The text of this missive, preserved by the historian Eusebius of Caesarea in his work Vita Constantini, reveals that the issue was not purely liturgical. It was a political and theological maneuver designed to consolidate the identity of Christianity as an imperial religion—independent of, and often opposed to, its Hebrew roots.

The Ideological Rupture: “Nothing in Common with the Jews”

In his letter, Constantine outlines a motivation that transcends the organization of worship. The Emperor’s language is blunt, laying the foundations for state-institutionalized anti-Judaism:

“It appeared unworthy that in the celebration of this holiest of feasts we should follow the practice of the Jews, who have impiously defiled their hands with enormous sin, and are, therefore, deservedly afflicted with blindness of soul… Let us, then, have nothing in common with the detestable Jewish crowd; for we have received from our Savior a different way.”

This rhetoric transformed a technical discrepancy into a theological sentence. For Constantine, the unity of the Empire required a “pure” faith that did not depend on the customs of a people whom the new Roman order already considered alien.

From Biblical Tradition to Astronomical Calculation

Before Nicaea, the Quartodeciman controversy existed: many communities (especially in Asia Minor) celebrated Easter on the 14th of Nisan, following the biblical lunisolar calendar of Passover (Pesach).

Nicaea ended this diversity by establishing its own rule: Easter would be celebrated on the first Sunday after the first full moon following the spring equinox. To ensure this independence, the Council delegated the scientific calculation to the astronomers of Alexandria. From that moment on, the Church ceased consulting rabbis to determine its primary feast, replacing the chronology of the Torah with Greco-Roman astronomical observation.

Uniformity as Political Stability

Constantine’s intervention must be understood under the logic of the Roman Consensus. Following the Edict of Milan, Christianity became the cohesive axis of the Empire. For the Emperor, the existence of different paschal calendars was not only religious disorder but a factor of political division. An Empire with a single sovereign and a single faith required, by necessity, a single calendar. Unification thus responded to an administrative need for social control and stability.

Consequences: The Criminalization of Dissent

The separation from the Jewish calendar had profound implications for religious freedom within the Church itself:

• Identity in Contrast: The Church began to define itself deliberately in opposition to Judaism, distancing itself from the original context of the Gospels, where the death and resurrection of Jesus are intrinsically linked to Passover.

• Persecution of “Rebels”: Those who refused to abandon the biblical calendar—such as the Quartodecimans or the followers of Audius of Edessa—were labeled heretics.

• State Repression: What began as a liturgical debate ended as a civil crime. Under successors like Theodosius I, groups that persisted in following the 14th of Nisan suffered the confiscation of their temples and the exile of their leaders.

Conclusion

Constantine’s post-Nicaea letter represents the birth certificate of modern institutional Christian identity. By forcing the separation from the Jewish calendar and establishing a uniform practice through state power, the Emperor did more than organize liturgy; he drew the final border between the Church and the Synagogue.

This historical process transformed a faith born within Second Temple Judaism into a Roman imperial structure, whose heritage—including the way it calculates time—endures to this day.

Author: William Salazar

1. The Origins: A Sadducean Renaissance?

To understand the emergence of Karaism in the 8th century CE, it is inevitable to look back at the turbulent period of the Second Temple. Many historians have labeled Karaism as a “neo-Sadduceeism,” but this relationship is more of a methodological heritage than an exact replica.

The DNA of “Sola Scriptura”:

The strongest connection lies in the absolute rejection of the Oral Torah. Much like the ancient Sadducees, the Karaites broke away from the authority of traditions added by the Sages (Pharisees in antiquity, Rabbis in the Middle Ages), maintaining that only what is written is binding.

However, a fundamental evolution exists between the two groups:

• The Sadducees: Traditionally associated with an observance centered almost exclusively on the Torah of Moses (Pentateuco), granting the Prophets a secondary or purely historical value.

• The Karaites: They took a step further by embracing the 24 books of the Tanakh as an organic body. For them, the rest of the Scriptures (Prophets and Writings) are not only inspired word but the essential philological tool for deciphering the Hebrew of the Torah.

From Politics to Textual Analysis:

While Sadduceeism was a priestly and political elite linked to the Temple, Karaism was born in the Diaspora as a movement of scholarship and grammar. No longer living in an era where Hebrew was the everyday language of the street, the Karaites used the entire Tanakh as a “divine dictionary.” If a law in Leviticus appeared ambiguous, they sought linguistic analogies in the Psalms or Isaiah to extract its technical meaning.

This transition allowed the spirit of resistance against the Rabbinic monopoly to survive. It was not simply a matter of “disbelieving” in the Talmud, but of proposing that truth resides in personal investigation (itju) and in the rigorous analysis of the syntax and morphology of every word revealed in the 24 sacred books.

A “Qumran-style” Missing Link:

It is fascinating to note that the Karaite “renaissance” may have been fueled by the discovery of ancient manuscripts. Authors like Al-Qirqisani suggest that dissident groups found scrolls in caves (possibly related to the Essenes or Sadducean sectors of Qumran) that reinforced their vision of a Judaism based strictly on the text, far from the interpretations accumulated over centuries of oral tradition.

2. An Orthodox Worldview.

It is a common mistake to think of Karaism as a “watered-down” version of Judaism. On the contrary, its rigor is often greater than that of Rabbinic Judaism. Despite their rejection of the Talmud, Karaites maintain a worldview very similar to the Rabbinic one in its fundamentals:

• Absolute ethical monotheism.

• The centrality of Shabbat and purity laws.

• The Messianic hope.

The difference lies in the source of authority. While Rabbinic Judaism views the Talmud as the “instruction manual” necessary to understand the Torah, Karaism applies the principle of itju (investigation): every individual has the responsibility to study the original text. As Anan ben David himself said: “Search well in the Scripture and do not rely on my opinion.”

