Jesus Calendar

What is a Christmas calendar?

The one I’ve written is a book with 26 short texts for adults that can be read from the day before the first Sunday of Advent until December 25.

What will it be used for?

It’s like an existential year in review. Each small chapter carries a question about the life you have lived in the past year and the year you are about to enter.

Should it be read alone?

I thought it would be good to talk about with others, but some years you might read it alone, other years with others.

Is it all about Jesus?

No, it’s called the Jesus Calendar because it’s his birthday, but that day can also be seen as our own birthday. After all, we were born once too.

Are there any baking recipes?

Yes, my two favorite recipes are included.

The Christmas calendar is available in all bookstores for DKK 130 and directly from the publisher Eksistensen at https://www.eksistensen.dk/jesuskalender.html

It’s 120 pages long, beautifully bound, pretty and Christmassy, and suitable to be displayed year after year.

Can’t wait?

Then read the introduction here:

“The splinter is stuck in the finger. It always happens. When it’s time to take the last step on the attic stairs and your hand has to grip the unplaned floor under the roof, a small piece of wood bores into your finger. As if to give you a break to breathe in the scent. The smell similar to the smell in grandma’s play loft with the long shelves under the sloping walls with the fire engine, the picture lottery, the puppet kitchen with pots and pans in enamel, tiny.

Christmas stretches time together. A year between each Christmas. A month of waiting. The calendars ensure that memories inexorably take up space in everyone’s mind. Everyone reacts to Christmas, whether they like it or not. It’s coming, no matter what. What’s that smell in my attic? Year? Memories? Eternity? 7 6

The light from the ceiling lamp above me makes it possible to pull the splinter out with my teeth and step onto the rough floor with concentration and look down along the underside of the tiled roof in the long room. Everything in the corner behind the stairs is untouched. One day the bags with his clothes will be opened. One day. Today the boxes of Christmas are opened. Every little thing carries a big story about traditions and roots and rituals and religion. The Advent wreath of straw to be tied with fir. The five cardboard angels for the bay window panes. The little wooden horse holding Christmas cards. The ones that haven’t been written in this house since my boy left this world at Christmas. But, where is the star? The one that should be hanging in the big window. It’s not there. It’s missing. There is so much missing. Too much that has become memories.

Grief and overbalance almost cause me to stumble down the stairs. My mother-in-law’s embroidered gift calendar for her grandson is about to fall out of the basket. I wonder if the son, who is now a father, will remember it? What do we really remember about Christmas? About Christmas? What is Christmas? A birthday, yes, but for whom? Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah, the child. He was in the manger, but still alive, they say. He is the most famous man in the world and has meaning for everyone, whether they believe or not, and his celebration is awaited at least for the 24 days of a Christmas calendar. Each day has its set of questions that provoke conversation. Maybe with myself. Not as homework or facts or facts, not quotes from the wise, just wondering about Christmas in my everyday life, which is like so many others. Maybe it can be given as a gift to all those who would like to share the gift of wonder as Christmas approaches. Maybe just a reminder to myself. A daily wish for a happy advent.”