“I proclaim to you good news of great joy.” Luke 2:10
The story is told that on the day of Christ’s birth the Emperor Augustus consulted a prophetess, the Tiburtine Sibyl. The Roman Senate wished to name the Emperor a god because under him peace, in the estimation of many, had come to the world. The shrewd Emperor, knowing he was only a man, asked the prophetic Sibyl, whether the world one day would see the birth of a greater than he. At this moment, the prophetess saw a golden ring surrounding the sun and in the center of the circle stood a beautiful Virgin with a Child at her bosom. A voice was heard to say, “This woman is the Altar of Heaven.” Then, the Sibyl spoke to the Emperor, “This Child will be greater than you” (cf. 13th century, Jacobus de Voragine, The Golden Legend for the Feast of the Nativity).
Here in this story, poetry and the facts of history meet. Indeed, Caesar Augustus ruled at the time of Christ’s birth. To this St. Luke testifies in his Gospel. Whether he consulted the Sibyl may be fanciful, but in fact Augustus had been proclaimed a god and a temporary peace had descended upon the Roman Empire. Historians tell us the Romans called this time the Pax Romana. At this historic moment, in fulfillment of Jewish prophecies and the intent of God from the fall of Man, the true King, from whom a lasting peace will come, was born in Bethlehem of Judea. The story of the Sibyl is poetry to highlight what indeed happened: a Savior of the world, greater than any king, president, emperor, or earthly ruler was born. The wonder and awe of the birth of Jesus Christ remind us that God makes His greatness known first in the humblest of forms. The Son of God is born to a Virgin and placed in a feeding trough for animals, because “there was no room for them in the inn” (Luke 2:7). From what the world would consider insignificant would come the greatest of all.
When the angels appeared to the shepherds on that first Christmas night, they proclaimed “good news of great joy” (Luke 2:10). What is that good news shrouded in great joy? It is the Divine paradox—that from something so small comes something so great. This astounding truth has inspired countless artists, poets, composers, philosophers, and holy men and women for centuries. Angels burst forth from heaven, like a roaring army on a battlefield, and cry out, “Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests” (Luke 2:14). The joy of that moment cascades down the centuries to us on this holy night—in music, painting, and verse.
Such a moment of Divine paradox moved Shakespeare to write the following in one of his greatest plays:
Some say that ever ‘gainst that season comes
Wherein our Savior’s birth is celebrated,
The bird of dawning singeth all night long.
And then, they say, no spirit dare stir abroad.
The nights are wholesome. Then no planets strike,
No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm,
So hallowed and so gracious is that time.
(Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 1)
The spirit that brought Shakespeare to pen those words is the Christian spirit that moved the imagination of many a creative mind throughout the centuries to express the unfathomable. God takes what the world considers the least of all and by it transforms the world.
Thanks be to God! “[A] savior has been born for you who is Messiah and Lord” (Luke 2:11). He is a Savior to rescue us from this world of corruption. He brings us hope, He strengthens faith, and He instills love, all of which we so desperately need now in this time of war, animosity, and confusion. He is our joy, “so hallowed and so gracious.”
The Augustans of this world still have problems with this joy. To them the Divine paradox is a stumbling block for their pride. They relegate Christ to myth, seek to rob us of our happiness, and call false what is true and evil what is good. It is the sort of cultural and historic amnesia that prompts an Office of Diversity and Inclusion at a major university in this country to issue a “’best practices’ directive … to ‘ensure your holiday party is not a Christmas party in disguise’” (WSJ, “The Year Christmas Died,” A9, Thursday, December 24, 2015). In the old Soviet Union celebrating Christmas could find you jailed. In this country today it might find you unemployed, or at least reprimanded. The old tactics never die. Caesar Augustus still walks his gardens marveling at being called a god only to be shocked by the truth, that he is not. The conceit of worldly princes takes different forms, but they remain merely conceits. The celebration of Christmas is more than parties, Santa costumes, and egg nogg. Customs and “best practices” come and go. The truth, however, remains. Christmas is the Divine paradox, and it is we who must remove the veil from our eyes to see the elegant truth of its richness in poverty and elegance in simplicity.
The paradox comes from God Himself. He proclaimed it one night in Bethlehem of Judea, when a Virgin named Mary wrapped a small child “in swaddling clothes and laid him in a manger” (Luke 2:7). God offered the world His final Word in the wordless crying of a baby. “So hallowed and so gracious” was the night that nothing more was said. The angels left, the shepherds came, and stillness descended on the world. The Word had spoken. All was silent, “so hallowed and so gracious” was the night. May it be so for you and your families, as I wish you a Merry Christmas!
