical conclusion we would have to throw out the New Testament.   Repeatedly, the authors of the New Testament, writing in Greek, the lingua franca of the time, referred to the place the Old Testament calls Sheol as Hades.  It occurs mostly in the Synoptic Gospels and Revelation, although it also appears in the second chapter of Acts where it is used to render Sheol in quotations from the Psalms in St. Peter’s address on Pentecost.   It was the obvious word to use – Hades in Greek thought, like Sheol in Hebrew thought, was the underworld, the land of shadows, where the spirits of the departed went.   Where did it get its Greek name, however?

 

The answer is that the Greeks named this place after the god they assigned to rule it.   In Greek mythology, when the Olympians, the third generation of gods, overthrew the Titans, the second generation, the sons of Kronos who had been ruler of the Titans, divided the world between themselves, with Zeus taking the sky, Poseidon the oceans and Hades the underworld.

 

If it is wrong for Christians to call the fifth day of the week Thursday after Thor, then it must also have been wrong for the Apostolic writers of the New Testament to refer to Sheol by the name of the Greek god who got the short end of the stick.  Apparently the Apostles were not as fastidious about avoiding names with pagan associations as the Puritans would later be.   It follows from this that neither was the Holy Ghost Who inspired their writing.

 

Nor is this one isolated example.  A related one can be found in St. Peter’s second epistle, the second chapter, fourth verse, where he uses a verbal form of Tartarus to refer to the fallen angels being imprisoned.   Tartarus, in Greek thought, was originally the place where Zeus imprisoned the Titans, and later came to take on the idea of a general place of punishment for the wicked dead (Sisyphus and his stone, Tantalus with his ever-out-of-reach grapes, etc.)   St. Peter is obviously using it in a sense that corresponds with the original meaning of the term.   Although this is much rarer in the New Testament than Hades – St. Peter’s is the only use of the term, the abyss or bottomless pit that appears in St. John’s Revelation is a reference to the same concept or place – it is an example of a concept borrowed from Greek thought that does not really have a strong close equivalent in Hebrew thought, except perhaps Dudael, which was originally the place in the wilderness where the scapegoat was thought to end up, but in later Jewish thought a general prison for evil spirits, a usage not found in any of the books regarded as canonical by both Jews and Christians (it can be found in the Book of Enoch which, although quoted by St. Jude in the New Testament, is not considered canonical by the mainstream of either Judaism or Christianity, although the Ethiopian sects of both religions place a very high value on it).   The Greek name of this place, like Hades, comes from a god, one whom the poet Hesiod, Homer’s contemporary, assigned to the oldest generation of gods that preceded the Titans in his Theogyny.

 

Incidentally, or not, the word we generally use in English for both places or concepts is also the name of a pagan deity, Hel or Hela, the Norse goddess of death who ruled the underworld and was the daughter – not sister as in the Marvel Cinematic Universe – of the god of mischief, Loki, although it is debatable whether the Norse named the realm after the goddess or the other way around.

 

Again, it is quite evident that the authors of the New Testament did not share the Puritan – or Pharisaic as it would have been called in their day - notion that borrowing words and even ideas and concepts from the Greeks and Romans somehow compromised the purity of God’s revelation.  

 

Let us return now to St. Paul.   In the first three chapters of his epistle to the Romans, he makes clear the distinction between special and general revelation, both of which come from God.   He does not use these terms but the concepts are plainly there.   General revelation is how God reveals Himself to all people everywhere in His Creation.   This is what he is talking about when he writes in the first chapter:

 

Because that which may be known of God is manifest in them; For God hath shewed it unto them. For the invisible things of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead; so that they are without excuse.  (vv. 19-20)

 

Later, in the third chapter, he writes that the advantage of Jewishness was chiefly that “unto them were committed the oracles of God”.   This is special revelation, God speaking to people through His prophets with a specific message.

 

Note that the distinction is made in the context of an indictment against all people, Jews and Gentiles both, as sinners.   The Gentiles are rebuked in the remainder of the first chapter for turning away from the Creator to worship created images and for the moral decay that accompanies such idolatry, and the Jews are rebuked in the second chapter for the hypocrisy of glorying in having received God’s Law without obeying it, all of which comes to a head in the  general indictment “for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God” which is immediately followed by the Gospel proclamation that we are “justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus”.  

 

One of the implications of this, that the nations have received the general revelation of God in Creation and Israel His special oracles, but that both have fallen into sin and that Jesus Christ is the Saviour Who brings the freely offered redemption of God to both, is that Christ is the fulfilment of both special and general revelation.

