Christmas Eve 2007

Pastor John Marboe

Immanuel Lutheran Church

Luke 2.1-20: Jesus and Caesar Augustus

“In those days, a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the entire world should be enrolled…” Who was Caesar Augustus? In those days, when Luke told the story, everybody knew who Caesar Augustus was, while few knew who Jesus was. Today the case is quite the opposite: everybody knows who Jesus was, but, despite our month of August being named for him, few know much about Caesar Augustus.

In 31 B.C.E., roughly thirty years prior to the events we remember tonight, a decisive naval battle was fought that brought an end to years of civil war over control of the Roman Empire. That battle occurred in a place these simple poor peasant folk, Mary and Joseph, probably had never heard of but it came to define the world in which they lived and led directly to the unfolding of the events in their story.

That battle was between the ships of Octavian Caesar, on the one side, and those of his arch rivals for power, Marc Antony and Cleopatra on the other. In that battle, the smaller forces of Octavian overcame those of Antony and Cleopatra. In the wake of their overwhelming loss to Octavian, Antony and Cleopatra both committed suicide. And Octavian became sole ruler of most of the then known world, including the world in which Mary and Joseph lived.

Octavian took on a new title: Caesar Augustus, which means something like Exalted One. Under his long reign the Roman Empire maintained relative peace throughout the Mediterranean world by a system of law, tribute and force. The famous Pax Romana or Peace of Rome was also called Pax Augusta, the peace of Augustus.

Augustus had other titles:

High Priest.

Son of God (he was said to be the son of the god, Apollo).

Savior of the world.

Bringer of peace.

It is not insignificant that the story of Christ’s birth in Luke’s account is set in motion by a decree from Caesar Augustus. Luke wants us to understand Jesus was born into a world under the domination of the Roman Emperor, Augustus.

Luke means for us to consider the contrast. Who is God’s son? Who is savior of the world? Who brings peace on earth? And how is that peace to come? Is Caesar God’s son? Who sits atop the most powerful empire the world has perhaps ever known, who has the power to insure not only the compliance but the safety of his citizens? Whose empire is the lone superpower in the world of that day? Or is God’s son a helpless, poor child…the very picture of vulnerability?

It is human nature to associate God’s favor with winners. Especially when we are the winners. Or when we are trying to be the winners.

I remember to my own embarrassment a small but telling example. I played tennis as a boy. One match I was playing a slightly older boy who was also slightly better than me. We were tied. I prayed. God, help me beat him. Then a startling thought occurred to me: maybe God cared as much about him as me. Then a disturbing thought: maybe God wanted me to lose, and I might be drawing undue attention from the Divine. Maybe it would be better not to pray at all, because it might just irritate God. I became so tangled up in the theological and moral implications of praying for victory that I completely lost my concentration on the game and lost the match.

Those who wish to imagine God is on the side of power in human affairs, which may be, from time to time, all of us, tend to see the lowly birth of Christ as the beginning of a kind of a divine rags to riches story. The lowly birth is a hiding place, concealing the glory, splendor and power that will be his, and, hopefully, shared by us.

But what if, instead, the poverty, the vulnerability, the exposure, the anonymity, and the pain are not a disguise, but are the essence of the revelation? That God’s special and saving presence is always found in those circumstances, and not in dominion?

Three centuries after the birth of Christ the tables of history turned and the Roman Emperor, Constantine declared himself to be a Christian. He proceeded to conquer his enemies under the sign of the cross. Christianity became the religion of the Empire and Christ’s kingdom became synonymous with that Empire. How ironic!

Luke wants us to see in his story of Christ’s birth, that Christ must not be associated with empire, with domination, with the victory—one side over another. Luke goes on to tell how Jesus devoted his life to describing a kingdom that is not of this world. A coming kingdom in which the first will be last, the last first, where the proud will be cast down from their thrones and the lowly lifted up, in which little children, the poor and the meek are its ideal citizens, in which love and not power is the highest value, in which enemies are loved, not hated.

Let us not forget that just as Mary was forced to give birth to her first child in a stable 100 miles from home by decree of the Emperor, so Jesus would be put to death by that same authority for daring to speak of a different sort of kingdom.

