How God’s power really works (Luke 2:1-7)

My father worked in import-export during the Communist era in Hungary. He was an avid reader, particularly of history, and on business trips abroad he often bought books that the regime would not allow in the country because of their opposing ideology. After one such trip, Dad’s luggage was searched, and his books were confiscated. This was a serious matter as banned material could lose him his job and stop him from further travel. He waited to hear from the censor with bated breath, but the days turned into weeks and still there was no news. If no decision was made in 30 days, owners could reclaim their material and Dad duly went to the censor’s office when the time was up. He discovered that the censor assigned to his case was taken ill without even starting the investigation. His books were returned intact, and the incident passed without repercussions. God is sovereign over earthly powers and circumstances.

Rome: an ungodly power

Luke’s report of Jesus’ birth also reflects God’s sovereignty and sheds light on the dynamic of power and powerlessness. The account opens with a mention of Caesar Augustus (Luke 2:1), the Roman emperor who was identified as son of god and saviour.[1] God’s people lived under the rule of a pagan power that boastfully claimed divine titles for itself. Luke highlights the words ‘registration’ (NASB ‘census’) and ‘registered’ by repetition (Luke 2:1, 2, 3, 5), an event that Jews associated with self-reliance and arrogance because it involved taking stock of one’s resources rather than trusting God (cf. 2 Sam 24:2-3, 10). The census probably also involved paying some tax and underlined for Israel that their lives were controlled by an ungodly force and a powerful one.

Jesus’ parents: humble circumstances

For Joseph and the heavily pregnant Mary it was an inconvenient time to travel, but they had no choice. Whether women needed to be registered as well or Joseph simply took Mary to look after her around the birth is uncertain, but whatever the reason, the couple made the over 100 km journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem where Joseph’s family came from (Luke 2:4). Although Jerusalem is called the city of David in the OT, Bethlehem was clearly known as such locally (v.4) emphasising the connection to David’s ancestral home. The stage then is set for Messiah to be born in the place of God’s intention in fulfilment of prophecy (Mic 5:2). What looks like the boastful intention of a powerful ruler turns out to be furthering the purposes of God.

Despite Joseph’s royal lineage, the couple’s circumstances were rather humble. He would have had family in town, but by the time Joseph and Mary arrived, the guestroom of a relative’s home had already been taken.[2] What is mistakenly translated as ‘no room in the inn’ (Luke 2:7) is actually no ‘space’ (topos) in the ‘guest room’ (katalyma, see its use in Luke 22:11; a commercial inn is pandocheion as in Luke 10:34). The sparse details given about the birth suggest a peasant house,[3] which would have consisted of a separate guest room and a living room with a raised platform where the family ate, lived, and slept. At one end but off the platform would have been the animals (the family cow, sheep, goat, kept indoors at night for safety). Mangers were dug out of the platform near the animals allowing them to feed at night. It is such a manger that was likely used for the new-born Jesus.

God’s power in the here and now

What becomes clear in Jesus’ birth is that the reversal of power and weakness as described in Mary’s Song (Luke 1:46-55) is less straightforward than what it seems. It is not simply a matter of the weak and lowly who trust in God trading places with the rich and powerful who do not, though ultimately that is also in view. Rather, God’s power and sovereignty already works itself out in the here and now through those who are weak and insignificant. The Lord is not limited by our circumstances and power does not simply belong to those who wield a sword or hold a sceptre.

---

[1] James R. Edwards cites an inscription from Halicarnassus that describes Augustus in those terms. The Gospel according to Luke, Pillar NTC (Grand Rapids: Eerdmans, 2015), 68.

[2] The details I explain in this paragraph come from the cultural studies of Kenneth E. Bailey, who grew up in Egypt and lived in the Middle East for sixty years where he taught the New Testament extensively in seminaries and other institutions. He also points out that hospitality is so ingrained in the Middle East that the idea that a relative, especially one with a pregnant wife (whatever the circumstances of conception), would have been left to fend for himself and his family is unheard of. It is also unlikely that a small place like Bethlehem that was not on a major route would have a commercial inn. Further, Jesus’ birth did not happen on the day the couple arrived (Luke 2:6), so the birth did not create the urgency where any accommodation would have done. His findings have been incorporated into most modern commentaries though the mistaken idea about an inn persists and is reinforced by nativity plays, Christmas cards and the like. Jesus through Middle Eastern Eyes: Cultural Studies in the Gospels (London: SPCK, 2008), 25-37.

[3] Not only was Joseph’s wider family of a lower economic status, Joseph and Mary were poor as well, indicated by the offering they brought for Mary’s purification (Luke 2:22-24). Normally the law required a lamb and a pigeon/turtledove, but those who could not afford a lamb could substitute it with another pigeon/turtledove (Lev 8:6-8).

If you enjoyed this post, please share it with others.