 

C. S. Lewis had clearly thought through this implication.   In response to the argument, common among anthropologists of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, that the Gospel message of the death and Resurrection of Jesus Christ was merely another version of the dying and resurrected god – the corn king – that appears in many mythologies as a symbol of the death and decay of fall and winter being replaced by the renewing of life in spring, he argued that whereas in pagan mythologies the myth was a symbol of the reality that was the natural phenomenon, in Christianity the natural phenomenon was the symbol of the greater reality to be found in the death and resurrection of Christ, and that thus Jesus, by fulfilling the symbol meaning pointed to by the natural phenomenon to which the pagan myths pointed, was the ultimate fulfilment of the myth.   This and other related arguments can be found in the essays of his which were collected into God in the Dock.   It is a subject that was particularly meaningful to him in that it was J. R. R. Tolkien and Hugo Dyson’s challenge to him to consider the Gospel as a “true myth” that brought him to faith in Jesus Christ.   Among the most relevant essays are “Myth Became Fact” and “Miracles”.   In the latter, which argues that God is always at work in the world in natural processes in ways we have become so accustomed to that we fail to see God in them and that the miracles recorded in Scripture consist basically of God doing the same things but “at a different speed and on a smaller scale”, revealing the Agent Who is at work in the ordinary processes.    In this essay Lewis wrote:

 

God creates the vine and teaches it to draw up water by its roots and, with the aid of the sun, to turn water into a juice which will ferment and take on certain qualities. Thus every year, from Noah’s time till ours, God turns water into wine. That, men fail to see. Either like the Pagans they refer the process to some finite spirit, Bacchus or Dionysus: or else, like the moderns, they attribute real and ultimate causality to the chemical and other material phenomena which are all that our senses can discover in it. But when Christ at Cana makes water into wine, the mask is off. The miracle has only half its effect if it only convinces us that Christ is God: it will have its full effect if whenever we see a vineyard or drink a glass of wine we remember that here works He who sat at a wedding party in Cana. Every year God makes a little corn into much corn: the seed is sown and there is an increase, and men, according to the fashion of their age, say “It is Ceres, it is Adonis, it is the Corn-King,” or else “It is the laws of Nature.” The close-up, the translation, of this annual wonder is the feeding of the five thousand. Bread is not made there of nothing. Bread is not made of stones, as the Devil once suggested to Our Lord in vain. A little bread is made into much bread…When He fed the thousands He multiplied fish as well as bread. Look in every bay and almost every river. This swarming, pulsating fecundity shows He is still at work. The ancients had a god called Genius – the god of animal and human fertility, the presiding spirit of gynecology, embryology, or the marriage bed – the “genial bed” as they called it after its god Genius. As the miracles of wine and bread and healing showed who Bacchus really was, who Ceres, who Apollo, and that all were one, so this miraculous multiplication of fish reveals the real Genius.

 

One of the books that C. S. Lewis claimed as a major influence on his own thought was G. K. Chesterton’s The Everlasting Man.   Originally published in 1925 as a sort of response to H. G. Wells’ The Outline of History, it consists of two parts, the first of which gives a sort of overview of the pre-Christian history of the world, the second part of which looks at Who Jesus Christ was, and overall demonstrates why materialistic, rationalistic, and evolutionary accounts of both man and Christ such at that proffered by Mr. Wells are unsatisfactory. Throughout the book Chesterton presented mythology and philosophy as existing in a seemingly irreconcilable tension in pre-Christian paganism.   In the fifth chapter of the first part, “Man and Mythologies” he writes that “All this mythological business belongs to the poetical part of men” and proceeds to explain why a scientific account of mythology will miss the point completely, because it is all about imagination and the aesthetic point of view of the artist.   For Chesterton, as later for Lewis, mythology did not represent an inferior form of theology, because it was not of the genus theology at all: “A man did not stand up and say ‘I believe in Jupiter and Juno and Neptune,’ etc., as he stands up and says ‘I believe in God the Father Almighty’ and the rest of the Apostles’ Creed.”   In the chapter that follows this he begins the degeneration of mythology into superstition, black magic, and devil worship, noting that contrary to what is often assumed this was characteristic of civilizations grown decadent rather than primitive societies embarking upon civilization.   He then switches gears to discuss the Philosophers, who sought absolute and abstract answers to ultimate questions, and into which category he places not just people like Aristotle, but the founders of Eastern philosophical systems usually thought of as religions, such as Buddha and, especially Confucius.   In the fifth chapter of the second part, entitled “The Escape from Paganism”, he returns to the theme of this tension and maintains that in Christ and His Church, the mythological and philosophical are brought together and reconciled:

