Posted in Library of Alexandria

The Historical Significance of BC (Before Christ) and AD (Anno Domini): A History of the Julian and Gregorian Calendars

By: Bryan Ricardo Marini Quintana

(Jean-Léon Gérôme, The Age of Augustus, the Birth of Christ, 1852-1854)

If you’ve browsed a book or two recently, you’ve likely noticed a curious detail whenever there’s a historical date. Instead of the usual BC and AD after the year, it’s been changed to BCE and CE. But what are these ‘new’ terminologies? And why are they replacing a ‘dated’ lexicon? Lately, there has been a tendency for institutions to ‘modernize’ fields such as history by replacing BC (Before Christ) and AD (Anno Domini) with a socially ‘inclusive’ BCE (Before The Common Era) and CE (The Common Era). Historians continue to challenge long-held perceptions, with their discoveries constantly shifting the academic field’s understanding of the ancient world. They’re responsible for reconstructing historical narratives that faithfully preserve the past, despite personal biases. However, texts and articles have currently opted to separate historical periods into the ‘enlightened’ BCE and CE, over the ‘traditional’ BC and AD.

Why has academia substituted Christ with the Common Era? Have scholars found a revolutionary method to measure the Earth’s Orbit? Or could this sudden revision be a modernist attempt to erase Christianity from History? Ironically, the Birth of Christ divides both periods, even though they use different terminologies. What is the point of changing the lexicon if the same historical event separates them? These questions can be answered by investigating the remarkable innovations of the Ancient Romans and Medieval Priests who designed the Julian and Gregorian Calendars, along with exploring the origins of BC and AD to determine whether BCE and CE are justified in removing this religious language. 

In 49 BC, the die was cast, and Julius Caesar Crossed the Rubicon, dragging the Roman Republic into a Civil War that would rout his rivals and usher in his rise as Dictator of Rome. During his short-lived reign, Pliny the Elder, a Roman author, narrates in his ‘Natural History’ (77 AD) that Caesar’s reforms were aimed at legitimizing his ascension, working with Sosigenes, a Greek astronomer who advised him to amend the Old Roman Calendar. While studying in the Library of Alexandria, Sosigenes deduced that the Ancient Egyptians had accurately recorded the days of the year since the Old Kingdom. Due to the cyclical flooding of the Nile River Valley, they calculated that there were an estimated 365 days a year. Once Caesar landed in Ptolemaic Egypt around 48 BC, he met Sosigenes while having an affair with Cleopatra VII. They reformed the Lunar Calendar, based on the moon’s phases, into a Solar Calendar, aligned with the Earth’s Orbit around the sun. This was the foundation for the Modern-Day Calendar, with 365.25 days a year and a leap year of 366 days every four years to stay in sync with the Earth’s Orbit. 

Macrobius, a Roman writer, recounts in ‘Saturnalia’ (431 AD) how the Old Roman Calendar was used one last time around 46 BC, during a transitional phase known as ‘The Year of Confusion.’ A momentary extension of 445 days was made for the year to adjust from a Lunar to a Solar Calendar. Then, Caesar and Sosigenes officially introduced the Julian Calendar in 45 BC. An additional 10 days and 2 months were added to the original 355 days and 10 months per year. Suddenly, the Senate conspired against their Dictator, assassinating him on March 15, 44 BC. But their coup failed, and posthumously deified Caesar under the title of ‘Divus Iulius’ (Divine Julius). And to honor his birthday, the month of ‘Quintilis’ (Fifth) was renamed ‘Julius’ (July). Amidst the chaos, Octavian triumphed as Caesar’s heir, soundly defeating the Dictator’s murderers and allies to become Caesar Augustus, the First Roman Emperor. He authorized adjustments to the Julian Calendar between 9 and 8 BC, legitimizing his predecessor’s labor. Similarly, the Senate honored the month of ‘Sextilis’ (Sixth) to ‘Augustus’ (August). Nevertheless, a slight miscalculation led to an inaccuracy in the Julian Calendar, causing a gradual drift from 45 BC to 1582 AD.

