Theologian's Almanac for Week of February 11, 2024
Welcome to SALT’s “Theologian’s Almanac,” a weekly selection of important birthdays, holidays, and other upcoming milestones worth marking — specially created for a) writing sermons and prayers, b) creating content for social media channels, and c) enriching your devotional life.
For the week of Sunday, February 11:
February 11 is the day in 1990 that Nelson Mandela was released from prison just outside Cape Town, South Africa, after 27 years of incarceration for advocating violent resistance against the brutal, violent methods of the apartheid regime. President P.W. Botha had offered him release in 1988, so long as Mandela would renounce violent resistance. Mandela refused, directing his daughter, Zinzi, to read a speech in which he declared, “Let Botha...renounce violence. Let him say that he will dismantle apartheid!”
Two years later, a new president, F.W. de Klerk, met with Mandela to tell him he would be released the following day. When that day came, under a bright blue sky, Mandela walked out of the prison gates hand-in-hand with his wife, Winnie, his other hand raised in a clenched fist of victory. Apartheid came to an end four years later, and Mandela was elected president. As he put it, “It always seems impossible until it’s done.”
Speaking to a Christian gathering in 1994, Mandela spoke of “the Good News borne by our risen Messiah who chose not one race, who chose not one country, who chose not one language, who chose not one tribe, who chose all of humankind!”
February 11 is also the feast day of Caedmon, the earliest poet whose name we know who wrote in the English language (though only one of his poems survives: “Caedmon’s Hymn”). His story goes like this: Caedmon was a seventh-century Northumbrian cowherd who took care of the local monastery’s cattle, and he disliked singing (cowherds would often sing to pass the time, keep the cattle close, and keep predators away). But one night, in a dream, an angel inspired him to sing about creation. When he awoke, he composed his first song, and never looked back. Convinced he was divinely called, the monastery took him in as a monk, and he wrote lyrics for songs on Genesis, Exodus, the New Testament, and more, always honoring God the Creator. So: when it comes to the English language, the earliest poet we know of was a composer praising creation!
Here’s Denise Levertov’s luminous poem, “Caedmon.”
February 12 is the birthday of two celebrated figures born on the exact same day in 1809: Charles Darwin and Abraham Lincoln.
Charles Darwin was born in Shrewsbury, Shropshire, England. As a young man he dreamed of becoming a pastor, but his passions turned toward science: when he was 22 years old and a naturalist on a voyage to the southernmost tip of South America, Darwin visited the Galapagos Islands, taking copious notes about the species he encountered there. The islands were spaced just far enough apart from each other that the creatures on them had evolved into different species. His Galapagos notes formed the basis for his theory of natural selection, which he published 20 years later. In that book, he wrote: “There is grandeur in this view of life, with its several powers, having been originally breathed by the Creator into a few forms or into one; and that, whilst this planet has gone cycling on according to the fixed law of gravity, from so simple a beginning endless forms most beautiful and most wonderful have been and are being evolved.”
Abraham Lincoln, born near Hodgenville, Kentucky, spent his early life in a rustic cabin and had scarcely a year of traditional education. In his 20s, he decided to study law in Illinois, and so began his public and political career. He declared his opposition to slavery in 1854, and four years later, borrowing a phrase from Jesus about a “house divided against itself” (Mt 12:25), he delivered what became his famous “House Divided” speech: “A house divided against itself cannot stand. I believe this government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free.” Many of Lincoln’s views and actions were progressive by the standards of his time, and in certain respects racist by the standards of our time (for most of his life, for example, though he opposed slavery, Lincoln did not advocate for Black equality with whites) — making him one of the most complex, consequential figures in United States history.
As president, Lincoln shepherded the country through the strife and horrors of the Civil War — and he was once asked, the story goes, if he thought God was on his side. He replied, “Sir, my concern is not whether God is on our side; my greatest concern is to be on God's side, for God is always right.” On Good Friday in 1865, just five days after the end of the war, he was shot at Ford’s Theater by actor and Confederate sympathizer John Wilkes Booth. Lincoln was the first president in United States history to die by assassination.
February 12 is also the birthday of Judy Blume, born in Elizabeth, New Jersey, in 1938. She began writing seriously at age 27, a young mother with two preschool-aged children, and for years endured countless rejections from publishers. Her breakthrough was the young adult novel, Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret, the story of 11-year-old Margaret Simon’s attempts to make sense of religion, sex, menstruation, and other mysteries of adolescence. It became one of the most frequently-banned books of the later 20th century. Blume’s books have sold more than 80 million copies, and have been translated into 32 languages.
February 13 is the day in 1633 Galileo Galilei arrived in Rome to face charges of heresy (and February 15 is his birthday!). For centuries, church doctrine held that the Earth was the unmoving center of the universe, with the sun, moon, and stars revolving around it. To support this view, the Church leaned on the writings of Aristotle and Ptolemy, along with interpretations of certain biblical passages. But Galileo had been studying Nicolaus Copernicus, the Polish astronomer who proposed that the Earth moved around the Sun. When Galileo wrote Dialogue Concerning the Two Chief World Systems, Pope Urban VIII allowed its publication on the condition that Galileo include the Church’s side of the argument.
Accordingly, Galileo organized the book as a discussion between two philosophers, each representing one of the two points of view, with a neutral layperson listening in. A fool named “Simplicius” presents Aristotle’s theory, which is then quickly refuted — and that was too much for Pope Urban. He summoned Galileo to appear before the Roman Inquisition, which eventually ordered him to recant. What Galileo said in his defense, however, is worth remembering: he insisted that scientific research and Christian faith are entirely compatible, and that in fact, study of the universe would promote the proper interpretation of Scripture. This is a perfect week to recall and affirm his wisdom — and his brilliance. Indeed, legend has it that immediately after recanting, as he rose from kneeling before his inquisitors, Galileo defiantly whispered, “E pur, si muove” (“Even so, it does move,” referring to the Earth). Galileo remained a faithful Catholic for rest of his life.