 

The Catholic faith is the reconciliation because it is the realization both of mythology and philosophy.   It is a story and in that sense one of a hundred stores; only it is a true story.   It is a philosophy and in that sense one of a hundred philosophies; only it is a philosophy that is like life.    But above all it is a reconciliation because it is something that can only be called the philosophy of stories….To sum up; the sanity of the world was restored and the soul of man offered salvation by something which did indeed satisfy the two warring tendencies of the past; which had never been satisfied in full and most certainly never satisfied together.   It met the mythological search for romance by being a story and the philosophical search for truth by being a true story.   That is why the ideal figure had to be a historical character, as nobody had ever felt Adonis or Pan to be a historical character.   But that is also why the historical character had to be the ideal figure; and even fulfil many of the functions given to these other ideal figures; why he was at once the sacrifice and the feast, why he could be shown under the emblems of the growing vine or the rising sun.

 

The position taken by Chesterton and Lewis could be summarized as this: Jesus Christ is the true and ultimate fulfilment of pagan mythology and philosophy just as He is the true and ultimate fulfilment of Old Testament Judaism.   Those who have inherited the Puritanical spirit of Oliver Cromwell, as he in turn inherited it from the Pharisees of old, will howl their outrage over this suggestion and claim that it is unscriptural, but it is implicit in St. Paul’s account of general and special revelation in the epistle to the Romans and explicit in his address to the philosophers of Mars Hill.   Obviously, this does not constitute an endorsement of the idolatry, immorality, or philosophical errors of paganism, all of which St. Paul rebuked.   After all, saying that Jesus was the fulfilment of the Old Testament hardly constitutes an endorsement of the arrogant ethnocentrism of the Pharisees, much less the errors of the other sects of first century Judaism.  

 

For all those who believe in Jesus Christ, as the Son of the True and Living God, equal to the Father and the Holy Ghost, Who became truly Man while remaining fully God in order to redeem all of mankind, and to fulfil all that God had revealed before through general or special revelation, there could hardly be anything wrong with celebrating either His birth, as narrated to us in two of the Gospel accounts, or His triumph over all of mankind’s enemies – sin, death, the devil, and hell – in His glorious Resurrection as told in all four of the Gospel accounts.   To claim that the celebration of either of these is “pagan” is absurd.   Yes, Christmas falls close to the winter solstice, as do the festivals of lights of all sorts of other religions such as the ancient Roman Saturnalia, the Hindu/Sikh Diwali (technically this falls about a month earlier but close enough) or, for that matter, the Jewish Hanukkah (which the Gospel of John records our Lord participating in even though it is “manmade”), but this is hardly grounds for objection.    The Book of Genesis says that God put the sun, moon, and stars in the sky for “for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years” and so it is hardly surprising that the different religions that arose out of the basic need to worship that God placed in human nature at Creation would often have festivals at the same time of year.   Ironically, those who dismiss Christmas as “pagan” are themselves guilty of what they accuse others of.   Pagan, in the Latin tongue, meant rural, rustic, and peasant.   It was a snobbish term by which the sophisticated, urban, elites of ancient Rome dismissed simple country folk.   If there was anything the Church borrowed from ancient Rome that it ought not to have it was this term with its associations of contempt for those who live on farms and in villages.  

 

 


Sunday, May 31, 2020

Some Whitsunthoughts

God, who as at this time didst teach the hearts of thy faithful people, by the sending to them the light of thy Holy Spirit; Grant us by the same Spirit to have a right judgement in all things, and evermore to rejoice in his holy comfort; through the merits of Christ Jesus our Saviour, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the same Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen. - Collect for Whitsunday, Book of Common Prayer

Today is the major Christian feast day that is traditionally known in English as Whitsunday or sometimes just Whitsun. It is more generally known as Pentecost but I prefer the traditional English name for two reasons. The first is aesthetic - it is far more charming and pleasant to the ear. The second reason has to do with precision. Pentecost, from the Greek word meaning fifty, denotes two distinct, although related, festivals in two distinct religions. It can refer to the Jewish Feast of Weeks, on the fiftieth day after the Jewish Passover, or it can refer to the Christian feast which falls on the fiftieth day after the Christian Passover, Pascha or Easter. The name Pentecost, therefore, requires an explanation of whether reference is being made to the Jewish or the Christian Feast. Whitsunday can refer only to the Christian Pentecost, just as Shabuot or Shavuoth can refer only to the Jewish Pentecost. (1)

