“The Emperor and the Baby: The Two Kings”

Christmas Eve Service

Monday, December 24, 2007

Isaiah 9: 2, 6-7

Psalm 96

Luke 2: 1-20

Tonight’s reading from the Gospel of Luke introduces us to two of the most remarkable individuals in human history.

On one hand, the passage introduces us to Emperor Augustus. 

In those days a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.

The Emperor Augustus was a powerful man.

Those of you who remember anything from Roman history will remember that Caius Octavius, who had been renamed Augustus Caesar by the Roman Senate in 27 BC., ruled over the Roman Empire until his death in 14 AD.  He was the first, and arguably the greatest, of Rome’s Emperors.  Following the assassination of Julius Caesar, the Roman Republic had been divided between three powerful individuals – Marc Antony, Caius Octavius and Lepidus.  But, by 27 BC, Octavius – or, as he had come to be known, Caius Julius Caesar Octavianus – had been renamed, by the Senate, as Augustus, the ruler of Rome.  As Will Durant wrote in the third volume of his monumental work on the History of Civilization, “What sort of man was this who was heir to [Julius] Caesar at eighteen, master of the world at thirty-one, ruler of Rome for half a century, and architect of the greatest empire in ancient history?  He was at once dull and fascinating; no one more prosaic, yet half the world adored him; a physical weakling not particularly brave, but able to overcome all enemies, regulate kingdoms, and fashion a government that would give the vast realm an unexampled prosperity for two hundred years.”

Under the leadership of Augustus, the Roman Empire was expanded, the taxation system was reformed, the corruption of the Senate was addressed, the Republic became a powerful Empire, and the foundation was laid for that era of peace which would come to be known first as the Pax Augusta, and then as the Pax Romana.  On his death, in 14 AD, the Roman Senate declared the Emperor Augustus Caesar to be a god, and revered his name so much that subsequent emperors took his name for themselves.

Though we do not often realize it, this fascinating character -- Emperor Augustus Caesar -- continues to hold a fairly prominent place in our modern world. The eighth month of our calendar year – the month of August – is named after him, just as the seventh month – July – is named after his predecessor Julius Caesar.

The Emperor Augustus was a powerful man.

But this emperor is only one of the interesting characters that we meet in this beloved passage.

The other significant character to whom we are introduced is a baby in a manger.

And a far less auspicious character the child seemed to be.  Born to peasant parents, who did not even have the power to secure a safe place to sleep for the night when they found themselves in the village of Bethlehem, the child knew a situation of poverty and humility from his earliest days.  We are so familiar with – and we have so romanticized -- the story of the infant in the cattle stall in Bethlehem that I sometimes wonder if we do not overlook just how strange this detail of there being ‘no room in the inn’ actually is.  After all, when we ride the bus or the subway, most of us would give up our seats if any obviously pregnant woman needed a place to sit.  Even more so, then, if a woman in the latest stages of pregnancy came into our town, and had nowhere to stay, most of us would try to do a bit better than simply sending her out to spend the night in a cattle stall.

But the portrait that this wonderful story paints for us suggests that Mary and Joseph did not even command the type of respect that most of us would offer to a stranger on a subway car.  Rather, we are first introduced to this baby just after he is born – surrounded by animals and laid in a feeding trough.

Two characters.  An emperor and a baby.  Unrivalled power and absolute vulnerability.  Glory and humility.  The greatest and the least.  Augustus and Jesus.

Although we are introduced to these two characters in the text that we read tonight, neither of their stories concludes in this passage from Luke chapter 2.  So often, we overlook the fact that the relationship between these two individuals is, in fact, one of the most significant themes in the subsequent writings of the author of Luke, and throughout the New Testament.

We all know, of course, that Jesus’ life was ended by those who serve as the representatives of a later Roman emperor.  But what we sometimes overlook is the fact that the Gospel of Luke is actually the first in a two – volume set of stories.  The second volume in the story is the Book of Acts.  Whereas the Gospel of Luke follows the life, teachings, death and resurrection of Jesus; the Book of Acts, written by the same individual, picks up the story at Christ’s departure, and follows the activities of Christ’s first followers. 

Luke and Acts share certain themes in common – not the least of which is the way that the message about the baby finds its way into the presence of the emperor. By the end of the Book of Acts, the story of the baby in the cattle stall in Bethlehem has made it all the way to Rome.  The apostle Paul, in appealing to a hearing before the Emperor for declaring the good news about the baby, had been arrested and carried to Rome.

And the message about that baby continued to be spread from there.  Some suggest that the Book of the Acts of the Apostles has not come an end.  The story of the ways that Jesus’ followers have gone out into the world, and continued to live and to declare Christ’s message of love, peace, reconciliation, forgiveness and hope – that is, the ongoing ‘acts’ of his followers – is a story that has not yet come to an end.  Today, on every continent and in every country, the proclamation of the coming – to this world -- of the reign of God’s peace, justice and love continues to go on. 

The Roman Empire, on the other hand, came to an end a long time ago.  Perhaps its only real remaining vestige is that branch of the Christian church whose leader continues to be based in Rome.  But the empire over which Augustus ruled with such might and such power is a thing of the past.

Which should cause us to pause. 

Because, even now, we sit in this beautiful sanctuary, two thousand years and half a world away, speaking in a language that did not even exist when that child was born, on a continent that was not known to the authors of these texts.  And we celebrate the birth of that baby because that baby -- and what he came to teach us, to show us, to reveal to us, and to accomplish for us – continues to stand at the very heart of the human longing for redemption and salvation.  It is in his service that we discover joy; it is in his presence that we experience communion; it is in his love that we meet God.

The Empires of this world rise and fall; we remember some of their emperors – and sometimes they are even significant enough to get a month of the year named after them – but the baby in that manger is the One from whose birth we measure time itself.

On that fateful night, approximately 2008 years ago, as powerful emperors were busy ruling over their transient kingdoms, the world changed.

The Word became flesh; the love of God became real; the reign of God, in this world, has begun.

Because the baby was born. 

Thanks be to God.

Amen.