Pax Christi: Worship the Baby, Not the Empire

They say politics and religion make strange bedfellows. While I certainly agree that religious governments—like, say, the ones we are having trouble with in the Middle East—are problematic, I think our enlightenment notions of religion being a private matter and politics a public matter should be reexamined in the light of the gospels. In fact, a reflection on the birth narrative might be a departure point with which we might think about what the gospel(s) have to say about the politics of Jesus.

In Luke 2 we read the story of the birth and the accompanying passages, which I can’t help but read with the voice of Linus from Charlie Brown’s Christmas. We all know the story: the census, the birth, the manger, and after Jesus was born, the angel appearing to shepherds in the countryside, telling them, “I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people,” which is the birth of Christ, the Lord. Afterwards a heavenly host breaks out in song, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests."

What interests me here is the amazing connection this story has with the political world of Mary, Joseph, and the baby. It is not hard to imagine, first of all, the alarms that would ring in the head of a Jew when he heard of the census. Kings, even pagan ones, were set in place by God, and God specifically forbids the use of a census by which a king might add up his power. Further, I think the use of the word gospel (often translated good news) connotes an overtly political meaning. This decree from Asia Minor in 9 B.C. shows just what the rest of the Roman world thought of when they heard the word gospel:

It is a day which we may justly count as equivalent to the beginning of everything—if not in itself and in its own nature, at any rate in the benefits it brings—inasmuch as it has restored the shape of everything that was failing and turning into misfortune, and has given a new look to the Universe at a time when it would gladly have welcomed destruction if Caesar had not been born to be the common blessing of all men...Whereas the Providence which has ordered the whole of our life, showing concern and zeal, has ordained the most perfect consummation for human life by giving to it Augustus, by filling him with virtue for doing the work of a benefactor among men, and by sending in him, as it were, a savior for us and those who come after us, to make war to cease, to create order everywhere...and whereas the birthday of the God [Augustus] was the beginning for the world of the glad tidings[a translation of the same word for gospel] that have come to men through him.

Thus, to proclaim a gospel other than Caesar flies in the face of Roman power. In a world where Caesar is savior, Rome is the order, and Pax Romana is hailed, heralding the birth of this child as savior, Lord, and bringer of peace would be subversive, if not downright rebellion. Pax Romana was indeed a great accomplishment of the Romans. In fact, the Roman Empire was great, that is, as long as you weren’t one of the 25-30% of the population who were in slavery, and as long as you weren’t a woman, and as long as you were not subject to the oppressive tax rates, such as those levied upon the Jews. It seems that the Pax Romana served the elite patricians, rather than the vast majority of the empire. With this in mind, we might read Mary’s Magnificat as a prophetic announcement of what the baby in her belly will do:
He has brought down rulers from their thrones
but has lifted up the humble.
He has filled the hungry with good things
but has sent the rich away empty.

Now, what do we do with all this political subversiveness of Jesus? I’m not sure, but I do have a few ideas. I think first of all that we balance it with the other ideas in Scripture that have to do with God instituting rulers. Thus, we must conclude that there is a place for governing authorities even when what they are doing is contrary to the kingdom of God. Second, I think it is okay when the subversive gospel that Christians preach comes at odds with what the government says. I know many of you will disagree with me here, but I think Scripture unequivocally calls for the good treatment of aliens and foreigners in the land (regardless of legitimacy). Perhaps this is a case in which the borders of God’s kingdom must be larger than the borders of the American Empire. Again, maybe being proclaiming the kingdom means disclaiming what the government says about abortion. Maybe it means that in a world where democracy has replaced Caesar as the “common blessing of all men,” we should remain at least skeptical. Jesus is Lord, not democracy. Again, maybe we should be subversive about economics in the kingdom of God. After all, while capitalism might be better than the other economic systems today, it seems that this system makes the rich richer and the poor poorer. Something might be inequitable with this system. The politics of the kingdom of God seemed to have something to say about economic equity; it seems that the early church, at least, thought it did. Capitalism is not Lord, Jesus is. I’ll, be honest, this reading of the gospel kind of scares me. I grew up with the whole Christianity-is-about-going-to-heaven teaching, and while the birth of Jesus certainly meant more than a political coup, I don’t think it was less than one. The working out of the gospel of Jesus has endless ramifications to how we live and breathe in all our spheres of life, political, economic, physical, social, and spiritual. I think though, that the gospel begins with one idea: we worship the baby, not the empire.