The distinction between the two having been made it is important to observe their close relationship and to note similarities and differences. As St. Paul makes clear in the book of Hebrews, the Old Covenant, its sacrifices, and Tabernacle/Temple were shadows, types, and images of the New Covenant, the atoning sacrifice of Christ, and the heavenly Tabernacle not made with human hands. The relationship is not unlike that of the shadows depicting the visual world and the shadow casters depicting the Forms in Plato's famous allegory of the Cave. Not much is said in the New Testament about Christian feasts and festivals for the obvious reason that most - some would argue all - of the New Testament was completed prior to AD 70 when Rome sacked Jerusalem and destroyed the Temple. Up to that point Jewish Christians continued, to the extent that the Jewish authorities allowed this, to participate in the worship of Second Temple Judaism, whereas the Apostolic Council of Jerusalem had determined that Gentile converts to Christianity did not have to become Jews - be circumcised, eat kosher, follow the ceremonial laws of the Old Testament, etc. - in order to be Christians. St. Paul's epistles, all except for Hebrews being written either to predominantly Gentile Churches or individuals such as Philemon and Bishops Timothy and Titus, stress the doctrine of Christian liberty. Little was written in this period about distinctly Christian patterns of worship common to Jewish and Gentile Christians alike, apart from the Gospel Sacraments of baptism and the Lord's Supper, although it is evident from the Book of Acts that Christians had already begun holding meetings on the first day of the Week in remembrance of the Resurrection.

After AD 70, the worship of Second Temple Judaism ceased to be an option for Jewish Christians, because the Temple and everything that took place there was now gone, and they were persona non grata in the synagogues taught by rabbis who were increasingly hostile to Christianity. It now became important for the Church to develop its own distinctly Christian liturgical calendar for the use of all Christians. The earliest and most important of Christian feast days were Christmas and Easter. Both were established prior to the First Council of Nicaea in 325 AD, which was the first Ecumenical Council. The evidence suggests that the Church had begun celebrating December 25th as Christmas, calculating the date of Christ's birth through a logic that is internally consistent even if it rests on a somewhat questionable premise, long before Aurelian declared the Festival of Sol Invictus on the same date and that the latter was done to compete with the Church and not the other way around. While the major reason for the Council of Nicaea was to address the Arian heresy an important minor reason was to settle the controversy over the date of Easter.

In some cases the feasts appointed by the Church have a corresponding Old Testament feast and in some cases they do not. This itself illustrates the Apostolic and especially Pauline doctrine of Christian liberty - the Church under the New Covenant was not bound to either follow the Old Testament calendar or depart from it entirely. The feasts that do correspond to Old Testament feasts point back to events which their Old Testament counterparts pointed forward to, thus extending the principle of what St. Paul said in the epistle to the Hebrews. Christmas, although it occurs at approximately the same time as a major Jewish festival - Hanukkah, the Festival of Lights, commemorating the rededication of the Temple after it was defiled by Antiochus Epiphanes in the events leading up to the Maccabean revolt - and one which was certainly kept by Jews in the time of Christ (John 10:22), must be counted as a Christian feast with no corresponding Old Testament feast. There is no record of Hanukkah being ordained by God in the Old Testament, even in the Septuagintal books which recount the events to which it points back, and there is no obvious thematic connection between the two feasts.

Easter, on the other hand, very much corresponds to the Old Testament Passover and, indeed, in most countries that do not speak a Germanic tongue is called by a name derived from the Greek word for Passover, Pascha. Here we see most clearly how the principles laid down by St. Paul in Hebrews can be extended in application to Old Testament feasts in relationship to Christian ones. Easter or Pascha is the Christian Passover. Every year in the period leading up to Easter, the Church's lexicons assign Old Testament readings from Genesis and Exodus that relate the events leading up to and including those the Jewish Passover commemorated, whereas the Gospel readings led up to and include the events which the old Passover pointed forward to and which the Christian Passover looks back to - the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, which brought to the world deliverance from the spiritual bondage to sin, Satan, death, and hell which ancient Israel's literal bondage in Egypt signified.

