Luke’s Counter-Cultural Christmas Story (Paul Penley)
Luke’s Counter-Cultural Christmas Story: Jesus’ path to peace
and joy
The Birth of Two Different Saviors
You might know that only Matthew and Luke wrote birth stories. The
earliest Gospel Mark provides no such account, and John’s Gospel focuses on
divine origin rather than physical birth. When we analyze the biblical
accounts of Jesus’ birth, we find two very different stories. We find
logistical differences in the genealogies. We find different geographical
movements. Matthew starts in Bethlehem and sends the family to Egypt after the
birth. Luke starts and ends in Nazareth with a trip to Bethlehem for the birth.It’s
important to ask why.
The Gospel Is Bigger Than You
By Paul T. Penley
Was Jesus born to save us from this world or bring peace to the
earth? Luke’s counter-cultural Christmas story answers this question.
What a Birth Means to a Mom
For many of us the story of our birth doesn’t answer questions
about the purpose of our life. Birth stories typically amount to no more than
nostalgic moments at family gatherings. One parent (if you’re so blessed to
have a relationship with one) smiles wide and recounts an anecdote for the
hundredth time to the chagrin of all who must endure it. My mother is guilty of
it all the time.
Her favorite tale is my in utero umbilical cord trick. I
had tied the cord in a knot while in the womb. When I popped out, the doctors
knew I was a few good pulls away from starving myself. “It is a miracle he’s
alive today,” my mom always says, normally adding, “God must have created him
for an important purpose.” With this statement, my birth story turns into a
mandate. It puts serious pressure on me to do things that matter. Every good
thing I do now becomes potential material for my mother to link back to my
providential preservation at birth. I really need to start producing some of
that material.
The Meaning of Ancient Births
Ancient biographies of great figures such as Alexander the Great
and Caesar Augustus use circumstances at birth to predict greatness. The Greek
historian Plutarch recounted two particular signs predicting Alexander the
Great’s conquest of the known world. First, the Temple of Artemis burned
down in Ephesus when Alexander was born. Second, his dad’s triple
victory on the day of his son’s birth tipped off the prophets to his
significance.
“On the same day, three pieces of news reached Philip (Alexander’s
dad), who had just captured Potidaea: Parmenio’s defeat of the Illyrians in a
great battle; the victory of Philip’s racehorse at the Olympic Games; and the
birth of Alexander. Pleased as he surely was with these tidings, Philip was
even more elated by the prophets, who declared that his son, as he had been
born on the day of a triple victory, would be unconquerable” (Plutarch, Life
of Alexander 3).
What did all this mean? Magi in Ephesus believed the burning of
the Temple to Artemis foreshadowed the coming destruction of the Persians who
ruled the area. And they were right. Alexander did exactly that during his
unstoppable conquest across the known world building the Greek Empire. The
activity around his birth prophesied that conquest. It was no coincidence.
That’s why ancient biographies of heroic figures began with a birth story.
If the signs around ancient births deliver symbolic messages, it
makes me wonder what missing messages are tucked into the birth narratives of
Jesus. What statement is being made by the sequence of events around Jesus’
birth that we overlook today?
In the big picture, Matthew’s account presents Jesus in terms most
meaningful to Jews immersed in Scripture. Luke describes Jesus’ birth for
Gentiles immersed in a Greek-speaking Roman world. Their audiences demand two
different depictions of Jesus’ birth. For each Gospel to foreshadow greatness
at birth, they could not tell the same story to two different audiences.
So how do Matthew and Luke contextualize their birth narratives for
different audiences? To summarize, Matthew proclaims Jesus will “save his
people from their sins.” Luke’s Jesus will save “all people.” Matthew
connects Jesus to the “Immanuel” Isaiah prophesied who is born in Bethlehem
where Micah predicted. Essentially Matthew introduces the “ruler of the Jews.”
The elements of his birth story derive from messianic expectations of the Jews
carefully tied to Scripture. Luke introduces the “Lord of the world” to
Gentiles. So he goes in a different direction.
Luke 2 and the Roman
Empire
Luke avoids exclusivity and calls Jesus a Savior “for all people.”
Jesus will bring “peace on earth.” He is the Lord of all not just king of the
Jews. However, Luke is not just presenting a generic “Jesus for
everybody.” Luke is doing something more specific than we typically realize.
Remember Luke’s audience grew up in a Greco-Roman world around modern-day
Turkey. They had specific traditions from the Greek-speaking Roman Empire that
Luke was challenging in his presentation of a new Savior.
How do I know? Good question. In Luke’s birth story, he
immediately connects it to a Roman census issued by Caesar Augustus. Luke 2:1 reads, “In
those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be
registered.” Of all the events and figures he could have mentioned, Luke wants
his readers to place Jesus’ birth during the reign of Augustus in the Roman Empire.
Being the only mention of Augustus (at least by name) in the entire New
Testament, it stands out and begs the question: “Why?” What is it Luke wants us
to see? How exactly does the birth of Jesus relate to Augustus’s Roman Empire?
For those 3 of you out there who have been asking this question
your whole life, get ready for your thirst to be satisfied in this excerpt from
my book Reenacting the Way (of Jesus).