3. The Great Point of Friction.

The divergence between Karaism and Rabbinic Judaism is not merely theoretical; it manifests in a daily praxis that alters the rhythm of time, the posture of the body before the Divine, and the cycle of celebrations. By rejecting the “fence around the Torah” built by the Sages of the Talmud, the Karaites maintain customs that appear almost unrecognizable to the modern observer.

Calendar and Observation:

The most evident fracture occurs in the calendar. While Rabbinic Judaism is governed by a fixed mathematical calculation system (established by Hillel II in the 4th century), Karaites insist on physical evidence:

• The New Moon (Rosh Chodesh): The month only begins when the first sliver of the moon is visible to the naked eye from the land of Israel. They do not accept prior astronomical calculations if there are no witnesses to the lunar appearance.

• The Aviv (The Barley): The Torah commands the celebration of Passover in the month of “ripened barley.” Therefore, Karaites annually inspect the fields in Israel. If the barley has not reached the state of Aviv, a leap month is added to the calendar, regardless of what the mathematical tables dictate.

This frequently causes Karaite festivals to fall on different days or even months than those of the rest of the Jewish world.

The Liturgy:

Karaite tefillah (prayer) is an echo of Temple times and differs drastically from standard Rabbinic liturgy:

• Full Prostration: Unlike Rabbinic synagogues, where one prays sitting or standing, Karaites pray on their knees and perform full prostration (Hishtajavayah), touching the ground with their foreheads. Their synagogues are usually covered with carpets, and they are entered without shoes to maintain the sanctity of the space.

• Twice a Day: Based on the daily sacrifices described in the Tanakh (the Tamid of the morning and afternoon), Karaites establish two mandatory prayer times, unlike the three prayers (Shacharit, Mincha, and Ma’ariv) of the Rabbinic system.

• Psalms and Scripture Only: Their liturgy avoids medieval hymns or the compositions of the Sages, focusing almost exclusively on biblical verses and Psalms.

Identity and Traditions:

Karaism is also distinguished by what it does not do, eliminating traditions they consider human inventions without a basis in the Tanakh:

• Use of the Kippah: For a Karaite, covering the head is a sign of respect or a cultural custom (minhag), but not a legal obligation. They do not consider the biblical text to require the permanent use of the kippah, so many only cover themselves during prayer or study.

• Post-Biblical Holidays: Karaism does not celebrate holidays that are not explicitly commanded in the Torah of Moses. Therefore, they do not celebrate Hanukkah (which commemorates events from the Maccabean period) nor do they consider Purim a mandatory religious holiday with a Megillah reading in the synagogue, though they recognize the historicity of the Book of Esther.

• Interpretation of Tefillin: While Rabbinic Judaism interprets “bind them as a sign on your hand” literally (using leather boxes), Karaites understand it as a metaphor for carrying the commandments in the heart and mind at all times; thus, they do not use physical phylacteries.

This rigour in literal interpretation makes Karaite life paradoxically simpler in its requirements for religious “objects,” yet much more demanding in the direct observation of nature and the pure text.

4. The Golden Age of Karaism.

Between the 9th and 11th centuries, Karaism experienced its “Golden Age.” Thanks to their emphasis on grammar and philology, Karaite scholars were pioneers in the scientific study of Hebrew. Their influence was so vast that it is estimated they came to represent nearly 40% of the world’s Jewish population.

Centers such as Jerusalem, Cairo, and later Crimea and Lithuania, teemed with debates between “Rabbanites” and “Karaites.” It was precisely this intellectual pressure that forced Rabbinic leaders like Saadia Gaon to refine Jewish philosophy and the defense of the Talmud to prevent Karaism from becoming the dominant current.

5. Karaism Today.

After centuries of persecution and a numerical decline following World War II, the center of gravity for Karaism shifted from Egypt to Israel, although many communities are still found in the Diaspora.

Today, approximately 30,000 to 40,000 Karaites live in Israel, concentrated mainly in cities such as Ramla (where their Great Synagogue and administrative center are located), Ashdod, and Beer Sheva.

• Legal Status: They are recognized as Jews by the State of Israel (under the Law of Return), but they maintain their own religious court for matters of marriage and divorce.

• Preservation: They struggle to keep their liturgical language and unique culinary and religious traditions alive, integrating into modern Israeli society without renouncing their identity as the last guardians of the pure text.

Karaism reminds us that Judaism has never been a monolithic block, but a constant—and sometimes fierce—dialogue between the written letter and the voice of tradition.

Author: Dr. Liber Aguiar

1. The Historical Controversy: Who Fixed the Calendar?

Traditional narrative attributes the creation of the calculated calendar to Hillel II (4th century). Nevertheless, contemporary experts, such as Dr. Rachel Elior of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, argue that this system was not fully consolidated until the 10th century with Hayyim Gaon.

It is striking that the Talmud contains no clear record of this reform by Hillel II. On the contrary, the Talmud meticulously describes how the Sanhedrin received eyewitnesses of the new moon (Rosh Chodesh) to declare the beginning of the month. The current rabbinic calendar—based on a 19-year cycle with fixed intercalary months (3, 6, 8, 11, etc.)—ignores fundamental biblical variables such as the ripening of the barley (Aviv).

2. The Problem of Authority and Semikhah

For the believer in the Messiah, the underlying question is not merely technical, but one of authority: Who constituted these rabbis as “judges” over Israel to alter the appointed times (Moadim)? The principle of authority in the Torah requires judges to have a direct chain of transmission from Moses, known as Semikhah. However, rabbinic Judaism itself admits that this chain was broken following the Roman persecutions and the destruction of the Second Temple.