Whitsunday is very much like Easter in this respect. The events it commemorates, which are related in the second chapter of Acts, took place on the Jewish Pentecost. The first time this feast is mentioned in the Bible is in the twenty-third chapter of Exodus. Here it is mentioned as the second of the three feasts each year when all Israelite males were commanded to appear before the Lord, which, when Israel was established, and the Temple built, translated into the requirement of a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. The other two were the Passover itself, and Sukkot or Succoth, the Feast of Tabernacles. Neither Shavuoth nor Succoth are referred to by these names yet, in this passage, but are called "the feast of harvest, the first-fruits of thy labours" and "the feast of ingathering, which is in the end of the year" respectively (v. 16). The pilgrimage requirement explains why Jerusalem was filled with people from all over the Mediterranean world speaking a myriad of languages in the second chapter of Acts. Later in the book of Exodus when the thrice annual assembly of the Israelites is mentioned again, it is called the "feast of weeks, of the first-fruits of wheat harvest" (34:22) but the name is not yet explained.

More detailed instructions with regards to this feast are found in the twenty third chapter of Leviticus and the sixteenth chapter of Deuteronomy. On the day following the first Sabbath of Passover, the day on which they were to first "put the sickle to the corn" (Deut. 16:9), the Israelites were to offer a sheaf of the first-fruits of the grain harvest as a wave offering, along with a number of accompanying offerings (Lev. 23:10-14). Note that the grain harvest in Palestine occurs at about the same time grain is planted in this part of the world. The grain harvest was the early harvest, the spring harvest, as opposed to the late or fall harvest of the fruit. Passover occurs in the month of Abib or Aviv, (2) later called Nisan, which roughly corresponds to late March and early April. The sheaf waved in the first-fruits offering during the week of Unleavened Bread was of barley, the first grain harvested. From this offering of the first-fruits, they were to count seven weeks. At this point in time the wheat was being harvested. Seven weeks are forty-nine days, and the day after the final Sabbath of the seven, would be the fiftieth day. On that morning, they were to offer a "new meat offering unto the LORD" ("meat" here means "wheat meal"), consisting of two leavened loaves of fine flour, along with a whole bunch of other offerings which are spelled out in Leviticus and the twenty eighth chapter of Numbers. These sacrifices made the gathering at the Tabernacle/Temple a practical requirement as well as a commandment in itself. The name of the feast in both Hebrew and Greek is derived from its calculation. The "weeks" are the seven weeks, the "fiftieth day" is the following day on which the Feast actually occurred.

Note that in the instructions in the Torah or Pentateuch itself, it is quite clear that the weeks begin on a Sunday, i.e., the day after the Jewish Sabbath which is Saturday, and that Pentecost would always fall on a Sunday too. This was still the case in the Book of Acts. Pentecost there fell on the Sunday that was the fiftieth day after the Resurrection, which occurred on the Sunday after the Passover, the day of the first-fruits wave offering. Rabbinic Judaism interprets the Torah differently. It now celebrates Shavuoth each year on the same calendar date, the sixth of Sivan which does not fall on Sunday each year and which is the fiftieth day, not counted from the day after the first Sabbath in Passover but from the Ides of Nisan, which is Passover day itself. The Talmudic rabbis justified this by interpreting the sabbath in Leviticus 23 as referring not to the weekly sabbath but to the Passover Day itself as a special day of rest. This interpretation seems forced, and the more obvious understanding of a period of seven weeks beginning on a "day after the sabbath" and ending on a "sabbath" is that the regular sabbath is in view. It is worth noting that the same rabbinic tradition that interprets the Feast of Weeks as falling on the sixth of Sivan also says that this was the day on which the Ten Commandments were handed down. This is not possible without torturing the meaning of the first verse of the nineteenth chapter of Exodus. While that verse does state that the Israelites arrived at Mt. Sinai on Sivan - the third month after leaving Egypt counted by the same method as that by which the Sunday of the Resurrection is counted the third day after the Friday of the Crucifixion, i.e., with Nisan/Friday being the first in the count - but the expression "self-same day" would indicate that it was the Ides of the month or possibly the day after, but at any rate well after the sixth. Furthermore, the Commandments were not given until Moses was summoned up the mountain after the glory of God descended upon it three days after their arrival - the seventeenth of the month at the earliest. Even a Pentecost calculated by the interpretation of Leviticus I have argued for, would at the latest place the feast on the eleventh of Sivan, (3) which is still earlier than Exodus allows the arrival at Mt. Sinai to be. The original association between Shavuot and the Ten Commandments was clearly due to the events occurring in the same month, and only later was it tortured into the idea that they occurred on the same day.

