Time Belongs to Jesus

We have to thank a man of the north east, the Venerable Bede, for the fact that we all call the year I’m writing this 2025.

Bede didn’t invent AD as a counting system (that was Dionysius Exiguus in the sixth century), but the eighth century he popularised it as a way of counting dates. Notably in famous Ecclesiastical History of the English People.

From a different point of view, Jesus is Lord of the cosmos to the extent that we count all time according to the (admittedly, approximate) year of his birth. Time can only be spoken of in reference to the one man who was alive before time was.

As Bijan Omrani points out in his wonderful God is an Englishman, Bede’s adoption of AD to order the events of the British Isles such as the Roman invasion and departure, and St Augustine of Canterbury’s arrival in 597 to spread the gospel to the king of Kent, resulted in ‘an unprecedented widening of perspective.’

Previous ways of recording time might tie the year to a particular emperor, king, or notable event. Now every event is presented as part of a unified story that finds its origin in Jesus. That’s what you’re declaring every time you write the date, not just that we measure time according to Jesus’ life, but that the events you are recording with the date form some small part in the grand story of all things. Everything has cosmic relevance. England is no longer a windy rock on the edge of the world, but by the dating of the events of these islands by the events of the incarnation, England is connected to every important place (Rome, Jerusalem, etc) on the earth.

Time mattered for Bede. The most significant Christian controversy in England in the seventh century was the date of Easter, the arguments for which can seem arcane from a modern perspective. We still date Easter according to the system that triumphed, but most of us just open a calendar app to see when it is next year. Few of us think of the Synod of Whitby. Bede’s argument for the dating of Easter was Christological as much as it was historical. He claimed that Easter fell on the first Sunday following the first full moon following the vernal equinox because it best indicates the light of Christ and the borrowed light that the church has from Christ. He wrote on the subject at great length, because doing things at the right time and in accordance with the rest of the church greatly mattered.

The idea that Christian festivals are ordained not just by historical coherence but by the rhythms of the seasons can seem strange to us. The argument that it is most fitting that Jesus be born at the winter solstice such that ‘on a people dwelling in deep darkness, a light has shone’ (Isaiah 9) is shown to be true by looking at the sky almost sounds pagan to modern Christian ears. It shouldn’t. Creation sings the truths of the gospel.

As I write the leaves have self-immolated in protest at Winter’s spite and are now falling from the trees to damp graves on pavements, a testament to Winter’s inevitable victory. Yet, at Christmas, at the darkest of times, we will remember that Spring follows Winter just as resurrection follows death. The seasons tell us the gospel. The placement of the festivals in those seasons is deliberate. Some might argue that Christian feasts co-opted pagan ones so that they’re ‘pagan really.’ This is bad history. There is some truth in the fact that northern European cultures had festivals around solstices and equinoxes. What that demonstrates is a deeper claim that Christians make; even those false stories contain echoes of the true story. Any co-opting of festivals (which was more limited than pop culture atheist retellings) was more Christians saying ‘oh, let us show you what that was really about,’ than canny politicking by those wanting an empire to adopt their faith.

We could apply this idea that time and the rhythm of the year is not just God’s in the abstract, but also in the specifics, to our own church calendars. I have made this argument before.

We can also apply it in two broader ways. First, we can remember the poetry of life. There isn’t enough poetry in evangelicalism, but good theology is poetry and should be poetic. Creation is a gift for you to read. You need a key to read it, Jesus and his gospel, and you need that explained, in the Bible, but once you have that you can go ahead and see it everywhere. It’s all intended. The sun dies and rises every year. This is not a sign that Christianity is just a sanitised version of ancient cults, but rather a sign that creation itself sings the truest story.

Start looking, you’ll see death and resurrection everywhere. Jesus encouraged us to start by watching kernels grow into sheaves (John 12).

Second, every time you write the date on a form or on a task list or email or glance at your calendar remember that the last number in the date is there so that you remember that this email or event or task has cosmic scope. It is connected to the cataclysmic surprise of the incarnation, at the very least because you are.

Live as though that were true.

Write that email and complete that task as though they are connected to the birth of Jesus the Christ. They are because you’re doing them.

Photo by K. Mitch Hodge on Unsplash


To subscribe and receive email notifications for future posts, scroll all the way to the bottom of the page.

Would you like to support my work? The best thing you can do is share this post with your friends. Why not consider also joining my Patreon to keep my writing free for everyone. You can see other ways to support me here.