Since the Republic, Roman historians such as Livy based the dating system in ‘Ad Urbe Condita’ (27-9 BC) around whichever two men held office as consuls in the Senate, naming the year after them. Thereafter, regnal years gained popularity, bearing the name of the current Emperor. Alternatively, the calendar was measured with ‘Ad Urbe Condita’ (From the Founding of the City), counting years since Romulus founded Rome in 753 BC. During Emperor Diocletian’s Tetrarchy (293-305 AD), the reign of the four emperors was known as the Diocletian Era, Latin for “Anno Diocletiani” (The Year of Diocletian). These years were characterized by the ‘Diocletianic Persecution’ of Christians, with the Coptic Church of Alexandria calling it instead the ‘Era of Martyrs.’ Once Diocletian stepped down, Constantine emerged victorious from the Civil Wars of the Tetrarchy (306-324 AD), reunifying a fractured Roman Empire. Upon the eve of Battle at the Milvian Bridge, he received a vision of Christ’s Cross. And in the Lord’s Sign, Emperor Constantine conquered, legalizing Christianity. Furthermore, the Edict of Milan (313 AD) granted religious freedom to Christians, while the Council of Nicaea (325 AD) affirmed the Divinity of Christ, thereby ending centuries of brutal oppression. 

Afterward, Dionysius Exiguus of Alexandria, a translator and astronomer, used the Julian Calendar in the 6th century as a framework to create a new system for numbering years. In 525 AD, the Christian Monk published his ‘Liber de Paschate Praefatio’ (Book on Easter Reckoning), introducing the concept of a Christian Era based around the Incarnation of Jesus Christ. This replaced the heretical ‘Era of Martyrs’ with ‘Anno Domini nostri Jesu Christi’ (In the Year of Our Lord Jesus Christ). Later on, Saint Bede, an English Monk, wrote the ‘Ecclesiastical History of the People of England’ in 731 AD. The medieval manuscript narrated events from Roman to Anglo-Saxon Britain, tracing the chronicles of the Early Church. Essentially, this historian and theologian documented Britain’s history with the popularized use of ‘Ante Christi natum’ (Before the Birth of Christ). Through these Monks, the consular years, regnal years, and ‘Ad Urbe Condita’ were rechristened to record historical periods before and after the Incarnation of ‘Jesu Christi.’

Over the centuries, Christian Festivals fell out of season due to a miscalculation traced back to Sosigenes and Caesar, who erroneously assumed that the solar year had 365.25 days. In reality, Earth’s Orbit around the sun takes 365.2564 days, which may seem like a minor slip-up if it weren’t for the millennium that had come and gone, misaligning the seasons. The Old Julian Calendar’s seasonal dates had regressed by roughly a day every century. Next, Aloysius Lilius, an Italian astronomer, chronologist, and philosopher, proposed in 1577 a reformation with his ‘Compendium novae rationis restituendi kalendarium’ (Compendium of a New Plan for the Restitution of the Calendar). He counseled that the ‘Leap Year Rule’ had to be modified to align the seasons with the solar year precisely. Previously, a leap year added an extra day to the Old Julian Calendar every four years to account for the quarter of a day that had accumulated over the last three years. His proposition revised the principle that every year divisible by four was considered a leap year. Instead, Aloysius Lilius engineered a dating system in which century years ending in ‘00’ would not be considered leap years unless they were divisible by 400. For example, 800 AD would be a leap year, but centuries like 500-700 AD could not qualify. These modifications ensured that the New Calendar would remain synchronized alongside the seasons, with 97 leap years every 400 years. 

All of this previous research prompted Pope Gregory XIII to announce the papal bull ‘Inter gravissimas’ (In the gravest concerns) on February 24, 1582, calling for the reformation of the Old Julian Calendar. Back in 1579, Christopher Clavius, a German mathematician and astronomer, began implementing this commission with the Gregorian Calendar. He built upon Aloysius Lilius’ work and refined the ‘Leap Year Rule,’ discovering a discrepancy of 10 days caused by the Previous Calendar’s gradual drift. To properly align the New Calendar with the Solar Year, Pope Gregory XIII decreed that, after October 5th, 1582, the following day would be the 15th. Each contribution was made by Jesuit Priests who addressed the realignment of the calendar while honoring the legacy of their ancestors, preserving the months of July and August, alongside the traditional use of BC and AD.

