It almost happened by accident, that the prophecy was fulfilled. “AND THOU, BETHLEHEM Ephrata, art a little one among the thousands of Juda: out of thee shall he come forth unto me that is to be the ruler in Israel: and his going forth is from the beginning, from the days of eternity” (Micah 5:2). But Mary and Joseph did not live in Bethlehem. They lived in Nazareth. They set out on that fateful journey, in which the ancient prophecy is fulfilled as if by accident, because of an historical coincidence, a Roman emperor enrolling the whole known world in a census, for the first time in history.

          Even then, Mary and Joseph didn’t have to go to Bethlehem to be enrolled. Most likely, Joseph owned some small piece of property there that he inherited, and it was this that brought them to Bethlehem that night. An almost forgotten piece of family property, the slimmest tie to a tradition. But it was enough!

          For Augustus, that emperor who summoned the whole world to be enrolled, though, nothing was accidental. The first ever world census was possible because of a Roman empire that spanned the whole known world after generations of military conquest. As the ancient Christmas proclamation records, that night took place “in the one hundred and ninety-fourth Olympiad; in the year seven hundred and fifty-two since the foundation of the City of Rome; in the forty-second year of the reign of Caesar Octavian Augustus, the whole world being at peace.” Augustus understood the peace he had brought to the world in providential and salvific terms.

          Nine years before Christ’s birth, an inscription on a monument dedicated to Augustus tells how the day of the Emperor’s birth “gave the whole world a new aspect. Providence … sent him as a Savior both for us and our descendants … From his birth, a new reckoning of time must begin.” Or, as the poet Virgil recorded: “Now, all must change.” St. Luke brings this whole dramatic setting to bear on the Nativity story to remind us that Jesus is born not in the timelessness of myth, but in a real place and a real time, with real hopes and real fears, at the dawning of an age of promise.

          But there is a catch! When the ancient prophecies stand on the cusp of being fulfilled, not in the person of the Roman Emperor Augustus, but in a working-class couple from the absolute backwaters of that great empire, there is no room for Him! Or, as St. John tells us on Christmas morning: “He came unto his own, and his own received him not.”

          We can imagine the embarrassment of that town, and of that humble innkeeper, as the realization of what has happened dawns when the star comes to rest over the cave, and the shepherds come rushing, speaking of the joyful announcement of the angels. But look what the Lord does with even a little openness! In the stable, Christ accepts the smallest opening for the humble beginnings of His earthly life.

          And so we ask ourselves, is there room for Him? Is there room for Him in my life, in my family, in my day, in my week? Is there room for the same Christ hidden now not in a stable, but under the appearance of bread? Lying now not in the humility of the animals’ feeding trough, but desiring to give His flesh and blood to mortal men as true food and drink? The question, “Is there room for Him?” is not just a sentimental one, but refers to the concrete reality of my life.

          “Now there were shepherds in that region living in the fields and keeping the night watch over their flock. The angel of the Lord appeared to them and the glory of the Lord shone around them … And suddenly there was a multitude of the heavenly host with the angel, praising God and saying: ‘Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.’”

          On earth, peace. What Caesar Augustus claimed of himself – to be the Savior, the bringer of peace – is true rather of the infant Christ who has not conquered nations and peoples, but will conquer the darkness of sin by sacrificing Himself. And what the Roman poet Virgil writes of Augustus’s birth is also true, in a very different way than he expected: “Now, everything must change,” because the empire that brought Augustus’s peace is about to be turned on its head, made to see its real purpose in spreading the message of the true Savior.

          St. Luke tells us that the shepherds went in haste to see Mary, Joseph, and the child. How could they not, after beholding the glorious heavenly host! Will you make haste to ensure there is room for Him? The world that longed for a new beginning, the countless generations we heard enumerated in the Gospel of the Vigil of Christmas, somehow still rejected Him: “His own received Him not.” Perhaps because so much had already filled that place in their hearts, the savior of peace through empire and power.

          The new beginning Christ offers, though, was not a one-time affair. It is continually present, as each day brings new hope, and a new opportunity to make room for Him. The song of the angels echoes out continually whenever the Church sings the Gloria: Gloria in excelsis Deo, et in terra pax hominibus bonae voluntatis – Glory to God in the highest, and earth peace to people of good will. One of the joys of Christmas Mass is a very full church resounding together in those joyful words, but the Church makes them Her own every Sunday and feast day as we sing the Gloria together. They should resound with no less joy all year long! “The ‘glory’ of God is real, God is glorious, and this is truly a reason for joy: there is truth, there is goodness, there is beauty. It is there – in Jesus Christ – indestructibly” (Ratzinger, 74).

          His own may have received Him not, but, St. John continues, “as many as received him, he gave them power to be made the sons of God, to them that believe in his name.” Through the mystery of the Incarnation, Mary gave Him the human nature in which His greatest power would be realized: “The stable at Bethlehem was the first Calvary. The wooden manger was the first Cross. The swaddling bands were the first burial bands. The Passion had begun. Christ was man” (Houselander, p. 73). In His Resurrection in power, that human nature will be re-created and made anew, so that St. John’s words might be fulfilled, that “as many as received him, he gave them power to be made the sons of God.” If you will make room for Him – in your family, in your week, in your day, in the choices that you make and the priorities that drive your life – He will give you power too, power to live in a new way, “full of grace and truth.”

          The Emperor Augustus was right about one thing: Providence was guiding the course of human events to prepare for the most monumental event in the history of the world. Only it turned out to be the birth not of a great Caesar, but of a humble child in Bethlehem of Judah, the most forgotten and unimportant corner of Augustus’s great empire. The question for us now is: Will we follow Augustus in putting ourselves at the center of all Providence’s plans, or will there be room for Christ?

          The angel’s proclamation echoes in our hearts: “Do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord.” Do not be afraid to make room for Him, for only He will bring you true peace, and true joy!

The Rev. Royce V. Gregerson

Parish Church of Our Lady of Good Hope

Solemnity of the Nativity of the Lord, A.D. MMXXV