For the rest of you, just go with it for a few paragraphs. It’s going to get
good.
The Gospel of Augustus
In 9 BCE the Proconsul of Asia, Paulus Fabius Maximus, advised the
koinon of Asia (i.e., the governing assembly of the Roman province of
Asia) to change their calendars from the local lunar calendar to the solar
calendar used in Rome. I know. It’s such a big event you are wondering how you
hadn’t heard about it before.
The Proconsul specifically recommended the first of the year be
placed on September 23, the birthday of Caesar Augustus. His reasoning was
simple. Since the birth of Augustus ushered in a new age of peace and
prosperity, his birthday should be the first day of every year.
The governing assembly loved the idea. They all knew it would
please the emperor and possibly attract more imperial tax dollars. So they put
together a good PR campaign to milk it for all it was worth. They posted a declaration
of their decision in every major city. Read this translation carefully and
listen for the same language you’ve read in Luke’s birth story of Jesus.
Providence has filled Augustus with divine power for the benefit
of humanity, and in her beneficence has granted us and those who will come
after us [a Saviour] who has made war to cease and who shall put everything
[in peaceful order] . . . And Caesar, [when he was manifest], transcended
the expectations of [all who had anticipated the good news], not only by
surpassing the benefits conferred by his predecessors but by leaving no
expectation of surpassing him to those who would come after him, with the
result that the birthday of our god signaled the beginning of good news for
the world because of him. (Lines 34-41 quoted from Graham Stanton, Jesus and Gospel [Cambridge:
Cambridge
Univ Pr, 2004], 32).
For the Christian reader this inscription sounds full of heretical
language. It seems to apply titles and roles to Augustus that are religious in
nature and only appropriate for Jesus. Yet, the language is fully political. In
the time of Augustus, a Savior full of divine power whose birth signaled good
news for the world was nothing other than the emperor who brought political and
social stability. The birth of Caesar Augustus created the Pax Romana,
or Roman peace. He saved the civilized world from disarray. So his birthday is
a gospel to proclaim.
The Gospel of Jesus and Augustus
How does the “good news” of Jesus’ birth relate to the “good news”
of Augustus’s birth? In the gospel of Augustus above and the gospel of Jesus in
Luke, both are “Saviors.” Both bring “peace to the whole world.” Both are sent
by divine providence.
In a Roman world, the arrival of a Savior would not mean a few
individuals can now be snatched away to heaven from the perils of this planet
or the afterlife. Luke and his audience wouldn’t see Jesus as a personal
savior who intends to bring peace to one’s soul. It is much bigger than that.
It is a direct challenge to Caesar. Jesus arrives to rule the world and restore
order.
Why does hearing the precise meaning of Luke’s birth narrative
matter? Because many of us associate “savior” with someone who just takes care
of our sins or personal needs or fears of the future. “My savior solves my
problems.” While those issues may be addressed in the Bible elsewhere, Luke’s
vision for saving goes way beyond a personal spiritual experience. It has
ramifications for the entire world and all of its social structures. Jesus’
birthday in Luke anticipates justice in society not personal justification in
heaven. It concerns the same realm over which Caesar exerted his control.
Luke’s intricate connection between Jesus and Caesar doesn’t stop
there. The entire scale of his birth narrative mocks an ancient practice of
flagrant Caesar self-promotion.
Singing Caesar’s Praises
The angels in Jesus’ birth story don’t get much attention. We
typically pay attention to what was said not who said it.
However, that wasn’t the case for Luke and his Greco-Roman audience. When an
army of angels takes center stage to sing about Jesus the Savior, Luke knows
his audience will make another connection. The singing angels weren’t the only
chorus in town that sung about the good news of saviors and lords.
In many eastern Roman provinces, the Caesar was honored at
athletic competitions and worshipped at imperial temples. At the time of Jesus’
birth, temples to the god Augustus and the goddess Roma stood in key cities
where Luke and Paul did ministry together (e.g., Pergamon of Asia, Ankyra of
Galatia, and Nikomedia of Bithynia). People worshipped the emperor like a god
at these temples.
At the city of Pergamon (one of the seven churches of Revelation
located in the Roman province of Asia where Luke travelled), organizers named
their athletic competition the Kaisareia in honor of the Caesar. The
Caesars loved the flattery. And the organizers knew it. Besides running and
wrestling in honor of Caesar, the competitions expanded to kiss Caesar’s ass
through poetry and song. Performers composed verse like Horace’s Odes
(see Ode 1.12) to thank God for
sending Caesar Augustus to save the world.
Heavenly Angels One Up Caesar’s Choir
So what do these Caesar-loving songs have to do with the singing
angels in Luke 2:1-20? I’m glad
you asked. Early in Augustus’s reign he visited one of Pergamon’s celebrations
in his honor and heard a chorus of men sing his praises. He was quite taken by
their melodic compliments. The gesture of the Asian chorus so pleased the
emperor that he ordered the singers to become a permanent fixture in Asia’s
honorary contests.