Rabbinic Acknowledgment (Maimonides, Mishneh Torah, Hilkhot Sanhedrin 4:11):

“It appears to me that if all the wise men in the Land of Israel were to agree to appoint judges and grant them Semikhah, they would have Semikhah… However, the original chain of Semikhah that began with Moses our teacher was interrupted… and today we do not possess judges with original Semikhah.”

Analysis of Interrupted Authority:

• Generations without Semikhah: The Talmud (Sanhedrin 13b-14a) details the desperate efforts of Rabbi Yehuda ben Baba to preserve Semikhah under Hadrian’s persecution but acknowledges that the structure of the Sanhedrin as a court with biblical authority expired. Subsequent rabbis called themselves “sages,” but they lost the capacity to legislate changes affecting Torah commandments permanently.

• The Paradox of Halakhah d’Rabanan: While the implementation of rabbinic laws serves an organizational function, Halakhah establishes that a law of the sages cannot invalidate a law of the Torah (Devarim). The calendar, being an explicit commandment to determine the Feasts of the Eternal, enters into direct conflict when based on human calculations that ignore biblical observation.

• The Authority of the Messiah as Aleph-Tav: For us, this historical interruption confirms the need for a higher authority. While modern Hebrew roots often “demote” the Messiah to a mere rabbi, we recognize that His authority as the Aleph-Tav changes the entire legal landscape. He not only confirmed the first-century calendar but possesses the inherent authority to restore what men, by necessity or error, altered.

3. The Jewish Perspective: A “Temporary” Change

We must understand, without an inquisitive spirit, why rabbinic Judaism made these changes. In the absence of the Temple and the impossibility of convening the Sanhedrin in the Land of Israel to receive witnesses, the calculated calendar was the only option to maintain unity in the Diaspora.

The fascinating part is that Jewish thought itself admits these changes are transitory. They are not considered a “new revelation,” but an emergency measure meant to be revoked.

Acknowledgment of Transience (Maimonides, Sefer HaMitzvot, Positive Commandment 153):

“This [fixing the calendar by calculation] is a law that we only practice in the Diaspora due to the destruction of the Temple and the absence of a Sanhedrin in the Land of Israel… But when the Messiah comes and the Temple is rebuilt, we will necessarily return to the system of direct observation and the testimony of witnesses, for that is the eternal law of the Torah.”

Analysis of the Expected Restoration:

• The Messiah as Restorer: From a rabbinic perspective, this “necessary change” has no eternal repercussion; they expect that when the Messiah comes, He will “fix” these details and put the original calendar into practice. In other words, even traditional Judaism believes the Messiah will restore the calendar!

• The Paradox of the Follower of Yeshua: Here lies our greatest certainty: if the Messiah has already come (Yeshua) and He already confirmed the observation calendar of the first century, why should we follow a calendar that is supposed to be “temporary” until He arrives?

• Return to the Land: The rabbinic calendar was designed to survive in dispersion. However, for those of us reached by the Messiah’s redemption and returning to the roots of the faith, the logical path is to live under the restored calendar He already validated, anticipating the fullness of the Kingdom.

4. Epiphanius’ Testimony and the 4th-Century Context

Epiphanius of Salamis is often cited to validate the current rabbinic calendar, but an analysis of the original text reveals that Epiphanius was describing a crisis of unity, not an established norm. He refers to the calendar of the first-century Pharisees, which—according to his testimony—the Jews of his time were beginning to lose.

The Quote from Epiphanius (Panarion 70.10.2):

“The apostles decreed nothing regarding this [the day of Passover], but said: ‘We do not care when you celebrate it, as long as you do not commit errors.’ But when the Jews were in a state of disorder and had lost the correct reckoning, the apostles said: ‘Even if they err, do not worry… celebrate it when they do.'”

Technical Analysis of the Text:

• Apostolic Rule vs. Innovation: Epiphanius mentions a prior “apostolic rule.” If the text he cites existed, it predates the Hillel II reform. Therefore, the apostles referred to the observation calendar of the Second Temple, not the mathematical system that emerged centuries later.

• The Roman Church and Nicaea: Epiphanius openly admits that the Roman Church, which he represented, changed this rule after the Council of Nicaea to separate from Jewish practice. As researchers, we understand this Roman change lacks biblical basis, as does the subsequent rabbinic shift.

• The “Jewish Disorder”: The phrase “when the Jews… had lost the correct reckoning” is key. It confirms that in the 4th century, the system was in crisis. This indicates the calendar change began as an emergency measure in the academies of Sura and Pumbedita and was exported through the Diaspora until being fixed in the era of the Geonim.

Conclusion

When reading Epiphanius in context, it is clear that the modern calculated calendar is not what he is defending; he is documenting how the 4th-century Jewish world was losing the precision of the Messiah’s original calendar. If we are followers of Messiah (Mashiach), our compass should not be the “disorder” of the 4th century, but the originality of the first century that the Messiah Himself validated with His presence and fulfillment of the Feasts.

It is important to persevere in excellence, yet we must not “drown in a glass of water” over these legal debates. As believers, our justification rests upon the redemptive work of the Messiah. However, if we seek the originality of our faith, it is most logical to follow the model our Master accepted and confirmed.

The modern rabbinic calendar was a human solution for a people in exile without a Temple or Messiah. But for those who have found the Messiah, the restoration has already begun. By seeking biblical observation, we are not inventing something new; we are returning to what the Eternal entrusted to His people from the beginning and what Yeshua, the Final Authority, validated with His life.

“Then God said, ‘Let there be lights in the firmament of the heavens to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs and seasons (Moadim), and for days and years.'” — Genesis 1:14

Author: Dr. Liber Aguiar

In various parts of the world today, there is a growing sense of dissatisfaction with existing political and social systems. Many countries experience cultural tensions, political polarization, and constant debates over the direction of their institutions. In some places, these processes develop slowly; in others, like Cuba, the ruptures have been more abrupt and evident. Yet, the underlying pattern remains similar.

