Oops!
A Christmas after a national election often feels different than other Christmases. Why? Because during an election year, our thoughts are occupied with questions of leadership: Who will best lead our nation to prosperity? Who can strengthen the economy, protect us, and create opportunities for all? Put simply, we ask: Who can save us? Who do we trust? Who do we believe in?
But here’s the irony: Christmas, especially in a year like this, invites us to reconsider those questions on a deeper level. It calls us to reflect on a kind of leadership that transcends politics and power, a kind of salvation that no earthly leader can offer. In fact, a Christmas following an election cycle makes the Gospel story come alive in ways we often overlook.
Ugh!
We usually miss it, but the story of Jesus’s birth is profoundly political. It begins by naming Caesar Augustus, hailed as the savior of the Roman world, the one who ushered in the Pax Romana, the Roman peace. Caesar’s power was on full display, as the entire empire was forced to participate in a census. This was a stark reminder of his authority, his control, his dominion over the “entire world.” The census wasn’t just about numbers—it was a declaration of Caesar’s supremacy, a reminder to every subject of their submission to the empire.
It is into this world, this world of power and domination, that Jesus is born. To call Jesus the “Savior” was to challenge Caesar’s claim to that title. To call Jesus a “King” was to undermine the authority of Herod, Caesar’s puppet ruler in Judea. This was no mere sentimental tale of a baby in a manger. It was an act of divine defiance, a subversion of the world’s order.
No wonder Herod, gripped by fear, sought to kill this child. His violent response echoed Pharaoh’s slaughter of the innocents in Egypt during Moses’s time. Both were acts of desperation by rulers clinging to their power, willing to sacrifice the innocent to preserve their control.
This is the peace the world offers: a peace enforced by violence, sustained by fear, and built on the suffering of the vulnerable. It’s a false peace that demands our allegiance but delivers only misery. It’s the peace of empires and tyrants, and it’s a peace that will never satisfy the deepest longings of our hearts.
Aha!
And yet, the Christmas story declares that there is another way. It proclaims that salvation does not come from the halls of power or the might of empires. It comes from God alone.
When Pharaoh sought to destroy Moses, the child could not save himself. God intervened, preserving Moses to lead his people out of slavery. When Herod sought to destroy Jesus, the infant could not defend himself. God intervened again, guiding the Holy Family to safety so that Jesus could fulfill his mission of redemption.
In both stories, we see a pattern: the world’s rulers wield their power to destroy, but God’s power is revealed in saving the powerless. Moses led the Israelites out of Egypt, and Jesus leads us out of sin and death. Both point us toward the Promised Land—a place not defined by geography but by union with God.
Whee!
The Christmas story challenges us to place our trust, not in the rulers of this world, but in the God who entered this world as a vulnerable child. It warns us to be cautious of aligning too closely with earthly powers, lest we become complicit in their injustices. And it invites us to live with a radical trust in God’s grace and guidance.
What does this trust look like in our lives? Scripture tells us that Christ’s coming reveals the universal pattern of God’s love: a love that is always self-emptying, always moving toward union, always inviting us into deeper communion with one another and with God. To trust in this love is to live in a way that reflects God’s kingdom—a kingdom not of domination, but of service; not of fear, but of hope; not of scarcity, but of abundance.
Yeah!
This hope transforms us. It frees us from the illusions of power and security that the world offers. It opens our eyes to the dignity of every person, especially the marginalized and the vulnerable. It compels us to act with compassion, to seek justice, and to live in peace.
As we celebrate this Christmas season, we remember that the true Savior does not come with the pomp of emperors or the might of armies. He comes as a child, born in humility, bringing a peace that the world cannot give. May this peace fill our hearts and guide our lives, so that we may become instruments of God’s love in a world still longing for redemption.
Amen.