Why Follow the Christian Calendar? #1 of 3:

Do not let anyone condemn you in matters of observing festivals...

(Colossians 2:15)

Moses and the Law prescribed three festivals: Passover in spring, Pentecost in summer, and Tabernacles in the fall. Since Jesus fulfilled the Law, we are no longer obliged to observe: “When the fullness of time had come, God sent his Son, born of a woman, born under the law, in order to redeem those who were under the law” (Ga 4:4-5).

Christ frees us from prescribed feasts and fasts, festivals and rituals. “Therefore,” as the Apostle instructs us, “do not let anyone condemn you in matters of food and drink or of observing festivals, new moons, or Sabbaths. These are only a shadow of what is to come, but the substance belongs to Christ” (Col 2:16-17).

So, we are free. We need not follow the Christian Calendar or any other contrived rituals and regulations (Col 2:18-20). If we follow the Christian Calendar, we do so out of our freedom. It’s not the Gospel. It’s not the “substance”. But maybe it’s one of those shadows that can help some of us stick close to the “substance”— the Gospel and the fulness of Christ.

The Christian Calendar was not “handed down” to me. Neither my denomination, nor my church, nor my family paid notice—too Catholic and liturgical, I suspect. The Calendar came to me during my early years of pastoring. I noticed how much of church life depended on me—what God was doing in my life. The personality of the pastor seemed everything. It was a burden I could not bear. The congregation deserved something bigger than what God was doing in my life. For me, the Christian Calendar became that bigger thing to guide and feed the congregation, and me as well.

Advent #4.1 of 10:

The woman was deceived.

(First Timothy 2:14)

I wish the Apostle had not said it. At least, not the way he did. There is some truth to it. The woman was deceived. However, in no time, the man joined in—deceived as well. The curse falls on both and all.

This Advent hope, the first promise of Christmas, does not come through the man, but through the woman. The Serpent will meet his end through the “seed of the woman” (Gn 1:15). What the Serpent put in motion through the woman will recoil back on him through The Woman. Maybe, that’s what the Apostle had in mind when he quickly adds: “Nevertheless, the woman will bring salvation through childbearing” (1Tm 2:15).

It means, from the start, the woman is not looked upon so much as “the deceived” as she is the one who will one day turn the tables on the deceiver. Through her and her seed, the deceiver meets his end.

Something could be said as well about how man is out of the picture. Just as Adam went to sleep when God did his woman work; so man in his power, will be out of the picture when the Mother of our Lord “conceives by the Holy Spirit” (Lk 1:35). Man becomes the helper, as woman takes center stage. Christmas will be something  between God and the Woman.

Advent #4 of 10:

The seed of the woman will crush the serpent.

(Genesis 3:15)

The serpent’s temptation brings about “the curse”. But tucked away somewhere deep down in the curse there is hope: “Creation was subjected to futility, not of its own will but by the will of the One who subjected it, in hope” (Ro 8:20). This hope has to do with the woman. It is a hope at first vague and riddled, but a hope that will make its way all the way to Bethlehem.

The curse brings futility and death to God’s good creation: “You are dust, and to dust you shall return" (Gn 3:19). But, if one looks closely, you will notice that God’s “No” has a “Yes” in it. That’s just the way God is. The curse will not be the last word.

God’s “Yes” has to do with the woman:  First, in the midst of death she will bring forth life. It is such a wonder that her name will be changed from Woman to Eve, “the life giver”. Because of her, “with the help of the Lord,” life goes on—humanity lives on.  It is life unto death, but life nonetheless—enough life to see something of us living on in our children and our children’s children.  Second, and an even greater wonder, the wonder of all wonders, from woman and her seed will come The Woman whose offspring will turn the tables on the serpent. That’s the riddled part—a riddle placed right at the beginning of the curse—a hint that there is from the beginning something tucked away down deep in the curse that will someday turn the tables bringing an end to death and liberating us to life eternal.

That’s how we sing it when Christmas comes: “He comes to make his blessings flow, far as the curse is found…” (Joy to the World).

Advent #3.1 of 10:

The Word was God

(John 1:1)

Probably something should be said about that word “Word" that appears in the first chapter of John’s Gospel. I’ll try. It’s a translation of the Greek word logos which, for the most part, is simply and properly translated as “word”. With words we tell our stories, or give an account, or put things in order, or try to make sense of things.

Which leads philosophers and poets to use logos in a deeper sense meaning “reason,” or “rational order.” The logos is that which makes sense of things. We get our word “logic” from it as well as a host of “ology” words like biology and sociology; by which we mean “the study of”. So “biology” is the study of life and sociology is the study of social structures. Today, we think of such studies in more scientific ways as methods for discovering the mechanisms of life or society. For philosophers and poets of old, logos had to do with discovering the meaning of things. What is the meaning of life? Or, what is the “Meaning” that underlies all things? That’s the logos of poets and philosophers.