This raises the central question: Why has academia substituted the terminology of BC and AD with BCE and CE, if they’re both divided by the Birth of Christ? Have scholars developed innovative measurements for the Earth’s Orbit? Or is the postmodernist lens deconstructing ancient traditions by rephrasing the cultural memory of the past? Basically, BCE and CE stand for ‘Before the Common Era’ and ‘Common Era,’ coining a new lexicon that removes Christianity from History through a secular approach to separate these periods. The intent is to adopt a non-biased stance when conducting scholarly research, setting aside a dating system that is associated with a religious figure (Jesus Christ) to maintain academic neutrality. However, this is done at the expense of taking away recognition from Christian Monks and Jesuit Priests who wrote historical records and accurately calculated the Earth’s Orbit. If the argument is about objectivity in the field, why do July and August still have the names of the Caesars? Wouldn’t their persistent use expose political favoritism with the Roman Senate, a Dictator, or an Emperor? This is, of course, a ludicrous statement, since Rome fell in 476 AD, more than 1,500 years ago, and its governmental institutions have lost all relevance. Nevertheless, the names of Julius and Augustus have remained intact for these months, without any controversy, recognizing their roles in reforming the Julian Calendar. 

On another note, there’s a case to be made for the pagan origins of the days of the week that trace back to Greco-Roman and Norse-Germanic Mythology. In Dio Cassius’ ‘Historia Romana’ (233 AD), the historian discusses the Roman Planetary Week, with each day named after a celestial body that represented a god. Sunday and Monday were ‘Sol’ (Sun) and ‘Luna’ (Moon), while Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday were Mars, Mercury, Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn. But these were replaced by the Norse-Germanic Peoples, with Snorri’s ‘Edda’ (1220 AD) narrating a body of myths and legends that includes names of the week, which were changed to reflect their traditional beliefs. Thus, ‘Sól’s day’ and ‘Mani’s day’ became Sunday and Monday, while Tyr’s day, Wotan’s (Odin’s) day, Thor’s day, and Freyja’s day became Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday. All save one Roman god lingered on as Saturn’s day (Saturday). Although academia has replaced BC and AD to preserve ‘academic integrity’ on the issue of Jesus Christ, none of these pagan gods have been scrutinized, posing questions about whether there’s a double standard in a dating system that also, ironically, uses religious figures for the days of the week. 

The Legacy of the Ancient Romans and Medieval Priests still lives on in the Modern-Day Calendar, with their contributions ranging from Sosigenes’ designs, Caesar’s and Augustus’ implementations, to Saint Dionysius’ and Bede’s transcriptions, alongside Aloysius Lilius’ and Christopher Clavius’ calculations that cemented the traditional use of BC and AD. Unlike the achievements mentioned above, no subsequent scholar has proposed a ‘modern’ revision of the Calendar that offers a groundbreaking discovery. Regrettably, the historical figure of Jesus Christ has been subjected to constant critical examination. Meanwhile, July and August continue to honor the Ancient Romans, while the days of the week sustain the cultural memory of the Old Norse gods. Throughout antiquity, individuals such as Abraham, Alexander, and Augustus left their mark on history, with the Patriarchal Age, the Hellenistic Period, and the Augustan Age, which were named after them due to their defining roles. Undoubtedly, Jesus Christ had a profound cultural impact on the world with his Birth, Preachings, Miracles, Crucifixion, and Resurrection. The Messiah’s Disciples spread the Gospel that Converted the Roman World, stretching across Europe, Africa, and Asia, from Paganism to Christianity. His Teachings shaped Western Civilization, influencing its history, philosophy, laws, values, and art. Both the Ancient Romans and Medieval Priests merit equal recognition for their achievements in preserving historical accounts and constructing the Modern-Day Calendar. They composed the Julian and Gregorian Calendars around a dating system that represented their Faith in Christ with ‘Ante Christi natum’ and ‘Anno Domini nostri Jesu Christi’ through the fields of astronomy, mathematics, theology, and history. Ultimately, the issue of whether BCE and CE are justified in replacing this religious language can be answered with a simple question. What pivotal event divides BCE and CE? Nothing less than the Incarnation of the Lord ‘Jesu Christi.’