For more than a century, successive Cuban generations have attempted to rebuild the country from scratch. Each rupture produced new political projects, new constitutions, and new promises to reorganize society. Nevertheless, the cycles of crisis have continued.

This suggests that the problem has not been solely political. It has been a deeper issue: A PROBLEM OF FOUNDATION.

The various attempts at national reconstruction in Cuba relied on ideas typical of their time. At different moments, appeals were made to nationalism, progressivism, socialism, or other ideological currents that promised to reorganize society and correct its injustices. But ideologies change with the intellectual currents of each era. When ideas change, so do the national projects built upon them.

A society that constantly shifts its intellectual foundation ends up entering cycles of permanent reconstruction. In many contemporary debates, the history of the West is often viewed as a model of institutional stability. However, even that historical development was more complex than is sometimes acknowledged. Many modern nations were not built exclusively on biblical principles. Over time, those foundations merged with the ideas of the Enlightenment, which centered human intellectual autonomy as the source of truth and progress.

The Enlightenment introduced a growing confidence in the human capacity to understand and reorganize society through knowledge, reason, and intellectual systems. In itself, the development of human thought produced significant advancements in many areas. However, when these ideas began to function as a cultural foundation, they also transformed how societies understood the human being.

In practice, this blend produced a form of cultural Christianity that progressively drifted away from the original moral framework of the Bible. Although many Western societies continued to use religious language and Christian symbols, the cultural center of gravity shifted toward a reliance on human projects as the primary engine of history.

The result was a civilization that preserved part of its biblical heritage but began to depend increasingly on ideologies, social theories, and political projects as the foundation for organizing society.

This type of system possesses a particular characteristic: it tends to generate its own detractors from within. When a society bases its stability on shifting intellectual currents, new generations inevitably begin to question previous ideas. Each new theory promises to correct the errors of the last, producing continuous cycles of reform, crisis, and reconstruction. The system eventually finds itself forced to reconsider itself constantly without ever establishing a stable foundation.

In this way, many societies enter a permanent process of searching for new solutions without ever resolving the core problem.

Here, we find a vital observation that runs through the history of civilizations: societies do not change through politics first. They change first through anthropology—through the idea a culture holds regarding what a human being is. When a society adopts a specific vision of human nature, that vision eventually reflects in its institutions, its politics, and its social structures.

At this point, we can distinguish between two major traditions that have profoundly marked modern history:

• On one hand, a tradition places the redemption of the human being in knowledge and intellectual projects. According to this view, moral and social progress is achieved primarily through ideas, systems, or programs capable of reorganizing society. From this perspective, social change occurs fundamentally through structural and political transformations.

• On the other hand, the biblical tradition starts from a different anthropology. According to this view, the human being is created in the image of God and possesses an intrinsic dignity that does not depend on political systems or social theories. At the same time, the Bible recognizes that human nature exists within a moral reality that requires truth, responsibility, and internal transformation.

From this perspective, real societal change does not begin in political systems. It begins in the moral formation of the individual. When a culture adopts a mistaken view of human nature, it inevitably builds institutions that reflect that error. For this reason, many political projects that promise to redeem society through systems or ideologies eventually fail over time: they attempt to resolve at an institutional level what is actually a problem of moral foundation.

The biblical tradition proposes a different order: first, the transformation of the human heart; then, the moral life arising from that transformation; and finally, the social structures that emerge from a culture formed by those values. Political institutions, from this viewpoint, are not the starting point of civilization. They are the result of the moral culture that exists within a society.

From this outlook, the Cuban case could represent something more than a national problem. Precisely because its crises have been more visible, Cuba could become a clear example of a question that many other societies face less evidently.

While in other countries the cycles of ideological change develop slowly, in Cuba, the ruptures have exposed more clearly the consequences of building national projects on shifting intellectual foundations. For this reason, the Cuban case could offer a rare opportunity: the possibility of reconsidering the very foundation upon which a society is built. Nations rarely have the chance to rethink their cultural bases from the beginning. When they do, the decisions they make can influence not only their own future but also serve as a reference for other peoples facing similar challenges.

Ultimately, the future of a nation does not depend solely on its political systems or its constitutions. It depends on the moral foundation upon which it decides to build its culture. If that foundation is based on human projects that promise social redemption through shifting ideologies, the cycles of crisis tend to repeat.

But if a society returns to a solid foundation—one that simultaneously recognizes human dignity and moral responsibility—then the institutions arising from that culture can acquire a much deeper stability. In that sense, the Cuban case could show something that many societies have yet to see clearly: that the true starting point for a nation’s future is not found in politics first.

It is found in the truth upon which it decides to build its future.

Author: William Salazar.

A Universal Challenge.

There is no creature on Earth more difficult to direct than the human being. This tendency toward divergence is not a failure of the modern system, but an intrinsic characteristic. Even in the theological account of the Universal Kingdom, the Creator Himself faced rebellion and discord. If schism emerged within the realm of the Absolute, what hope for total control can earthly rulers have?

History teaches us that there is no corner of the world where resistance has not sprouted in some form. The human being possesses a spark of autonomy that defies any attempt at forced homogenization.

The Recourse of Divinization.

When governments enter crisis and see their dominance threatened, they often resort to an ancient strategy: the sacralization of power. Pagan kings, especially as they witnessed the twilight of their domains, understood that physical fear was not enough; they required control over the soul.

In secular antiquity, it was common to fabricate myths where the king was “adopted” by the gods. This act was not a mere religious whim, but a precise political tool:

• Divinization: The ruler ceased to be a mortal peer and became an extension of the sacred.

