Steven Sim

Words are more treacherous and powerful than we think – Jean-Paul Sartre

Luke’s Nativity: Caesar & Christ

It’s funny how god works. Because if we or any of the religious-type were in charge, we would probably have done it the other way ’round.

If we have it our way with correcting the wrongs of the world, we will probably do one of the two extremes; come down in chariots of fire with legions of angels to defeat the evils of the world, or to quietly change the minds of humanity towards goodness by a soft swirl of some magical winds. Either way, we have the upper-hand in overwhelming our helpless enemies.

Imagine if we were to write the story of god saving the world. We will probably end up with an epic of heroic wars. Which is what we get in the old poets and story tellers, Greek, Roman, Chinese, Indian, Anglo-saxon.

But Luke would have it slightly different, though no less epic.

“In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria. And everyone went to his own town to register” (Luke 2:1-2)

Caesar Augustus was a name quite immediately identified, at least during the times of Luke, with power, no, superpower. The great Julius Caesar was his grand uncle, but he was a statesman as much as the elder Caesar. Augustus was destined to give his borrowed surname, Caesar, to the world to title emperors and rulers. His reign was known as the era of peace, the pax romania or pax augusta.

Augustus prided his achievements as such that he had them inscribed in his kingly mausoleum as the Res Gestae Divi Augusti – the deeds of the divine Augustus. Yes, divine, for having a hand earlier in his career to deify his deceased predecessor Julius Caesar, whom he called “father”, he effectively became god’s son sharing in his father’s divinity. When he passed on, he was in turn worship as a god himself, establishing a cult which will last about three hundred years with temples dedicated to him everywhere in the empire.

Luke set the opening of his epic against the background of this great god-man, Caesar Augustus, the “Revered Emperor”, more a title than a name, but almost indistinguishable. The Emperor called for a census to be taken of his empire, to gauge the breath and width and depth of his rule as the sole global superpower of the known world.

Then, as if picking up a rock only to throw it away again, Luke left the god-man Emperor behind and went on to describe with the full paradox of the great empire of Caesar Augustus in the background, the humble family of Joseph with his expecting young wife, Mary making their way to the small town of Bethlehem to participate in the census. Few more words follow through, and Luke said,

“…the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son” (v6-7)

And as if to amplify the distance of greatness between rule of Rome and her divine king Caesar Augustus and the humble Jewish family, Luke wrote that the child

“…was wrapped in cloths and placed in a barn, because there was no room for them in the inn.” (v7)

If Luke was writing about how the hero saved the day, his protagonist was never Rome’s god-king; it was the little child born in an animal shed to an artisan family. True, Augustus was eminent at the beginning of the Luke’s epic. And perhaps there were times in his story when the hero was proved to be nothing more than a little child whose family probably had no money and socio-political connections to get an inn-room in their own hometown.  There were times when the hero was as weak as Caesar’s Rome wanted him to be, helpless, beaten up, bloodied and sentenced to a shameful death.

But Luke had always knew the ending of his story would be different, because if god was the one who inspired the story, or even better, if he had actually acted in it, it would be different.

But of course, Luke himself did not foresee the day when the little peasant child would be given a kingly title almost indistinguishable from his own name – the Christ.

He did not foresee the day when the little child would supplant the divine Augustus not only in Caesar’s temples but also on Caesar’s political throne.

Luke did not foresee the day when pax romania and pax augusta will be superseded by the peace of god which surpasses all understandings.

Luke did not foresee the day when the symbol of Caesar’s mighty power, the “stauros”, the instrument of execution used on the worst of criminals (the “cross”), Caesar’s solution to world’s problem, would become the symbol of god’s mighty love in and through the Christ, god’s solution to world’s problem.

Luke’s story, you see, is not merely about converting people from one religion to another. It is much bigger; Luke told the story of a baby born during the rule of great Caesar Augustus and destined to one day replace the value system and worldview of the old Empire. It has a happy ending alright, but before the “happily ever after…”, many more adventures will be told and retold, all hinging back to Luke’s original story of the birth in the animal barn. Remember how Luke story started with a little baby in the huge messy stage of the world of superpower? That’s god’s way of doing things, now will we follow suit? Or we prefer our own ways?

Have a merry Christmas…

nativity-indon
Nativity scene – Andi Harisman, Indonesia

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