A Biblical Framework for Honoring the Seasons The celebration of June 24—the Nativity of St. John the Baptist—has endured across many ages and cultures. While some have tied it to solstice traditions or misunderstood it through the lens of paganism, Scripture offers a far deeper vision. As Psalm 19 says, “The heavens declare the glory of God… their line has gone out through all the earth,” and it speaks of the “tabernacle for the sun… whose circuit is to the end of it, and there is nothing hidden from its heat.” All humanity, in every culture, has been impacted by the rhythms of light, growth, and season. But in Christ, the true Light, we find fulfillment of what these patterns were meant to reveal.
The Apostle Paul wrote: “One man esteemeth one day above another; another esteemeth every day alike. Let every man be fully persuaded in his own mind. He that regardeth the day, regardeth it unto the Lord.” (Romans 14:5–6). This reminds us that when we sanctify a day to honor Christ, even one formerly used by the nations, we fulfill God’s promise: “You will no longer call me Baal [Lord], but you will call me Ishi [My Husband].” (Hosea 2:16). Days that once bore pagan names now rightly glorify the Creator and Redeemer. Thus, the Christian calendar reclaims the world’s times and seasons, turning the old paths into holy ones.
Introduction: As June 24 approaches—a day long observed by Christian communities in Celtic lands as the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist—we are reminded of the deep biblical and agrarian rhythms that underlie our calendar and traditions. While often associated with the summer solstice and its longest daylight, this day need not be viewed in any pagan sense. Rather, it continues a long line of holy observances rooted in Scripture and the cycles of creation. Both the ancient Hebrews and the early Christians were attentive to the seasons, not for superstition, but for stewardship and thanksgiving.
In biblical times, the Hebrews marked time through sacred festivals, many of which were tied to harvests and signs in the heavens. Scripture often speaks of celebrating the increase of grain, wine, and oil as part of covenantal blessing. As it says in Romans 14:5–6, “One man esteemeth one day above another… he that regardeth the day, regardeth it unto the Lord.” In this spirit, Christian observances such as Saint John’s Day allow us to give thanks for the light, for the earth’s increase, and for the One who baptizes with Holy Fire. In light of our church’s recent blessing of holy water during Easter (which this year aligned with the High Holy Day of Unleavened Bread), it’s timely to reflect on how fire and water traditions were reconciled through Christian liturgical history, particularly by Saint Patrick. As we approach June 24, many overlook one of the most profound and ancient Christianized traditions tied to this season: the Fire Day, associated with Saint John the Baptist and the redirected pagan fire customs of Ireland.
📅 Observing Time “Unto the Lord” Just as Jews observed Tekufot (spring and autumn equinoxes; summer and winter solstices), and confirmed new moons to maintain Passover’s timing, early Christians—citing the Didascalia Apostolorum—consulted with Jewish methods “to carefully observe the equinox and the days to the new moon” and avoid duplicating Passover within one year. These markers were not pagan; they were divine signals embedded in creation. By sanctifying June 24 (linked symbolically to Christ as the true Sun) we join a sacred heritage that respects the heavenly appointed times, while firmly reorienting them around the Gospel.
Jewish tradition, as seen in rabbinic laws, also maintained strict rules around the lighting of Sabbath and festival lights—candles lit by the woman of the house before sundown, signaling sanctification of time. While the household fire was never to go out, when it did, it was customary in some communities to request a new flame from a neighbor, ideally one who had preserved the holy fire. Though explicit records of Jews carrying fire from the Temple altar to their homes during Passover are sparse, it is likely that priestly homes or those near Jerusalem revered the altar fire as preeminent. Given Paul’s allusion in Hebrews 13:10—“We have an altar, whereof they have no right to eat which serve the tabernacle”—we may infer that the Christian fire, begun anew at Easter and preserved in Orthodox rites, is viewed as a direct continuation of this holy tradition.
In this spirit, Eastern Orthodox Christians to this day gather new fire from the Holy Sepulchre in Jerusalem on Easter Eve, spreading it through Christendom as a sacred light. Anglican and Celtic Rite Orthodox also begin their Easter fires with special liturgy, recalling the Paschal Light from Christ’s Resurrection. In Ireland, tradition held that if a family’s fire went out during the St. John’s Festival, they would go to the priest to receive a new flame—demonstrating that fire was handled under priestly supervision as part of sacred observance.