• The Edict and the Image: Monuments were erected and decrees issued demanding public worship.

• The Paradigm of Submission: These gestures created a social pressure so strong that even those who knew the myth was a lie ended up surrendering to the power structure in order to survive.

The Evolution of Control.

Following the victory of monotheism in the most influential parts of the world, primarily through Christianity, rulers hit a wall: they could no longer directly self-deify without being branded as blasphemers. In response, earthly power adopted a more subtle but equally dangerous modality: not seeking to be God, but manipulating the religion built around Him.

In modern times, this strategy consists of “hijacking” sacred language to validate oneself. It is no longer about building a golden statue, but about attempting to make the religious structure serve the interests of the throne. The ruler seeks to present himself as the sole interpreter of the divine will or the indispensable protector of the faith, thus ensuring the subject feels that opposing political power is, in some way, betraying God. This is the ultimate assault on intimacy: using an individual’s own faith to shackle their will.

“For those who truly interact with God, any substitution of His figure by a political deity or a false expectation is, in essence, a grave betrayal: idolatry.”

Liberty as an Act of Faithfulness.

For the individual who maintains an authentic relationship with the transcendent, politics regains its legitimate place: that of a temporary and limited service. The true tragedy occurs when the ruler seeks to occupy the throne of the conscience.

History is a cycle of rulers attempting to penetrate human intimacy through religion or myth. However, the essence of monotheism reminds us that there is a part of us that belongs neither to the State, nor the king, nor the system, but solely to the Eternal.

Are we witnessing new forms of “divinization” in public discourse today? The answer to this question defines our true freedom.

Author: Liber Aguiar (based on lectures by G.K. Wilson regarding Daniel 3)

1. The Hebraic Substratum: The Nasraye and the “Netzer”.

Long before the Apostolic writings spread in Greek, the original community identified itself within its Semitic matrix. The Greek term Christianoi (Acts 11:26) was, in its origin, an external label—possibly derogatory—imposed by the inhabitants of Antioch. But in the heart of the Aramaic and Syriac-speaking community, they were the Nasraye (ܢܨܪ̈ܝܐ).

This term, preserved in the Peshitta (the Syriac version of the Bible), is not merely a geographic demonym for Nazareth, but a Messianic title. It derives from the Hebrew Netzer (ܢܨܪ), the “Branch” or “Shoot” promised in Isaiah 11:1. By calling themselves Nasraye, the church of the Peshitta affirmed that they were not practicing a new religion, but were the branches grafted into the shoot of Jesse. For them, Jesus was not a “Greek character,” but the Hebrew Mashiaj.

2. Syriac and the Peshitta: The Persistence of the Mshikhaye.

In the theological centers of Edessa and Nisibis, the Syriac language produced some of the richest literature of early Christianity. In the Demonstrations of Aphrahat (the “Persian Sage,” 4th century), the author does not appeal to Roman terminology; instead, he uses Mshikhaye (ܡܫܝܚܝܐ)—Messianics.

For Aphrahat and the scribes of the Peshitta, faith was defined by union with the Mshikha. In their texts, such as Tatian’s Diatessaron, the believer’s identity is that of a “stranger” (aksnaya) in the world, whose citizenship belongs not to the Empire, but to the Kingdom of the Messiah. Here, the word “Christian” is either non-existent or secondary to the weight of the Messianic covenant.

3. Coptic and the Nag Hammadi Texts: The “Chosen” of Egypt.

Descending into Upper Egypt, the Christianity of the 2nd and 3rd centuries expressed itself in Coptic. In this context, identity moved away from imperial politics to focus on spiritual nature. In the Gospel of Philip (one of the codices from Nag Hammadi), we find a fascinating distinction: the followers of Jesus are spoken of as those who have received the “anointing” (p-soh).

For a speaker of Sahidic Coptic, identity was not a social label but an internal condition. In the Letters of Saint Anthony the Great, the father of monasticism, the focus is on the transformation of man into a “new creature.” For these communities, the Greek term Christianoi was an administrative formality from Alexandria, while their lived reality was that of the “Gnostics” (in the sense of those who know God) or the “Set Apart.”

4. Ge’ez and the Legacy of Aksum: The Mshikhawi of Ethiopia.

Ethiopia presents the most robust case of an identity that never detached itself from its Jewish roots. In its sacred language, Ge’ez, the term is Mshikhawi. This identity is cemented in the Kebra Nagast (“The Glory of the Kings”), the national and religious epic of Ethiopia.

In this form of Christianity, identity is defined not by a break from the Old Testament, but by its continuity. The follower of the Mashiaj in Ethiopia sees themselves as an heir to the Ark of the Covenant. Their name, Mshikhawi, is not a Roman religious category, but a royal and lineage-based one: they are the men of the King Messiah, spiritual descendants of Solomon.

The Veil of Greek.

History has reached us in Greek, and with it, the word “Christian.” However, the linguistic archaeology of the Peshitta, the Coptic codices, and the manuscripts of Aksum returns to us a more vibrant and diverse image.

By recovering names like Nasraye or Mshikhawi, we pull back the veil of Roman institutionalization. We discover that the original faith was not a uniform structure under a state decree, but an explosion of communities that understood themselves as the Branch, the Anointing, and the Lineage of the Mashiaj. Perhaps, by letting go of the label “Christians,” we may truly embrace the identity of the Shoot.

By: Dr. Liber Aguiar

1. Roman Law and the Need for a “State Calendar”

In the Roman world, whatever was not recorded in the calendar did not legally exist. The Roman legal system was extremely meticulous regarding the fasti (the days permitted for business and religious observance). For the Church to cease being a marginal “superstition” and become a religio licita (a permitted religion), it needed to speak the language of the State: the language of temporal unification.