Thus, we might translate John’s poetic use of logos something like this: “In the beginning was the Meaning, and the Meaning was with God, and the Meaning was God.” The Chinese version of the Bible, I’ve been told, translates logos in John chapter one with the word “tao”: “In the beginning was the Tao…” Lewis would like that (his “Illustrations of the Tao” in The Abolition of Man).The idea is that the Word that calls all things into being continues to echo. Poets and philosophers contemplate this sustaining echo of the eternal Logos.

My hunch is that poets and philosophers would have little trouble with John’s first stanza. They would nod their heads in approval: “Yes, in the beginning was the Logos…” It’s not until the last stanza of John’s poem that the philosophers and poets realize John is talking about something they could never imagine. We’ll save that shocking surprise for Christmas.

For now, Advent has to do, not only with how Israel’s prophets foretell the mystery and wonder of Christmas, but also how some of the poets and philosophers long for it as well. There’s something universal about Advent. As the Apostle Paul said to the Athenian philosophers: “Even some of your poets have said…” (Ac 17). All humans wonder about such things. As we sing during Advent: “Dear desire of every nation, Joy of every longing heart” (Come Thou Long Expected Jesus). An echo of that sustaining Logos, spoken before the beginning, still lingers in God’s creation.

Advent #3 of 10:

In the beginning was the Word,

and the Word was with God,

and the Word was God.

(John 1:1)

The Word speaks before the beginning: “Let there be light.” And from that Word “light shines and darkness could not overtake it” (Jn 1:5)—from that Word, there’s light instead of darkness, there is something instead of nothing.

God speaks creation into being out of his absolute freedom—no need on his part. God is quite at peace within himself—Father, Son and Holy Spirit and the love and delight that flows within the infinitely spacious Godhead. Out of his eternal love and pleasure, God calls forth the heavens and the earth. The people of God can’t help but sing about it (Ps 33):

Praise the Lord with the lyre;

  make melody to him with the harp.

Sing to him a new song;

  …the earth is full of his love.

For by the Word of the Lord the heavens were made,

   and all their host by the breath of his mouth.

The whole of our triune God is in on it:  God the Father who creates all things; and, God the Son who redeems all things; and, God the Holy Spirit who hovers over all things (Gn 1:1-4). Advent reminds us that Christmas was always and eternally in the heart of God. It’s just the way God is.

Advent #2 of 10:

In the beginning was the Word

(John 1:1)

That’s how the Gospel according to John begins. It’s the back story; or, the Advent part of the Christmas story that speaks of “the Word” that existed before the beginning began. Sometimes we wonder if our “handed down faith” can be “honest faith” (2Tm 1)? Maybe we were just born into it. How does our “handed down faith” become our own personal, real and authentic faith? For starters, it’s helpful to recall that our faith is in something bigger than our family, or clan, or church, or denomination. It’s not the invention of my parents or my parent’s parents or of Western Culture. The object of our faith is the Eternal Word before the beginning—before the origin of the universe, before the big bang put stuff in motion. Before the beginning began, there was the Eternal Word.

The creeds and the calendar help us recall the vastness of our faith—the trusted path of our faith in the Christ of Christmas.

Thanksgiving to Advent:

An Honest Faith handed down from your Grandmother Lois

(Second Timothy 1:5)

It was easy to be grateful on Thanksgiving Day. The meal itself was something of a miracle. When our oven malfunctioned it seemed all was lost. But family kicked in and managed to set table for all twenty-one of us—our whole family.

It so happens, we all share “an honest faith handed down.”  For each one, questions can’t help but come: “Is it really true?”  Maybe I believe because my parents and my parents’ parents believed? Or, maybe if I were born in Iran, for example, I would simply believe what Iranians believe? All fair and honest questions. What turns “faith handed down” into my very own “honest faith”?

Maybe the first thing to say about “honest faith” is that it welcomes such questions—otherwise it would not be honest faith. That’s the way with Jesus. He’s always open to our questions. Take Thomas’ question for example (Jn 14): Jesus says, “I go to prepare a place for you …and you know where I am going.” Thomas says to Jesus, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus is not offended by Thomas’ question. He welcomes it. Without it, we would not have Jesus' answer: “I am the way, and the truth, and the life...”

Our faith isn’t about vague religious or philosophical thoughts; but rather, a belief that Christmas and Easter are really so. Which gets me to Advent when we celebrate the beginning of the Big Story that envelopes all our little stories—like the little story of our miracle Thanksgiving Dinner, for example. Our Christian Calendar celebrates this Big Gospel Story that begins before the beginning and ends without end.

During the reception of one of those Winter’s weddings, a couple of Stanford smart young men—cousins, I believe; engaged me in interesting conversation concerning the various paths one takes up the mountain. “It’s not the path that matters,” they argued, “but the mountain.” I asked, “What path have you chosen?” They explained how they were pondering their path. I have a hunch they are still pondering. Honest Faith chooses its path. I can’t imagine a better path than that one path that celebrates Christmas and Easter.