
With the year 2000 fast approaching, look for Bible believers to start beating the drums about Christ's 2,000th birthday. It is more than a little surprising that we haven't already heard much about big plans for this event, considering that Christians go nuts every year over Christmas, stretching the festivities out for weeks. Some Christian fringe groups have already begun to hype the end of the second millennium. In an Associated Press story in March, 1993, Ted Daniels, a cult researcher from Philadelphia, said a few Christian groups are taking the approaching turn of the millennium seriously, and might even be dangerous. "The idea is clearly hot," Daniels said. "It's going to get increasingly important as the century winds down. I hope to God it's not violent." Christian end-of-the-world fantasies have led to more than a few disasters in the past couple thousand years.
Despite the possibility of major Christian shenanigans upon the
turn of the century, don't reserve that hotel room in Nepal just
yet. Christians are just as confused and divided about the significance
of the year 2,000 as they are about any other theological issue,
thus defusing any sharp buildup of irrationalism. Religion is
self-regulating in this way, with its goofiest ideas somehow collapsing
of their own weight before they actually succeed in destroying
the planet - so far, anyway. In this case, fanaticism is being
held in check by the fog of ignorance surrounding the precise
date of the second thousandth anniversary of Christ's supposed
birth. This should be a milestone of no little significance to
Christians. At the end of the first thousand years a good many
European Christians decided it would be an oportune time to grab some
Palestinian real estate, so as to have a ringside seat for Christ's
return and the accompanying spectacle - you know, all that Book
of Revelations stuff. This marked the beginning of the Crusades,
a farcical series of intrigue, fraud, thievery, and madcap military
misadventures that lasted for hundreds of years. Aside from that
distinctly unholy event, nothing much happened at the end of the
first millennium, so we can reasonably expect observances to be
substantially subdued this time. If JC does pop in for his own
bimillennial celebration, freethinkers should not ignore certain
opportunities such an event would pose. I, for example, plan to
corner the T-shirt and tour jacket concession, marketing attire
which proudly proclaims:

The business potential is considerable, especially since it's inconceivable that Jesus would bother to collect any royalties - no, make that "deities."
But how do you go about planning the anniversary of an event when you can't figure out when the event actually happened?
To start with, the year of Christ's birth was miscalculated when our current calendar was created. The intent was that the year in which Christ was born was to be designated Year One. Unfortunately, even after all the trouble that went into the new calendar, later scholarship proved it to be, like most religious stuff, the product of flawed thinking. If Biblical accounts were correct and Christ was born during the rule of Herod (assuming he was born at all), the birth could not have been any later than 4 B.C.E. (Before Current Era), the year in which we now know King Herod kicked the breathing habit.
Given that the best minds in Christendom can't figure out even the year of Christ's birth, the biggest event in their history, it is hardly surprising that the most rabid Christians will generally admit that the date December 25 represents merely a convention. There are various theories why Jesus and other gods, god-like characters and legendary good guys were said to be born on December 25, but the "computational hypothesis" has gained considerable standing among scholars. Since gods do things, even stuff like being born and croaking, in a neat and orderly fashion, early Christians figured that Jesus would have arranged his death so that he was on the planet for a whole number of years. Apparently even gods like to keep the math simple. Since they "knew" that he died on March 25, based on the Jewish Passover cycle, he must have been conceived on the same date, which also happens to be the spring equinox. Counting ahead nine months put the birthday smack dab on December 25.
A nice theory, if you don't stop to think that when Jesus died, he didn't really, and, by Christian accounts, came back to haunt his friends for some time, moping around with a gaping wound in his side and no doubt attracting flies. Why this didn't send a large part of the populace off into the hills screaming like extras in a George Romero movie remains one of the great Christian mysteries.
To add to the confusion, the year 2000 does not represent what most people think. The current calendar assumes Jesus was born in the year 1 C.E. Everybody but computer nerds begins counting with the number one, not zero. Since nerds had not yet invented the computer and thereby seized control of society, the first year of the calendar was determined to be Year One rather than Year Zero. Besides, it just wouldn't look right if Christ was born in Year Nothing. People might get the wrong impression. JC was first in every category, this was the first coming, and there was but one God (with three parts, but let's not get into that), so it was only natural that he be born in the first year, and that year should be Year One.
The only real problem with starting the calendar with Year One rather than Year Zero is that you don't complete each millennium at the conclusion of years ending in 999. Instead, Christians will all have to wait one more year. This seems all wrong, and is certain to fragment and disorganize the thrust of millennialists. The confusion is apparent in Prince's song "1999," which includes the line "I'm going to party like it's 1999." Ignoring for a moment the dating problems already mentioned, this line should really say "I'm going to party like it's 2000." Not catchy, but mathematically more accurate. Of course, if Jesus was born in the year 7 B.C.E., as some have speculated, then he already turned 2,000 years old in - uh-oh - 1994!
So how should we advise our Christian friends who are concerned about the possible return of their lord and savior? I above all urge freethinkers not to miss this a once-in-a-thousand-years opportunity to do some debunking of Christian myths. But, if you tire of this, just look them in the eyes and say, "Whether he comes or not, just make sure he wears a condom."
Copyright 1998 by Patrick Inniss. All rights
reserved.