43 years ago the Ides of March fell on a Sunday. I was scheduled to lead thee worship services that day. The first, at 9:30 am, would be in a small community 16 miles west of our home. The second would be in the church that was next door to the parsonage where we lived. The third was at the nursing home in our city. The event was fairly early in my career. I had served as every week pulpit supply for a year in a small congregation while I was a college student. I had served two internships while in graduate school. Our first call to serve as independent pastors was to two congregations in rural southwest North Dakota. Missing a worship service was a rare occasion for me. It remained rare throughout my career.

That day, however, I missed all three services.

My wife had been in labor most of the previous night. I had anticipated, when she went into labor, that the child might be born in time for me to make the services. As the time drew near, I put into place the plan that we had made for coverage for my absence. Still, I thought I might have news to deliver by phone to the worship service. I was a new father, and I didn’t really know what to expect. The time for the second service at 11:00 came and I didn’t have time to place a call.

Our son was born just past noon. Not long afterward I placed calls to the two churches whose worship services I had missed. Participants in the second service had been informed that the birth was near and were waiting after the service to hear the news. I also placed a call to the nursing home, informing them that I would be missing that service as well. I was very tired, having been awake all of the previous night. I was too excited to sleep, however. My mother had been on the road since early that morning, driving the nearly 400 miles from her home to ours to help welcome the new baby. Those were the days before cell phones, so she would receive the news when she arrived. I placed a call to Susan’s parents, who were eagerly awaiting.

Ultrasound existed in those days, but the imaging device wasn’t as detailed or accurate as it has now become. We didn’t have a clue about the gender of our son before he was born.

We were familiar with the soothsayer’s warning to Julius Caesar in Shakespeare’s play named for its principal character. The day had taken on a bit of a dark and gloomy connotation. But in our family, the day is one of celebration and rejoicing. We do not fear or dread its coming each year. The Ides has a non-threatening history. The sense of impending doom came with Shakespeare’s play. In Roman times, Kalends, Nones, and Ides were markers used to reference days in relation to lunar phases. Ides simply referred to the first full moon of a given month. The Roman calendar was bed on lunar cycles and the full moon usually fell between the 13th and the 15th. For the Romans, the Ides of March signified the new year, with attendant celebrations and rejoicing.

However, the calendar months and lunar months were different lengths. The length of months was an intensely political matter in ancient Rome. That is why we have ended up with some months with 31 days and February with only 28 (29 in leap year). Our modern calendar has been shifted and is no longer in sync with the lunar calendar. The last full moon was February 24, and March’s full moon won’t be for ten more days. Despite the fact that we call the 15th the Ides, the moon is a waxing crescent shining only about a third of the brightness of a full moon.

In addition, we have fallen into the practice of observing the new year in relation to the change from shortening to lengthening days in the northern hemisphere. Our New Year’s Dinner was two and a half months ago on January 1.

The sense of impending doom on the ides of March is still a bit of popular culture. Several television programs have featured stories of coming crisis in episodes designed to appear on March 15. For most people, however, the phrase “Beware the Ides of March,” is more of a bit of ancient lore from a play by The Bard. The concept of the Ides doesn’t get much traction in popular culture.

In our family, however, we note the Ides with special celebration. Of course, in the 43 years of our son’s life we have not always been able to be with him on his birthday. Sometimes we have celebrated long distance with phone calls and gifts sent through the mail. And sometimes busy schedules have meant that celebrations had to be scheduled close to the actual day of his birthday rather than on the actual day. However, we have now moved close to where our son lives and have been able to see him on his birthday for the past three years. And this year, he is able to have day off from work today so our family celebrations will focus on this day.

Dinner this evening will be at our house. We’ll prepare some of the celebration foods that he loved when he was a child. And, of course, there will be a cake. We aren’t much for eating dessert in our daily lives, but we’ll have cake and ice cream this evening. And yesterday, in celebration of Pi day, Susan baked a pie from cherries that we had harvested from our tree last summer and frozen. So it is a week of sweet treats around our house.

Time has passed. A second child came into our family. And now there are five grandchildren. Our son is the father of four. We’ve learned quite a bit about the birth of babies from that day long ago. Still, that event was momentous and life changing for us. And it remains a day worthy of celebration.

I have no fear of the Ides of March.