The desperate and vulnerable circumstances of Christ’s birth do not conceal the glory of God, they reveal it perfectly. Jesus will never stray from his humble origins either in how he lives or what he says.

In his kingdom shepherds, peasants, and young girls are favored by God. In his kingdom the outcast is welcome. In his kingdom peace is not won by victory, force and domination but in loving-kindness. In his kingdom the king does not make others bleed, but is willing to bleed for others.

In worldly terms, it’s no contest between Caesar and Jesus. Caesar wins hands down. Without even knowing who Jesus was, Roman Power determined where he was born and also put him to death.

But the spirit of Christ did not die.

We have not stopped thinking, wondering, dreaming, imagining a different sort of kingdom, one in which love is as important as justice and more important than force. One in which peace does not depend on the domination of some by others.

We are as susceptible as anyone to the allure of domination and the peace and security we imagine that will bring.

We are as willing as the Romans to attribute victory over our enemies to God’s blessing upon us.

The Christmas we all love so much, if we let it speak to us over the din of our festivities, says otherwise.

Luke’s telling of that first Christmas, of the struggle of a little family for survival in contrast to the mighty Caesar Augustus is poignant.

Where is Christmas happening? Where is Christ being born? Perhaps not so much among those of us with plenty, with means, with safety and security this season…

But instead, where is the stable? Who are the shepherds? Where is the displaced couple trudging their way, hoping for their survival and that of their baby? Desperate for warmth and safety? Without the strength or the will to sing a Christmas carol?

Where in the world are these? They are everywhere. Yet the interests of empire do not include them.

Yet, Luke tells us, Christ is born among such as these…..

A very gifted girl grew up with a father who saw in her potential for great achievements. He himself had come from very humble origins and became the first in his family to graduate from college and then to achieve a masters degree. He became a science teacher. When his daughter was born he had big ambitions for her. He would teach her music and science. He gave her private lessons on the violin and piano. He taught her tennis with the intensity of a drill instructor. He insisted on excellent grades. He wanted her to be one of the first women in the country to go to medical school.

But these were not what she wanted. And she became physically sick every time she took a science or math test in school.

For the father’s master’s thesis, he had chosen the topic: “Training the Gifted Child.”

The girl, as she grew older, came to realize this, and that for him she was his grand experiment.

She never went to Med. School. She always felt like a disappointment to her father.

This is a true story.

Except for one thing.

Years later, after the father was long dead, and the and the daughter was elderly, she shared a bit of this story with her own daughter. Her daughter was curious about that masters’ thesis. She wanted to read it. Her mother had never read it, had been afraid to. Together they looked through boxes in the attic until they found it.

When they did, they discovered that it had nothing to do with Gifted Children at all.

It was, rather, about fire code requirements for public schools.

Christmas has to do with historical events. Jesus was born sometime around 4 BCE.

The Gospels of Matthew and Luke are the main accounts that contain the history around Jesus’ birth. Mark and John begin their accounts when Jesus is fully grown.

The birth stories in Matthew and Luke are similar to each other in important ways, but they also differ rather profoundly from one another. The shepherds are only in Luke. The manger, the swaddling clothes, the Inn with no room, the Angels singing glory to god and peace on earth, Caesar Augustus: All these are only mentioned in Luke’s account.

The Magi are only in Matthew. The Star, King Herod and his attempt to kill the newborn king, and the flight of the holy family to Egypt are all part of Matthew’s telling, not Luke.

We are talking about historical events, but not only historical events. Jesus, Herod, Caesar, Jesus’ parents are historical figures. Bethlehem, Nazareth, Egypt, Rome are all historical places.

But just how these people and these events came together in history is not our central concern, nor is the central concern of the bible. The bible gives us two very different accounts of the birth of Christ. They cannot both be historically accurate in every detail. But in a far more important way, they can both be true.

Truth does not subsist in historical facts. Most historical facts are forgotten and meaningless to us. Truth subsists in the way we remember historical facts, the way we find meaning by weaving stories out of historical events.

Luke tells us the story of the birth of Christ in a certain way, a way quite different from Matthew, because he wanted to convey far more than just historical facts.