The Chronograph of 354 is, in essence, a response to the demands of Roman Law. By systematizing the feasts of the martyrs and fixing the birth of Christ, the Church was fulfilling the requirements of an official institution. The document allowed citizens like Valentinian—the aristocrat for whom the manuscript was created—to navigate their civil duties and their new religious obligations under a single, coherent administrative order.

2. The Legacy of Nicaea: Uniformity as a Power Strategy

The definitive institutionalization of Christianity required an end to the chaos of regional traditions. While the East favored Epiphany (January 6th), Rome understood that an institution divided in its dates was an institution weak in the face of imperial bureaucracy.

Following the Council of Nicaea (325 AD), which had already unified the date of Easter, the calendar of 336 functioned as the “architectural blueprint” for this new era. The fixing of Christmas was the logical step toward establishing a centralized authority. It was not just about remembering a birth, but about demonstrating that the Church possessed the capacity to dictate a universal time for the entire Empire, from Britannia to Syria.

3. The Substitution of Imperial Cult: From the Sun to Christ

The deepest political cause behind the date of December 25th was the supplantation of the Unconquered Sun (Sol Invictus). This was the tutelary deity of the emperors since Aurelian. By claiming the winter solstice, the Church was not only performing a task of “symbolic evangelization,” but was executing a deliberate act of power appropriation.

If the emperor was the source of light and order in paganism, State Christianity proposed Christ as the “Sun of Righteousness.” By placing Christmas at the heart of the Roman solar calendar, the Church positioned itself as the true manager of the Empire’s peace and order, symbolically displacing the emperor as the center of public worship to place itself in that position of privilege.

4. Conclusion: An Institution to Govern Time

Ultimately, the Chronograph of 354 was not a product of mystical theology, but of political realism. It was the tool that allowed Christianity to comply with the norms of Roman institutionality, unifying the faith under the standards of an imperial organization.

Through this calendar, Christianity ceased to be a movement of “secret meetings” and became an institution capable of governing public time. Christmas, therefore, was the gateway for the Church to transition from being just another institution of the Empire to finally becoming its primary and definitive institution. The controversy over its origin is not merely about a date, but about the moment the Gospel donned the toga of Roman Law.

By: Dr. Liber Aguiar

1. Martin Luther: Christmas as a “Lesson on the Incarnation”

Martin Luther, the seminal figure of the Reformation, adopted a remarkably conservative stance regarding Christmas. His guiding principle was not to eliminate everything that “smelled Catholic,” but to preserve whatever did not directly contradict the Bible and could serve to edify the faith. Therefore, his position must be evaluated in light of the arguments available to him at the time.

For Luther, Christmas was a golden opportunity for teaching. The celebration of Jesus’ birth offered a powerful vehicle to preach the central dogma of the Incarnation: God made man for the salvation of humanity. Far from suppressing it, Luther embraced and revitalized it, encouraging family participation in the celebration. He is credited with popularizing customs such as the Christmas tree and the figure of the Christkind (the Christ Child) as a gift-bringer, seeking to displace devotion to saints like Saint Nicholas. “If Christ had not been born,” he argued, “eat we would be lost. Therefore, we celebrate his birth with joy.” For Luther and his followers, Christmas was not a “foolstide,” but a “tide of grace.”

2. John Calvin: “Indifference”

John Calvin, the influential Reformer of Geneva, represented a more austere and strict approach. His Regulative Principle of Worship established that the worship of God should only include what the Bible explicitly commanded. Since Scripture does not command the celebration of Jesus’ birthday, Calvin was, in principle, reluctant to observe feasts instituted by human tradition.

In Geneva, Christmas was initially abolished as a weekday holiday, though preaching on the birth of Christ could occur if December 25th fell on a Sunday or if civil authorities authorized it. Calvin’s stance was not so much a condemnation of Christmas as a “heresy,” but rather a practical indifference toward it. He believed that all days were equally fit to glorify God and that elevating one day above another, outside of Sunday, was a superstition. His approach sought to strip worship of everything not essentially biblical, focusing instead on the Word and prayer.

3. The Puritans and the Reformed: “Foolstide”

The opposition to Christmas reached its peak among the English Puritans, Scottish Presbyterians, and other branches of the Radical Reformation. To them, Christmas was an abomination. They bluntly labeled it “Foolstide,” a derogatory term that encapsulated their rejection.

Their arguments were forceful:

• Lack of Biblical Mandate: There is not a single mention in the Bible commanding the celebration of Jesus’ birth.

• Pagan-Catholic Origins: They viewed Christmas as an amalgam of pagan Roman festivals Christianized by the Catholic Church, making it doubly objectionable.

• Licentiousness and Excess: They denounced the “frivolous behavior, drunkenness, and gambling” associated with the celebration.

The intensity of their rejection led to the formal prohibition of Christmas:

• In Scotland, under the influence of John Knox and the Presbyterian Church, Christmas was banned by an act of Parliament in 1560. This prohibition remained in force for centuries; December 25th was not recognized as an official public holiday in Scotland until 1958.

• In England, during the period of the Commonwealth and the Protectorate (1649–1660) led by Oliver Cromwell, the Puritan Parliament abolished the celebration of Christmas in 1644. Shops were ordered to stay open and churches to close on this day; fines were even imposed for celebrating.

• In the New England colonies (United States), founded by Puritans, the celebration of Christmas was not only discouraged but illegal in places like the Massachusetts Bay Colony, where anyone caught celebrating was fined. This ban remained formally in place until 1856.

Figures like the Puritan theologian William Prynne wrote treatises denouncing Christmas as a vestige of idolatry. The irony was that, in their zeal to “purify” the faith, the Puritans were often seen as intolerant “killjoys” by much of the population.