Fire of Purification in Hebrew and Christian Tradition In Hebrew rites, fire was central to purification: the Passover lamb was to be roasted by fire (Exodus 12:8–9), the altar fire was never to be extinguished (Leviticus 6:13), and all remaining bones of the lamb were burned by morning (Exodus 12:10). The ashes of the red heifer were used to cleanse those made unclean (Numbers 19:9, 17), a practice affirmed in Hebrews 9:13: “If the ashes of a heifer sprinkling the unclean sanctifieth to the purifying of the flesh…”—even upheld by St. Paul as a continuing spiritual type. The fire on the altar represented God’s presence and sanctification, and in Isaiah 6:6–7, a seraph touches the prophet’s lips with a live coal from the altar, declaring his sins purged. Orthodox liturgy preserves this symbolism: communion is connected to fire and light, as Christ is the fiery coal, sanctifying what it touches.
[Malachi 1:11 states: “From the rising of the sun to its setting, My name will be great among the nations… and in every place incense shall be offered to My name, and a pure offering.”]
In the early Eucharistic prayers found in the Didache, a lost verse preserved by some traditions such as St. Andrew’s OCC gives thanks: “We give You thanks, O God… for the flagrancy [burning aroma] of the ointment, and for the life eternal which You have made known to us by Your Son Jesus.” This evokes both incense and burning sacrificial offerings—elements found in temple worship and early Christian agape feasts. Likewise, the tradition of boiling water added to communion in the East (fervor) symbolizes the fire of the Holy Spirit. These rites are rooted not in superstition, but deep theological meaning.
Hebrews 10:22 adds, “Let us draw near… having our hearts sprinkled from an evil conscience,” a phrase often interpreted as referring to water, but likely recalling the broader purifications by hyssop—blood, water, and ashes—all types fulfilled in Christ. This greater context helps us understand that the fire rites around St. John’s Day need not scandalize, but can catechize. Rather than drive people away by unfamiliar traditions, we should teach that these are ancient symbols fulfilled in Christ, the one who baptizes “with the Holy Ghost and with fire.”
The Fire of Slane and the Paschal Victory Saint Patrick famously defied the pagan kings of Ireland by lighting the Easter fire on the Hill of Slane during the festival of Beltane. While this has often been compared with pagan fire festivals, it is more accurately understood in continuity with the Hebrew tradition of fire during the Feast of Unleavened Bread. In ancient Israel, all leaven was burned in fire before Passover (Exodus 12:15), and the Passover lambs were roasted with fire, not boiled (Exodus 12:8–9). The Temple sacrifices were consumed by fire, and Leviticus 6:13 commands that the altar flame should never go out. These sacred fire practices point to a holy purification and presence, not paganism.
This tradition may have come to Ireland not through druidism, but through the prophet Jeremiah himself, who, according to numerous historical and genealogical sources, came to the Isles with his scribe Baruch around 500 BC. Fulfilling God’s command to go to the “north and west” (Jeremiah 1:10; 31:10), Jeremiah brought with him the Judean King’s daughters—descendants of the royal line of David—as well as the sacred objects of the Temple. The uniting of the Pharez and Zarah branches of Judah was fulfilled in Ireland through Princess Tea Tephi, joining prophetic destiny with the people already dwelling in the land. This tradition is echoed in the history of the British royal throne, which claims continuity from David’s house through the Stone of Scone. Thus, the lighting of sacred fires in Ireland during Easter is more consistent with Hebrew rites brought by the prophet of God than with superstitious paganism. In fact, many scholars and Christian historians—such as E. Raymond Capt and others whose works we publish and promote at OCC—have demonstrated that the earlier form of Druidism in Ireland and Britain was not idolatrous, but rather a purer continuation of Hebrew religion. These ancient Druids were keepers of sacred traditions, laws, and calendars that reflect deep parallels to the Law of Moses and the prophetic schools of Israel. Rather than being opposed to biblical tradition, the original Druidic order appears to have preserved elements of the Hebrew faith until it was fulfilled and clarified through the Gospel.