Posted in Library of Alexandria, Marcus Aurelius' Meditations

Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations III

By: Bryan Ricardo Marini Quintana

Moreover, Meditations harkens back to the philosophy of the Socratics with Epictetus’ teachings on the principles of moral virtue. Here, the Emperor contemplated how to discover his spiritual voice and speak with his “dæmon” to live in agreement with the universal nature. This brought Marcus Aurelius in contact with divine counsel, as the “logos” advised him to pursue what was meaningful and avoid distractions. Among these troubles, he warned himself against chasing after worldly desires and bursting out in fits of anger. Marcus Aurelius voiced this struggle to care for one’s soul by controlling his impulses when he conveyed: “Repentance is a kind of self-reproof for having neglected something useful; but that which is good must be something useful, and the perfect good man should look after it. But no such man would ever repent of having refused any sensual pleasure. Pleasure then is neither good nor useful.” (Meditations 75)

Then, the Emperor reasoned that he must balance his spirit and the universal law governing outer events, including the unpredictable nature of confronting pain. Since he had no influence over his surroundings, Marcus Aurelius pondered how he could endure an unfavorable outcome and accept the experience with a calm posture. To resolve this dilemma, he argued that the harmful deeds of others didn’t impact his nature; instead, the Emperor’s response to this injury defined his character. Marcus Aurelius displayed his resolve to stomach hardship when he articulated: “For he who yields to pain and he who yields to anger, both are wounded and both submit.” (Meditations 118) Often, the Emperor grasped that his mind’s outlook on a problem was potent enough to alleviate or increase his wound’s anguish. Only by learning to control how he perceived a harmful occurrence could he gain inner peace with his “dæmon” and “logos” instead of falling into distress. Accordingly, Marcus Aurelius sought a balance with the universal nature, understanding he held no power over his environment but only how he responded by reflecting: “Wipe out thy imagination by often saying to thyself: now it is in my power to let no badness be in this soul, nor desire, nor any perturbation at all; but looking at all things I see what is their nature, and I use each according to its value. Remember this power which thou hast from nature.” (Meditations 79)

Afterward, the Emperor discussed that a pivotal lesson of Stoicism is that happiness becomes the responsibility of every individual, with the quality of his thoughts shaping a man’s attitude. Consequently, his surroundings can deal a good or bad hand regardless of one’s character. However, Marcus Aurelius didn’t hold himself answerable for the world’s nature but was only accountable for his reaction when facing tragedy by contemplating: “If thou art pained by any external thing, it is not this that disturbs thee, but thy own judgment about it. And it is in thy power to wipe out this judgment now.” (Meditations 82) Therefore, the Emperor understood that he could revoke the notion of whatever disturbed his harmony, exercising power over his mind’s opinion about that which troubled him. 

Overall, Meditations records Marcus Aurelius’ personal reflections on how to lead a virtuous life in accordance with the teachings of Stoic Philosophy. Throughout his reign, he relished a life of luxuries fit for a Roman Emperor. He was free to abuse his authority with prideful ambitions that would’ve seen him indulge in every vice, from fleeting pleasure to spewing anger. Nevertheless, he chose to rule Rome’s powerful economic and military force under the beliefs of Stoicism. In his daily life, Marcus Aurelius practiced humility, patience, and gratitude when addressing the challenging predicaments of upholding his character or the numerous crises faced by the Roman Empire. Above all, the Emperor consulted his “dæmon” or “logos” for spiritual guidance and divine wisdom to contemplate the principles of universal change while leading a life of moral virtue. Hence, Meditations serves as the archetypal work of Stoic Philosophy that preserves Marcus Aurelius’ implicit teachings on how to practice wisdom, justice, fortitude, and moderation to master the self, as the Roman Emperor’s pursuit to live righteously in accordance with nature while building a relationship with his innermost soul immortalized him for generations of readers as the Philosopher-King from the Greco-Roman World.