The complex and varied response of the Reformers to Christmas illustrates the inherent tension between tradition and the search for biblical purity. While some saw it as an opportunity to evangelize, others condemned it as a dangerous “Foolstide”—a reminder and a gateway to the “superstitions” from which the Church, in their view, had to be liberated.

The modern history of the Christmas controversy is, in many ways, the history of the Reformation itself.

Author: Dr. Liber Aguiar

The Reformation is recognized as one of the most important historical events of the modern era, praised in many fields, not only religious but also political and academic. And indeed, they are not wrong.

For many, in a positive sense, they view this period as an event permitted by God Himself to liberate “the church” from the clutches of the Catholic Apostolic and Roman “empire.” In this essay, we will demonstrate that there was actually more human influence than divine, although some important steps were made regarding religious freedom, causing drastic changes within society and Catholicism itself.

It is important to note that this work does not aim for a deep or exhaustive analysis of the topic; we will only attempt to connect some lesser-known and less-evaluated points, mainly by the general Christian religious community. To carry out this analysis and outline paths to other conclusions, we will touch upon another period that influenced those centuries, the Renaissance, and finally, focus on our main topic.

As has been shown numerous times in Way UP, one of the greatest damages done to the church has been the separation of politics and religion. Similarly, when evaluating the Reformation, its supporters only consider the religious consequences without understanding that it is necessary and obligatory to extend the analysis to all possible social spheres. Because, as in all of human history, nothing happened overnight, but rather through various processes. In this sense, the Reformation also occurred as a consequence of a process that had already been brewing in Medieval Europe.

In the Middle Ages, a period historically placed after the decline of the Roman Empire and the rise of the Catholic Church, Europe experienced significant changes due to the Crusades to reconquer the Holy Land, bringing development in fundamental areas such as the economy and politics. During these military campaigns, European leaders identified a great source of income through the existing trade routes between Europe and the Mediterranean, greatly developing relations between the two regions. Although the matter is not as simple as this, and we know that there were many conflicts, such as military invasions not only by the Crusaders in the Mediterranean but also Ottoman invasions of Europe, all this contributed to a drastic change within the sociopolitical organization of Europe, feudalism. In it, the clergy and nobility held absolute control and power, but the aforementioned economic boom led to rapid growth in many social areas. With the growth of economic power, military power also increased, and with it, political power expanded, making social, political, and religious reform only a matter of time. And this is where the Renaissance comes in.

The Renaissance is usually defined as a cultural movement in Medieval Europe around the 15th century. It has been called this because it is assumed there was a rebirth of classical ideas, particularly concerning logic and reason, based mainly on the teachings of Aristotle. However, we have indications that these ideas were never completely eliminated or banned, except in the lower social strata. It is known that the University of Paris in the 13th century used Aristotle’s teachings. We have the example of Thomas Aquinas, a great Catholic teacher and philosopher who became a fundamental figure in France and Italy. These two regions would later be essential because they would give rise to two of the most influential thinkers who marked this era, namely Niccolò Machiavelli in Italy and René Descartes in France. It is therefore logical to think that Aristotelian teachings never ceased to exist in the ecclesiastical peaks of the Catholic Church. They were simply limited in their use. There is therefore a question to be asked at this point: if the Renaissance is the supposed rebirth of Aristotelian ideas, but at the same time we see that they never really stopped being present within the Catholic leadership and very possibly within the political and social peaks, what really reborn?

Before answering this question, it is important to consider other elements. Many historians position this Renaissance period from the discovery of America. This means that by this point, the development resulting from all the aforementioned factors, economic expansion, infrastructure development, and cultural growth stemming from the spread of Thomas Aquinas’ teachings on Aristotelian reason and logic, were creating a mindset that began to fragment and crack the system established for so many centuries. Inevitably, the process began that included various schisms within European society. All this would also be reflected in the technological development that in turn allowed the rapid expansion of communication and information regardless of the distances. The creation of the printing press and the growing democratization of information also helped in many ways to the independence of individuals who could now share their ideas to regions unknown to them.

Undoubtedly, these processes were exerting an influence on the common European individual never seen before. Each person now had more opportunity to be informed, to know beyond their functions, and even more, to exert some influence even if they did not hold positions defined by nobles, kings, or ecclesiastical leaders. The possibility of mass mobilization took on another level, being useful to reform any old system like feudalism, which limited the potentials that new technologies and their consequences were showing, resulting in gains for those who saw these processes as an opportunity to rise within the closed European society thanks to the purchasing power that expanded to men outside the social peak. Therefore, and trying to answer the previously posed question, we can say that what was reborn was not precisely Aristotelian ideas, but the social impulse that due to an evidently necessary and perhaps even caused “awakening” gave rise to Aristotelian teachings, creating human independence without the need to depend on clerics or nobles.

The gradual development of all these Hellenic ideas gave rise to what we know today as humanism, which in turn created all kinds of social movements. This development can be seen clearly by simply comparing the two aforementioned philosophers. Machiavelli, with his rise in the early 16th century, and Descartes in the early 17th century. Both are clear examples of this development of ideas. Let us compare only the schools of thought of both philosophers, and we can perceive the rapid evolution in ideas and the complexities that were also created in just one century. On Machiavelli’s part, we can see that he developed within classical realism and republicanism. While in the case of Descartes we have a list: rationalism, Cartesianism, mechanism, innatism, foundationalism, conceptualism, Augustinianism, indirect realism, theory of truth, theological voluntarism, among others. As we can see, the competition of ideas grew incredibly.