To make it feasible Augustus established a special levy to
financially support the existence of a forty-person male chorus. The chorus
quickly became an elite social club with hereditary rites. They gathered at one
event after another to sing the praises of the Caesars. They guaranteed
top-quality sycophancy for stroking every emperor’s ego.
When Luke’s audience heard about a massive angelic chorus singing
the praises of God and his appointed Savior, the closest experience would be
imperial singers. They had heard the songs sung by the choir praising Providence
for Caesar’s peaceful rule over the world.
But the comparison would quickly become a contrast. Jesus’ birth
elicited the presence of countless angels from heaven. Caesar Augustus had to
pay a group of men to show up and sing his praises. One of those choruses is
clearly superior. One of those births must be more important. Luke’s contrast
would have made a statement to any Hellenistic audience who had grown up in the
Pax Romana established by Caesar Augustus. There is a new emperor in
town. He is a much bigger deal. And his name is Jesus.
Jesus Delivers What Politicians Propagandize
Jesus’ birth should be heard as a polemic against political
pretenders promising to deliver what only he can. As Luke makes clear, Jesus is
savior and not some Caesar. His birth is the real good news. He is the one who
will bring peace and joy to the whole world—even beyond Rome’s Empire. That is
why endless angels from heaven sung about Jesus’ greatness whereas Caesar had
to settle for some dudes he paid. Rome is only a parody of the reality found in
Jesus.
To honor Luke’s counter-cultural Christmas story, don’t just watch
the 50th anniversary special of Charlie Brown’s Christmas.
Instead, embrace Jesus’ delivery of what the Roman Empire promised. He is the restorer
of order and peace. Our lives should be ordered around him like the Asians
rearranged their calendar around Augustus’s birthday to acknowledge how he
authored a new world. Jesus has the way to bring peace and justice to every
society.
Not surprisingly, Jesus’ method for remaking the world doesn’t
look like Rome. Jesus does not bring about revolution through conquest and fear
of reprisal. He doesn’t silence dissidents with the sword or subjugate nations
involuntarily. Jesus delivers in a whole new way. Jesus’ kingdom policy
involves compassion, justice, suffering to serve others, and empowering the
oppressed and ostracized. Enemies are loved rather than slaughtered and
arrogance is replaced by humility. These are the hallmark moments of Luke’s
Gospel.
Social transformation results from personal transformation
demonstrated publicly. Jesus’ kingdom is no spiritual escape from the
complexities of life in this world and its societal structures. It is designed
to reorder it all. It intends to address the same problems for which
politicians develop policies and programs. Luke’s counter-cultural Christmas
story calls us to re-commit to the way of Jesus rather than methods of unjust
power brokers. Jesus can create peace in situations where human factions only foster
violence.
Jesus Can Resolve Tribal Conflict
What does it look like for Jesus’ plan for peace to confront
Rome’s lust for power? Return for a moment to the tribal genocide of Rwanda
back in 1994. According to one eyewitness report, a group of roughly 13,500
Christians gathered in a small village 13 miles from Kigali to find refuge from
the fighting. Although millions sought safety away from city centers, this
particular gathering set itself apart because of their unique constituency.
There were both Hutu and Tutsi people together.
These tribes were supposed to hate each other. If these Christians
had adopted the cultural values of the militants, they would have been fighting
one another instead of hiding together. This type of mixed gathering was unacceptable
to the militias.
Their safe haven was eventually exposed to rebel militia who
rounded them up at gunpoint. The rebels demanded the Hutus and Tutsis separate
so that only the inferior tribal people would be killed. In response, the
leadership of this Christian gathering proclaimed, “We will not separate. For
we are all one in Christ.” The apostle Paul would have been proud. He had used
that same line to stop senseless conflict between Jews and Gentiles.
The recognition of each person’s equality before Christ provided
an alternate path to peace that day. The tribal conflict was swallowed up for a
moment in the superordinate identity of one true humanity. Unfortunately, that
moment did not last long.
The potential power for peace was quickly silenced by the sounds
of machine guns spraying bullets and spilling the blood of all those gathered
in the name of Jesus. Although Jesus’ kingdom policy had resolved the division
and conflict between thousands of Hutus and Tutsis, a few men with Romanesque
military tactics believed more strongly that violence would relieve their fears
and accomplish their cause. The ensuing murderous scene is too horrifying to
imagine.
On the one hand, the massacre stands out as a sign that Caesars
are still promising peace and joy by means of bloodshed and dominance. On the
other hand, the shared death of Hutus and Tutsis is a symbol of promise for a
world that needs to be saved from more projects of dehumanization and
destruction. Jesus can save the world. He can bring peace “on earth” if we
embody his ways. That is the “good news of great joy” to proclaim to all that
have succumbed to the illusory promises of establishing peace through death,
joy through terror, and salvation through domination
Jesus’ global plan for peace and joy is rarely the gospel we
announce. Too often we settle for a tiny, personalized announcement of inner
peace. Or we give up on seeing large-scale peace for all people today and
relinquish our hopes to an afterlife or idyllic world to come. I hope these
failures on our part only reflect a misunderstanding of Jesus and not our fear
to follow him.
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