Posted in Library of Alexandria, Marcus Aurelius' Meditations

Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations II

By: Bryan Ricardo Marini Quintana

In Meditations, the Emperor reflected on how to lead a virtuous life in accordance with four chief virtues that allow a man to live in harmony with nature. These are categorized into wisdom, justice, fortitude, and moderation. Throughout the text, Marcus Aurelius explored how to deduce a man’s character based on his moral or immoral behavior by declaring: “If it is not right, do not do it: if it is not true, do not say it.” (Meditations 126) Alongside, he pondered how everyone is destined to receive his rightful due and should be prepared to face the consequences of his actions. Next, the Emperor contemplated the importance of persevering amidst the constant toiling and suffering that must be tolerated in life. Finally, Marcus Aurelius remarked on how to live in utter simplicity by employing self-discipline toward the proclivity for earthly desires. 

A critical teaching reverberating in Meditations is the mastery of the self, with the Emperor expressing a need to conquer his emotions. Here, he observed that one must learn to overcome his fits of passion or risk falling into an adrenaline rush of poor decision-making. From this philosophical thought, Marcus Aurelius affirmed: “Be thou erect, or be made erect.” (Meditations 63) Only by gaining control over his impulses, could he learn to live judiciously and purposely. Although Marcus Aurelius would experience pleasure, anger, grief, despair, temptation, and pain, these would not influence his reaction to outer events. By subduing his emotions, the Emperor maintained the ruling faculties that defined his character, leading to a more fulfilling human experience by finding happiness through a stable life of inner peace. Another personal reflection of Marcus Aurelius clarified this when he said: “Whatever anyone does or says, I must be good, just as if the gold, or the emerald, or the purple were saying this: Whatever anyone does or says, I must be emerald and keep my colour.” (Meditations 63)

Furthermore, the Emperor echoed the philosophy of the Pre-Socratics with Heraclitus’ teachings on the world’s nature and the principle of universal change. Firstly, he wondered why men should fear transformation when this is a natural stage of maturity between an individual and his environment. Both require alteration to uncover their true visage, meaning that for a garden to bloom in the spring, one must risk its withering in the fall. When speaking of change, Marcus Aurelius ruminated: “Is any man afraid of change? Why, what can take place without change? What then is more pleasing and more suitable to the universal nature?” (Meditations 64)

Alongside, the Emperor deduced the finite scope of human life and how insignificant it is to desire marble monuments in one’s name when none will be there to remember. He reasoned that everyone is destined to perish due to the nature of men, governed by the universal law of transformation. However, some seek to be immortalized with a vainglorious recollection of themselves, appealing to the adoring masses for their deeds to live on through them. Nevertheless, he concluded that this proud act to achieve immortality beyond death is not worth pursuing due to the far-reaching and ever-stretching sands of time that sooner or later wipe out the prideful from all memory. When examining the fate of mortals and their eventual fading from history, Marcus Aurelius expressed: “For all things soon pass away and become a mere tale, and complete oblivion soon buries them. And I say this for those who have shone in a wondrous way. For the rest, as soon as they have breathed out their breath, they are gone, and no man speaks of them. And to conclude the matter, what is even an eternal remembrance? A mere nothing.” (Meditations 31)

Posted in Library of Alexandria, Marcus Aurelius' Meditations

Marcus Aurelius’ Meditations I

By: Bryan Ricardo Marini Quintana

Meditations is a compendium of Marcus Aurelius’ (121-180 AD) personal reflections, which the Roman Emperor originally wrote to consult and exercise the old wisdom of the Stoics. A Hellenistic philosopher named Zeno (335-256 BC) founded the School of Stoicism, observing that a universal reason governs life, and everyone should strive to live righteously in agreement with it. These Stoics originated in the Greco-Roman World, whose ancient culture instructed individuals to pursue a virtuous life by mastering the self. When facing adversity or despair, Stoicism advised the practice of humility, patience, and gratitude to combat impulsive passions that drive prideful men to lust or wrath. Instead, Stoics counseled communion with the “dæmon” or “logos” within every man’s innermost soul, learning how to discover spiritual guidance and reflect on divine wisdom in accordance with nature. Although Marcus Aurelius recorded his philosophical thoughts to contemplate the principles of Stoicism in private, he never intended to publish his text for public consumption. Therefore, Meditations cannot be approached as an autobiographical work with detailed accounts of his life; rather, it’s a handbook that helped him bond with his “dæmon” or “logos” while training in personal reflections on how to lead a life of virtue.