It is precisely in this tumultuous century marked by humanism that the religious sphere would not escape its consequences. A radical change would take place at the peak of the leading religious movement in Europe: the Catholic Apostolic and Roman Church. Now, one might think that the so-called Reformation began with Martin Luther in Germany with his 95 theses; however, it is known that several religious teachers had already exposed similar ideas much earlier. Such as John Huss and John Wycliffe. If Luther’s ideas, his courage, and bravery in posting those 95 theses in Gutenberg were what caused the diametric change, as many Protestants and evangelicals today quickly assume, why did Huss and Wycliffe not have the same “success” as Luther, being highly recognized teachers throughout Europe? The answer lies precisely in all the complexity explained so far.

This reform did not arise in any way just because Luther was a passionate and zealous person for the word of God, fervently wanting to expose the truth. He lived in an era where he knew how to use mass communication, that is, to the lower classes, while the growing humanism we talked about spontaneously did its work in those dissatisfied, mistreated, and at the same time hungry individuals who put into practice that humanist individualism of the time. Due to technology, all the political changes taking place across Europe, the growth of free thinkers, and the division of powers in all political and social spheres, Luther also saw the possibility of attacking the evident and abusive errors within the Catholic Church. This does not mean, nor am I saying, that Luther’s work was not of great merit, because even with all the moral support he might have received from the lower classes and some nobles who knew the various limitations imposed by the Catholic Church, he risked his life in it. Luther was condemned to death and rescued from his execution by an abduction by one of those nobles who supported him and knew that the change in the power of the Catholic Church was not only imminent but necessary.

Now, why did I start my essay comparing the influence of man with that of God in this whole process? Simply put, because today, four centuries later, the consequences have been that we have reached a point almost similar in the religious field to what the inhabitants of Europe lived in Luther’s time. How many deaths did the Protestant Reformation cause? How many wars between reformers and counter-reformers beyond the framework of healthy debate? How many conflicts among the same reformers that we still drag today? How many divisions were created? Did the Reformation solve the problem caused by the Catholic Church, or did it simply give many groups the opportunity to express their humanism in the way that seemed best to them in the religious sphere?

For my part, I believe, after four centuries of reaping the fruits of the Reformation, that we are very far from reaching the total reform that God really expects and wishes to influence. The Reformation, for what it was and how far it went, has been a political movement that had to happen in all social spheres due to the Renaissance and humanist boom of its time that also influenced it. Proof of this was Luther himself, who never intended to leave the ranks of Catholicism, even when he was aware of many of its inventions and the boot it placed on the heads of its parishioners, crushing them into the mud day after day, and keeping such an important region as Europe in complete obscurantism. Obscurantism that not only stayed there but extended to all continents they reached.

Today, we still live with the consequences of the Reformation. On one side, those who never accepted it but were forced to change many things within their ranks to confront that popular, strong, and democratic movement. And on the other side, those who, assuming the change, created a new Christianity that never returned to its historical and religious bases and that would ultimately be the most evident proof that they were not one hundred percent in God’s will. The latter, happy and content with the obtained freedoms, simply created another system with a little more openness, which would ultimately be one of the causes of ushering in the modern era we live in.

However, and to conclude, that famous response of Martin Luther to the question his mentor would ask him: “Do you imagine what would happen if every individual had a Bible in their hands?” Luther replied, “There would be more Christians.” Today, my opinion as a modern Christian after seeing the real situation we are in is that Luther was wrong in this, although it was a better answer than nothing for his historical context. Having more Bibles available does not produce more Christians because today they have them and do not read them or read them as they see fit. And all thanks to the humanization of ideas and, therefore, of the translations themselves. From my heart, I exhort you to take this complex issue more seriously and realistically, not to assume what is popularly said without considering all the tangled things seen here in a rather superficial way. If we were to delve into each of these points, we could really find the true path needed to walk toward the “Total Reformation Under God’s Guidance.”

Author: William Salazar

Throughout the evolution of human thought and its constant quest to understand the world, we have gone through periods of change in how we think and perceive reality. From the Renaissance to modern challenges, we have witnessed influences in philosophy, theology, and the entire Western culture. However, this journey has also confronted us with darker aspects of thought, which we could call “the assassins of reason.”

On one hand, the humanism that emerged during the Renaissance advocated for an individual-centered view and the exploration of the world from that perspective. However, by the 18th century, it began to decline, influenced mainly by the rise of relativism. This philosophical current questioned the existence of absolute truths, leading to widespread pessimism in areas such as science, philosophy, and theology. This pessimism is attributed to the absence of God in the humanist equation, which led to the search for alternative “absolutes” in an increasingly relative world. This resulted in a constant struggle for the supremacy of thought, where an elite would decide the direction of reason and the thought of the masses.

Alongside humanism, existentialism emerged, a current that places the individual at the center and bases judgment on one’s own perception or reasoning, regardless of the surrounding reality. This approach influenced movements like the hippies and Eastern religions, altering modern society’s perception of reality and its relationship with the individual. Simultaneously, part of the church, criticized for its silence in the face of the advance of humanism, seemed to remove the divine from the equation, giving rise to religious liberalism. This current reinterpreted religious teachings without considering the supernatural, favoring a society where human ethical and moral values prevailed over divine principles. This paradigmatic shift has brought with it contradictory and often illogical consequences in modern society, where each individual has their own truth, separate from the absolutes established by God and based on their own limited perspective. For example, while some vehemently defend the right of animals not to suffer, they advocate for the right to abortion, ignoring the right to life of the developing fetus. In another example, some promote the adoption of abandoned animals from the streets but feel no desire to help the homeless, treating them worse than animals.

In conclusion, the journey through the development of modern thought confronts us with these “assassins of reason,” currents of thought that have challenged our ability to discern the truth and have sown discord in society. Reflecting on this journey leads us to the task of reconciling our beliefs and values in a world where truth seems relative and reason is threatened.

Author: Mesac Mora