Homily

At the "Glory Be" in today's vesper stitchery, you noticed that text compares the Emperor Augustus and his rule with Christ the King and His rule. And that is a technique that St. Luke uses as he writes about the birth of Christ: "In those days Caesar Augustus published a decree ordering the census of the whole world. This census took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria."

The great Caesar Augustus was emperor of the whole world at least as far as his subjects were concerned—the wealthiest and most powerful man on earth. He had a palace and a number of villas. He could choose which home he wanted to live in and he didn't even have to pay property tax. People paid their taxes to him. Caesar had a small army of slaves to take care of all his properties, handle all the manual labor, and take care of the Emperor and his family as Caesar saw fit. There was nothing he could not afford, no material pleasure or goods that he could not enjoy. But this is not Caesar's story.

Another king has come. He is of the line of King David, and yet He has no palace, no servants or slaves, no wealth, no comfort of home; in fact His first bed is where the animals come to eat their hay and grain. He is in complete poverty and although a king He is entirely dependent on His mother and Joseph. In the eyes of the world there is absolutely nothing to see here.

An angel suddenly appears before a small group of lowly Shepherds nearby and terrifies them with his presence. This is not a chubby-cheeked Gerber baby angel with two little wings and no body. This is not some gorgeous, beautiful blond-haired Miss America angel. This angel was scary-looking in his magnificent power. That's why he tells the shepherds not to be afraid. This angel has the very good news that a savior has been born. He is Messiah and Lord. He is Messiah and the real Caesar. He is not what people would expect, this small royalty lying in a food trough. The rich and powerful are not invited to pay Him their respects. Instead this King's first audience is a band of very low status shepherds.

Caesar Augustus has his armies, the legendary Legions of Rome who have conquered the known world, who keep the peace and the people in control even as they protect the emperor and those who are in his favor.

The small king in Bethlehem has a heavenly army of angels, any band of which could defeat all the Roman soldiers throughout the entire empire. But this army of angels has not come to do battle; it has not come to protect its leader and Lord. It has only come to do two things: announce the birth of Christ, and praise the God of all. Then they are gone. Augustus Caesar will soon be declared a divine person after his death—another god for the Romans. But the little king in Bethlehem is Son of God not by the decree of the Roman senate, but by his very nature and essence, and He is God-Come-In-The-Flesh for the whole world.

Augustus has his own postal system and an advanced method of sending and receiving news from all over the empire. Jesus has only a band of scruffy shepherds to tell of His coming. Augustus spends his whole life trying to enforce his will, to achieve his goals, and he uses threats, violence, money, status, power and all the typical kingly methods to bring his desires to fulfillment whether his subjects want it or not.

Jesus uses none of these. Although He is Lord of the Universe none of His subjects are forced to fall under His reign. They are simply invited to come and follow Him. One king wears a crown of gold; the other will wear a crown of thorns. One king sits on a throne and another king will rest under the placard stating the He is a king, a king nailed to the cross.

The emperor of Rome at the height of its power—who would not want to have a life like his with all the wealth, the power, the pleasure—to hold a status and position that is even greater than the winner of American Idol?

The other king teaches and lives something very different. None of that stuff matters. None of it! The greatest life a person can live is the divine life that comes from God, a life that is focused and based on pouring out love—love for God, love for one another, as He Himself poured out His life for the salvation of the world, for the forgiveness of our sins and for our life everlasting in the joy of the presence of God.

The same lies about the nature of human life and the source of human satisfaction that were held in Caesar's time are the same lies that attract and tempt us today even as subjects of the kingdom of God because we struggle to accept the idea, fully and completely, that the love of God is why we were created and only in His love, as we pour out ourselves in love, do we find the fullness of life, the perfection of our humanity.

We are so tempted to live our lives like a Caesar salad. If I had fresher lettuce, more parmesan cheese, a little less lemon, a farm fresh egg and you toss me gently, my life would be great. So we go looking for all the right ingredients in just-the-way-we-like-it-proportions and yet no matter how hard we struggle at it we are still not satisfied. The values of Caesar always, without exception bring degradation, suffering and death for we were not made for them. We were made for love. We were made for divine life. We were made to belong to Christ.

Let's counteract the cry of the crowd outside Pontius Pilate's house 2,000 years ago. We have a choice like that crowd did to declare who we want to rule over us, Caesar or Christ. Let this crowd here tonight answer spiritually with conviction, with strength and with renewed purpose and dedication; let us answer "We have no king but Jesus." And as we bow to Him let us ask Him to draw us closer to Himself.