From an early age, the Emperor relished a life of commodities by benefiting from relatives who held positions of high esteem among the powerful families that influenced the socio-political structure of Rome. Later on, Marcus Aurelius would come into the line of succession when Emperor Hadrian (76-138 AD) named his uncle, Antoninus Pius (86-161 AD), his sole heir. In turn, he adopted Marcus Aurelius and his brother Lucius Verus (130-169 AD) to become joint Emperors upon his passing. From Augustus’ rise to power as the first Caesar (63 BC-14 AD) until Marcus Aurelius’ reign as a successor of the Nerva-Antonine Dynasty, the Roman Empire experienced 200 years of Roman Peace known as the “Pax-Romana” (27 BC-180 AD). During these two centuries, Rome flourished economically and culturally, with massive funds for public works that displayed the splendor of these Emperors with the building of roads, arches, walls, temples, palaces, theaters, and cities. Upon assuming the throne, Marcus Aurelius inherited a prosperous Roman Empire ruled in succession by Nerva (20-98 AD), Trajan (53-117 AD), Hadrian, and Pius, who became venerated as The Five Good Emperors.

During his rule, Marcus Aurelius faced various crises that tested his capabilities to administrate the Roman Empire. Among these was the rapid conversion of Christians across the eastern provinces, whose persecution continued from his predecessors under his rule. Furthermore, the Emperor came into conflict with the Parthian Empire in the Roman-Parthian War (161-166 AD), which brought military victory but at the cost of spreading back home the Antonine Plague (165-190 AD). Moreover, a series of clashes ensued with the Germanic Tribes across the Danube River in the Marcomannic Wars (166-180 AD). During his campaigns in the Roman Frontier, Marcus Aurelius began writing Meditations amidst a violent struggle that consumed much of his life, with the triumphant aftermath exposing vital weaknesses in Rome’s northern border. 

In his education, the Emperor studied the ideas of Socrates (470-399 BC), Plato (428/427-348/347 BC), and Aristotle (384-322 BC). The Fathers of Philosophy introduced him to the concepts of caring for one’s soul, the link between a physical and celestial realm, and how to lead a life of moral virtue. However, the most influential teachings came from Pre-Socratic philosopher Heraclitus (540-480 BC) and Socratic philosopher Epictetus (55-135 AD). On one side, the Pre-Socratics, preceding Socrates, were concerned with how the world’s nature becomes entwined with man. This is illustrated by Heraclitus, who believed that the principle of the universe is a constant state of change, where life is an ever-flowing stream. Subsequently, transformation isn’t only a necessity for men and their surroundings, but it’s also a natural alteration. The philosopher understood this as a universal law of birth, growth, climax, decay, and death. Among the philosophical thoughts of Heraclitus, the expression that encapsulates his outlook is: “No man ever steps in the same river twice. For it’s not the same river and he’s not the same man.” (The Fragments of Heraclitus) 

Meanwhile, the Socratics, succeeding Socrates, were fixated on the principles of moral virtue by observing how human behavior and notions lead to a noble or depraved life. This is exemplified by Epictetus, who argued that individuals should be held accountable for their conduct, learning to evaluate and regulate themselves. However, the philosopher discussed that, likewise, they cannot dictate the outcome of external circumstances, meaning that these should be embraced with a peaceful attitude to be righteous decision-makers. From Epictetus, a philosophical saying that captures his conviction is: “Circumstances don’t make the man; they merely reveal him to himself.” (The Discourses of Epictetus) Both philosophers, Heraclitus and Epictetus, are mentioned throughout Meditations, with Marcus Aurelius recalling their wisdom when pondering on concepts such as the “dæmon” or “logos” alongside their relation to the universal law and moral virtue.