Outlasting Augustus--December 22, 2022

Outlasting Augustus--December 22, 2022

"In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered. This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria. All went to their own towns to be registered. Joseph also went from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to the city of David called Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David." [Luke 2:1-4]

It is hard work, but sometimes the best way to deal with blowhards and bullies is to outwait them and outlast them. I see that now, this year in our journey toward Christmas, more than I think I ever have before, even though it's been there in the familiar story all along.  For whatever else this story is about, it begins with a reminder that God was willing to bear putting up with the outrageous arrogance of the empire while setting things into motion to save the very world that Caesar thought he ruled.

The familiar words of the Nativity story start out with the announcement of an imperial census, something that either seems like a random historical tangent or frames the entire story in a revolutionary light.  For a lot of my life, I'll confess, I heard these opening verses as just boring exposition, a who's-who of imperial bureaucrats who happened to be in power when the familiar story of the shepherds and angels and manger happened.  But now, somehow I can't shake the feeling that there's more going on here.

After all, Luke, the narrator, could have chosen anywhere to start this episode of the story, and he chooses to give us the backdrop of Caesar and his decree that "all the world" should be counted, registered, and assessed.  Caesar Augustus liked to imagine that he was the gods' gift to the world, and literally called himself in imperial decrees "the savior of the world" whose birth was "good news for all people."  Caesar was convinced that he ruled the whole world--or at least that the parts he ruled were the only parts that mattered.  His official imperial propaganda declared that he alone could rescue a world in danger and bring order to the chaos all around.  Caesar used things like this census to flex some imperial muscle, too--to get updated tax-collection information and to puff up his ego with ever-increasing numbers of subjects.  And any time Caesar decreed something like this, it was a chance to consolidate his power, crush dissent, and reinforce his rule.

Seriously, even just simply complying with the edict to go back to one's own hometown to be registered must have felt like it was letting Caesar win.  On his whim, everyone else has to put their lives on hold long enough to go back to their native country?  You can't help but imagine poor Joseph muttering a few choice profanities about the emperor as he made plans to stop working for a while and pack a bag for himself and for Mary to go back to his family's hometown of Bethlehem.  Even just going back home to be counted felt like you were a lamb being tallied in an inventory before the slaughter.  Even consenting to being "registered" must have felt like you were giving the evils of the Roman Empire an easy win you wish they wouldn't get away with.  It must have been hard for Joseph to comply and give the arrogant, god-complex-manifesting Caesar Augustus one more victory, no matter how small it might have seemed in the big scheme of things, and force his fiance Mary to come along for the bumpy ride that seemed to serve no purpose but to prop up the Empire.

Zoom out to a bigger scale, and it becomes clear, too, that it had to have been difficult, honestly, for God to give Caesar his moment.  God was willing to work through the means of this imperial census, to use its procedures as a part of the grand design to save the world through the promised Messiah.  But that also meant letting Caesar have this moment to glory in, when it looked like the Empire had everyone and everything under its thumb, even while God was at work right under the nose of the Empire to bring about something new.  Much like you have to imagine God being patient during the childhood of Moses, when the child of enslaved Hebrews was raised right under Pharaoh's watch [on Pharaoh's dime, no less] before becoming the one to confront Pharaoh and insist on the freedom of those Egypt held in bondage, now before Jesus' birth God has to be willing to let the Empire's moves play out, even if for a moment that makes it look like Rome is all-powerful.  God, in other words, is patient in letting the powers of the day have their moment.  God will end up using the very circumstances that lead Joseph to Bethlehem for Caesar's census, but at first God has to be willing to bear letting Caesar and his empire brag about their power and greatness.  And I've got to admit, that seems really hard to me.

Some part of us wants to see bullies immediately smacked down out of their positions of power.  Some part of us wants to insist that they get their comeuppance, and sooner rather than later.  And something inside us just wants to see the smug looks of the arrogant and smirks of the power-hungry wiped from their faces. It is hard to see them grandstanding, and hard to hear them crowing about their self-imagined greatness, and sometimes you really just want someone to come along and bravely say, "The emperor is wearing no clothes."  And while I can't imagine what it's like inside the mind of God, I have to think it's an affront to God's goodness and character for a cruel military dictator like Caesar to go around claiming he's the savior of the world whose empire is the source of all good things, right in God's face.  But God's doesn't lash out with lightning from the sky to zap Caesar [that's what the Roman or Greek gods like Zeus or Jupiter would do, of course].  God doesn't yell a big thundering, "No!" when Caesar issues his decree.  Instead, God is patient.  God is willing to let poor, pathetic Caesar bellow out all his orders, and still to work behind the scenes and right under the Empire's nose.  God refuses to let the Empire's cruelty and arrogance push God into giving up or walking away from the world, but neither does God take the bait and play by the Empire's rules.  God keeps working, without fanfare or imperial announcement, even while Caesar thinks he is the one calling the shots.  I don't know what else to call that but patient love--love that is willing to put the good of the beloved [the world] before the ego's needs to look "right" or "victorious" for the moment.  And that kind of love is hard--it just is.

But once we recognize that layer of this story, it adds a whole new dimension to the love of God.  It means that Christ's birth--the event we celebrate at Christmas--isn't an easy gift, but one that comes with sacrifice.  God chooses the patient, slow-moving, quiet way of redeeming the world, and that means the willingness to sacrifice God's reputation while the Empire brags and boasts about its glorious greatness, all for the sake of loving the world through the Christ-child.  Apparently, God is convinced you are worth that kind of sacrifice. Apparently, God believes you are so precious that God can live through all of the bluster of every Caesar and every Empire in order to remain committed to you.  Apparently, you and this whole world are worthy of such patient love.

Gracious God, open our eyes to the depths of your love for us, today and always.