Transferring the Fire Feast: From May Day to June 24th As recorded by James Bonwick in his work Irish Druids and Old Irish Religions (p. 202), Saint Patrick is credited with skillfully transferring the major pagan fire feast of Beltane (May 1) to June 24, the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist. Bonwick, though sympathetic to the pagan traditions, admits that Patrick was able to overcome druidic influence and supplant the fire rites with a Christian feast.
June 24 is the Celtic Midsummer Day, or summer solstice—the longest day of the year—and was previously observed with bonfires, blessings, and fertility rites across Celtic regions. The Feast of Saint John the Baptist is still celebrated in this way throughout the Celtic lands to this day, including in Ireland, Scotland, and Brittany, where the midsummer fires remain a living tradition. By anchoring this observance to the birth of John the Baptist—the forerunner of Christ who baptized with water, while Christ baptized with fire (cf. Matt. 3:11)—Patrick maintained cultural continuity while infusing it with Christian meaning.
Furthermore, the Gospel of John provides a theological key to the date: “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30). After June 24, the days begin to shorten, reflecting John’s humility and fading, while the days after December 25 begin to lengthen, symbolizing Christ’s increase. This cosmic liturgical alignment made June 24 not only a cultural but also a deeply symbolic choice for the feast.
Fire and Water: Christian Rites of Purification The blessing of holy water during Easter, as practiced in our church this year on the Feast of Unleavened Bread, mirrors the ancient Celtic rites of fire and water. Just as fire was seen as purifying and protective, water too had ceremonial roles, especially in baptism and sanctification. These elements converge both at Easter and on June 24.
Across Christian Europe, June 23rd (St. John’s Eve) became a night of sacred bonfires. In Ireland, Scotland, Brittany, and beyond, people leapt over flames, drove cattle through fire for blessing, and gathered dew or holy water from springs before dawn. The spiritual themes of purification, light, repentance, and divine favor remained intact, now explicitly consecrated to Christian doctrine.
Celtic Seasons and Liturgical Harmony In the Irish Book of Rights and seasonal customs, four seasons were acknowledged: Earrach (Spring), Samhradh (Summer), Foghmhar (Autumn), and Geimhreadh (Winter). Beltane marked the start of Samhradh, with its fire rites calling forth the sun’s strength. By moving this observance to the midpoint of summer—near the solstice—Patrick aligned Christian calendars with Celtic agrarian rhythms, preserving harmony while redirecting reverence.
Wniosek June 24th is more than the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist; it is a living continuation of Ireland’s sacred rhythms, transformed by Saint Patrick’s wisdom and Christian insight. Fire and water, solstice and sanctity, old rites and new covenant all converge in this day. As we approach it, may we remember and rekindle the light of that first unquenchable fire lit on Slane—not merely as history, but as a call to spiritual renewal today.
“He shall baptize you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire.” (Matthew 3:11).
Footnote
Ashes of Lent and the Palm Branch Connection
Another important tradition that demonstrates the Christian use of sacred fire is the ash rite of Lent. These ashes are typically created by burning the palm branches used on Palm Sunday, when the faithful commemorate Christ’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem. The people chanted “Hosanna”—a Greek transliteration of the Hebrew “Hoshana” or “Yahsha Ana”, meaning “Save us now”—a direct plea invoking the very name and mission of Jesus as Savior.
These palms are not only symbolic of victory and kingship but were also used biblically during the Feast of Tabernacles (Sukkot), when the Israelites waved palm branches and constructed booths in remembrance of God’s provision in the wilderness (Leviticus 23:40–43). The Hebrews waive the Palm branches and chant “Hosanna / Yahsha Ana” at the feast of Tabernacles every year. Burning these sacred symbols into ashes and using them to mark the forehead during Lent connects the cycle of life, death, purification, and resurrection. The symbolism is further deepened when considering that ashes in the Hebrew tradition, including those of the red heifer, were used in water to sanctify the unclean (Numbers 19), and that fire and ash were the acceptable medium for sacrificial transformation.
These sacred ashes—derived from prior year’s rejoicing—serve as a humbling reminder of mortality (“Remember, O man, that thou art dust”), but also a consecration of time, linking the fires of past festivals with the present call to repentance and renewal. In this way, fire becomes not only a purifier but a preserver of holy memory, integrated both in Hebrew liturgy and Christian sacramental life.