February 13 is also the birthday of American religious historian Elaine Pagels, born in Palo Alto, California, in 1943. She’s best known today for her books exploring divisions in the early Christian Church, including ancient texts that didn’t make it into the New Testament. One of those is the Gospel of Thomas, about which Pagels writes: “The Gospel of Thomas claims to be the secret sayings of Jesus. There are 114 of them, so it says many things, but the central message is that Jesus is the one who reveals the divine light that brought the universe into being, and that you and I also reveal that light.”
February 13 is also Shrove Tuesday or “Mardi Gras” (“Fat Tuesday”). On one hand, “shrove” refers to the act of presenting oneself for confession and absolution in preparation for the 40-day journey of Lent, which begins tomorrow. And on the other hand, “Fat” refers to a time of revelry on this “Ash Wednesday Eve”: for example, having one last indulgent meal of oil, butter, eggs, and sugar before the season of fasting — which is why the day is often associated with pancakes (some even call it “Pancake Tuesday”). So break out the oil and butter and maple syrup (add some ricotta to the batter!) and celebrate the turning of the year, the arrival of the Lenten season of reflection and self-discipline, and ultimately, the coming feast of the resurrection!
February 14 is Ash Wednesday, the beginning of the 40 days of Lent. From the SALT archives, here are two meditations on the day and the season it begins: “Resist,” from Rev. Holly McKissick, and “Ash Wednesday,” from Rev. Heidi Carrington Heath.
Many churches will read a passage from Jesus’ “Sermon on the Mount” today, a passage traditionally associated with Ash Wednesday (Matthew 6:1-6,16-21). In this section of the sermon, Jesus challenges us to reflect on what we’re truly living for, what’s really driving our actions. As we pray, give, refrain, or consume — in other words, as we live our daily lives — are we trying to impress others or gain status or acquire things, in effect attempting to store up “treasures on earth”? Or are we instead living with genuine humility and grace, putting our hearts in the right place?
Ash Wednesday is an opportunity to step back and take stock of these indispensable questions, remembering that life is too short and too fragile to waste it on trifles and misplaced priorities. We are dust, after all, and to dust we shall return. While we’re here, what matters most — the “treasures” that are actually most valuable — are the humbling opportunities God gives us each day to help make creation a more beautiful, more just, more loving place to be.
February 14 is also Valentine’s Day. The best worldwide estimates are that to celebrate this day, something like a billion letters of affection are sent, and 60 million pounds of chocolate are bought and sold. Here’s SALT’s “Brief Theology of Valentine’s Day.”
February 15 is the birthday of Susan B. Anthony, born in Adams, Massachusetts, in 1820. She was a pioneer in the women’s suffrage movement — and because of that movement, women today have the right to speak in public, serve on public committees, serve on juries, own their wages, maintain guardianship of their children, and vote.
Anthony’s parents were liberal Quakers, and the Anthony farm often served as a meeting place for abolitionists; later in life, Anthony became close friends and colleagues with abolitionist Frederick Douglass. She joined forces with Elizabeth Cady Stanton, who wrote speeches Anthony would crisscross the country delivering. The two of them, along with a few others, founded a women’s newspaper in New York City, “The Revolutionist.” The paper’s motto was: “Men, their rights and nothing more; Women, their rights and nothing less.”
Once asked why she never married, she replied: “I never felt I could give up my life of freedom to become a man’s housekeeper. When I was young, if a girl married poor, she became a housekeeper and a drudge. If she married wealth she became a pet and a doll. Just think, had I married at twenty, I would have been a drudge or a doll for fifty-nine years. Think of it!”
She once remarked, “I distrust those people who know so well what God wants them to do, because I notice it always coincides with their own desires.”
In August of 1920, one hundred years after Anthony’s birth and fourteen after her death, the Nineteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution was ratified, prohibiting any United States citizen from being denied the right to vote on the basis of sex. The following November, more than 8 million women across the U.S. voted in elections for the first time. It took more than six decades for the remaining 12 states to ratify the amendment, with Mississippi coming in last, in 1984.
February 16 is the day in 1978 that social networking began. The Internet was in its earliest days, and two hobbyists — Chicago-based computer geeks Ward Christensen and Randy Seuss — came up with the idea of a public “bulletin board” where members could dial in and post messages, much the same way a family or community might communicate by posting slips of paper with pushpins on a corkboard. And just like that, the online social network was born.
February 16 is also the day in 600 that Pope Gregory, the story goes, recommended “God bless you” as the appropriate response to a sneeze. The plague was at its height in Europe, and the idea was that the blessing would help protect the sneezing person from sickness and death. As the plague spread, so did the custom.
February 17 is the day the International Committee of the Red Cross was founded in Geneva, Switzerland, in 1863. Four years earlier, Swiss national Henri Dunant, while traveling on a business trip in northern Italy, witnessed a bloody battle in the Italian war for independence. What struck Dunant was that the nearly 40,000 people killed or wounded were virtually left alone on the battlefield; no one was caring for them. Dunant immediately began organizing the locals to help all the victims, no matter which side of the conflict they were on. The project overwhelmed him; he eventually abandoned his business and fell into bankruptcy — but he kept at it. And in 1901, Dunant was awarded the very first Nobel Peace Prize.