The two could not be farther apart, really. When one steps back to look at it, it seems so obvious. But we get hazed by the familiarity of the story; we know it so well, we tend not to look at the details.

"In those days," Luke begins. Stop right there: "What days?" we should ask. What makes those days so significant to this story? Why, the presence of Emperor Augustus, of course. In the beginning of his reign, Caesar Augustus had made significant improvements in the early first century Roman Empire: increased financial security, relative peace and stability in the Mediterranean region (for the most part), especially safer travel on the high seas.

In those days when Augustus ruled implied a period of time when the Emperor brought peace and salvation to the vast Roman Empire. Now think of that empire for a moment: the sprawling system of roads and waterways, legions of marching armies, the rise of powerful cities, impressive advances in the arts, music, languages, medicine, law and rhetoric. "In those days," Rome ruled the known Western world. When Caesar in Rome said "Jump," the citizenry replied, "How high?"

So Luke begins his account by reminding us of the setting, the scene of the world's greatest power and King at the time. Caught up in the exercise of that power-a forced return to one's homeland for a national census-Luke introduces the very opposite of that political will and military might: A humble sojourner and his pregnant wife, staying near extended family and friends, displaced from home at a very stressful time for them. Their focus rests on the immanent birth of a child and his future.

This couple hardly seems threatening to a first Century superpower like Rome. The two could not be farther apart, really. Yet in this story we witness the introduction of a new kingdom. Here in a narrative so familiar that it almost tells itself, we see that the birth of this child, an innocent baby, is cause for the heavens themselves to split open, and a celestial announcement to take place. This birth is "good news of great joy for ALL people." A savior is born, the Messiah, the Lord.

After setting the stage with Augustus, Luke draws our attention to a very different kind of empire rising, an empire not built on military conquest or political maneuvering but an empire of love and compassion, starting with the birth of a child in Palestine. Joseph and Mary are not people in political power, eager to continue the present power structure with themselves or their children in charge; this King of Love is born to common day laborers. Odd way to begin an empire, wouldn't you think? The two could not be farther apart.

Look at the contrasts between the two: The Roman Empire covered an enormous area of geography; the Kingdom of God resides in innumerable human hearts across the world in lands that Augustus never dreamed of ruling.

The imperial rule of Caesar actually existed in time; the Kingdom of God, while born in time, now exists outside of chronological time, and survives for all of eternity. One can easily see what has happened to the Roman Empire; over fifteen hundred years ago it fell, for a variety of reasons, but mostly through larger than life egos obsessed with power. But the empire born at Christmas still stands, and still expands. The empire born at Christmas still redeems and inspires people to be larger than themselves through sacrificial love. That it continues to accomplish that task is still Good news of great joy to all people.

Notice, too, how Luke breaks the news of this monumental, historical event. It does not go through political or diplomatic channels first or even to the Emperor himself, but this good news gets delivered to the lowliest of hired workers: Sheep herders. Angel messengers announce this birth to simple folk, shepherds in their fields at night. God chose them to hear this good news first and to see it for themselves, rather than through those established rulers or emissaries or governors, who might (and did) perceive his birth as a threat. A threat? The two could not be farther apart.

God breaks into our world in the least expected ways to the least expected people, says Luke's Gospel. That idea remains as one Christmas gift that keeps on giving. That in Christ Jesus, God continues to break into our world in unexpected ways and to the least expected people: people like us. Year by year, like the shepherds leaving their flocks, like the families returning to their hometowns, we come to the manger turned cradle in Bethlehem to see for ourselves. What do we see in that manger? Do we look into it and see just a baby, or do we look into the child's eyes and see a glorious empire? Do we see a child, or do we see a king, a king of glory, a king of peace, a king of love?

The continuing gift of Christmas is that God comes to us in the least expected places, and can once again bring forth new life in us, even in less than desirable circumstances. Christmas always gives us the confidence that we can truly be born again, born anew, right where we stand. Only one thing remains to make tonight's experience of this most wonderful annual story and celebration complete.

Only one part of the story remains for our reflection: Where do we go from here? Now that we have visited Bethlehem, what do we do? For the shepherds, the experience of visiting that manger changed them. They saw and heard confirmation of what the angel messengers had told them. Then they returned to their fields, glorifying and praising God for all they had seen and heard. But Mary had a different reaction. Mary treasured all that she heard and pondered these things in her heart. I believe Luke intentionally gives us both responses to consider.

Some of us may wish to return to our fields (so to speak) glorifying and praising God for all we have heard and seen this night. Such joy, such enthusiasm, changes one's life and perspective, and can actually change the world with it. Yet others of us may wish to respond differently, as Mary did. Some of us may wish to savor it, to hold it, to treasure it-what a lovely description-and continue to think about it for days and weeks and maybe months or years to come. That extended meditation also produces deep and profound changes within one's heart and life. But both responses assume a change in one's perspective on the world. Whether the ruling power structures realize it or not, there's a new Savior in town, his name is Jesus, and the world has never been the same since that very first Christmas.

Think of that. Think of how many empires have come and gone throughout the world since the first Christmas. But the Kingdom of God continues to be born and reborn, one human heart at a time.

The modern Caesars and empires of this world will always rise and fall; Luke has already shown us that. But the birth of Jesus has, indeed, brought something, and continues to bring something, new into the world at Christmas: It brings us the hope of peace now and in the future, it brings us the hope of salvation now and for all people.

May this child of Bethlehem, born once again, continue to rule as the King of Love in your hearts and minds not only this Christmas Day but throughout the coming year.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

The Rev'd Timothy M. Dombek
ST. JAMES EPISCOPAL CHURCH
301 Piney Mountain Road
Greenville, SC 29609-3035
(864) 244-6358
stjamesrector@mindspring.com

Copyright © 2001 Timothy M. Dombek All Rights Reserved.