While the observations in the previous paragraph may tend to put the damper on those who like to preach sermons connecting the Old and New Testament Pentecosts through the parallelism of the coming of Law and Grace they do not affect the actual connection that is evident in the Scriptures themselves.

The idea of a grain harvest is the thematic connection between the two Pentecosts. Obviously, this theme was very literal with regards to the original Pentecost. In the second chapter of Acts we see the first-fruits offered to God from a different type of harvest. It was the Lord Jesus Christ Himself who drew the analogy. The ninth chapter of St. Matthew's Gospel ends with Him going through the cities and villages, teaching and preaching, and healing people of their sickness and disease and, seeing the multitude coming to Him for these ministrations, saying to His disciples:

The harvest truly is plenteous, but the labourers are few; Pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he will send forth labourers into his harvest. (vv. 37-38)

This leads directly to the commission of the twelve Apostles in the next chapter. Similarly, in the fourth chapter of St. John's Gospel, in speaking to His disciples after His encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well He says:

Say not ye, There are yet four months, and then cometh harvest? behold, I say unto you, Lift up your eyes, and look on the fields; for they are white already to harvest. And he that reapeth receiveth wages, and gathereth fruit unto life eternal: that both he that soweth and he that reapeth may rejoice together . And herein is that saying true, One soweth, and another reapeth. I sent you to reap that whereon ye bestowed no labour: other men laboured and ye are entered into their labours. (vv. 35-38)

The harvest in both of these passages is a spiritual harvest, in which the fruit of the seed of the Word sown among the people who hear it is reaped in their coming to faith in Jesus as the Son of God and the Christ. In the second chapter of Acts we see the Apostles' reaping precisely this harvest when, after the Holy Ghost descends upon them in fulfilment of the promises of John 14:16-18; 15:26-27; 16:7-13 and Acts 1:8, they speak and are heard by each of their auditors in the multitude in their own tongue, and St. Peter delivers his first sermon calling upon them to turn in repentance and believe in the Christ Who was crucified and had risen, about three thousand so believed, and were baptized into the Church on that very day.

It is because of what happened on the first Christian Pentecost that they day has traditionally been one for baptisms and confirmations. Baptism is, of course, the first of the Gospel Sacraments, the ceremony in which one is initiated into the Christian faith, ritually cleansed, and made a member of the Church. Confirmation, which in the Eastern tradition occurs at the same time as baptism, is the extrascriptural name given to the very Scriptural practice, evident throughout the book of Acts, in which the Apostles, and later those succeeded them in the governance of the Church, lay their hands on the heads of the baptized and pray that the Holy Ghost would come upon them - which is where the association with Pentecost comes in. It is from the practice of holding baptisms on this day, and specifically the white robes traditionally worn by those about to be baptized as well as those doing the baptizing - that the day came to be called "White Sunday" or Whitsunday.

This year there will be few to no baptisms or confirmations on Whitsunday. Even if the Communist health apparatchiks loosened their unjust, totalitarian, evil and Satanic restrictions on the size of gatherings enough for us to obey God's commands and assemble together in Churches again, they would undoubtedly tell us that rituals involving tactile contact like baptism and confirmation could not take place. The only baptisms and confirmations that will take place today, therefore, will be where a bishop has made the courageous decision - one which would undoubtedly be condemned as "selfish" by professedly "Christian" writers such as Rod Dreher - to not render unto Caesar that which belongs to God.

Wherever such courage may be found, there will be seen the work of Him Who descended upon the disciples on the first Whitsunday, empowered them, and united them into the body of Christ which is the Church.

(1) That is, when it is used as the name of a single day. Since the word for "week" in Hebrew is identical to the number of days in a week, the word meaning "weeks" also means "sevens". This is the plural of the name of the Jewish Day of Rest, which simply bears the name of the number of the day of the week upon which it falls, "seven".
(2) The different spellings given for the Hebrew names of months and days reflect the difference between older and more recent rules for transliterating Hebrew into English, not two alternative Hebrew spellings. Obviously, however, whether spelled Abib or Aviv in English, it and Nisan - which can also be spelled with a double s - are alternative names for the same month. Aviv means "spring" in Hebrew and Nisan is a loan-word from Akkadian, dating to the Babylonian Captivity, meaning "first-fruit."
(3) If the 14th of Nisan falls on a Sunday, the first Sabbath in Passover Week would be the twentieth, making the day after the twenty-first. This being counted as the first day, there would be ten towards the fifty in Nisan, twenty-nine in the intervening month of Zif/Ziv or Iyar, leaving eleven for Sivan.