*This article was originally published by RealClear Religion
How is God speaking to you?
Certainly, divine revelation can pour through sermons, the arts, music, charitable works, other people, and prayer. Most often, as the Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches, “God speaks to man in a human way” through Sacred Scripture; and Jesus Christ is the Word “incarnate and living.”
But God still needs an audience — and we are not a ‘captive’ people due to the gift of free will. However, if one believes in Scripture’s historical account, he is more than capable of meeting humanity where we are at, making his loving presence and judgment known.
While Advent is a season of joy and anticipation, it is also rife with materialism and cynicism: a virgin impregnated by a god? Did not Zeus do likewise? And Jesus, the Son of God, is that not like the countless demi-gods throughout Greek Mythology? Did shepherds and Magi, bearing gifts, follow a star illuminating the newborn king’s birthplace on that silent night two millenniums ago?
It seems preposterous. Ridiculous even. Yet the Nativity is recounted in the opening chapters of Luke’s Gospel. If the Catechism is correct, “God inspired the human authors of the sacred books,” which “teach the truth,” and further emphasizes, “God is the author of Sacred Scripture.”
So, who was St. Luke, the human author of the attributed book? According to the Dictionary of Saints, which references early historians, such as Eusebius and Jerome, Luke was “probably a Greek and may have come from Antioch.” A physician, he traveled with St. Paul in the early missionary days of the Church, from Philippi in Macedonia to Rome, among other locations around the Mediterranean.
Luke was most likely a Gentile, or a non-Jew. Yet, at some point in his life, he felt compelled to compile a narrative of Christ’s life. As he writes, “I too have decided, after investigating everything accurately anew, to write [his life] down in an orderly sequence for you, most excellent Theophilus, so that you may realize the certainty of the teachings you have received.”
Mark and John’s Gospels do not begin with Christ’s birth, but with his baptism by John the Baptist. Matthew provides a Nativity account, focusing primarily on the Magi and the Holy Family’s flight to Egypt, escaping King Herod’s wrath. Luke, however, expands on Christ’s virgin birth, retelling the Annunciation and Mary’s reaction that she would bear the Savior of the World. Moreover, he gives a rationale for Christ’s birth in Bethlehem (i.e., St. Joseph was complying with a census ordered by Caesar Augustus). Further still, in his Gospel, the angels appeared to shepherds, proclaiming “for to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is Christ the Lord.” Finally, to accentuate Christ’s humble origins, Luke writes that Mary wrapped her first-born son in “swaddling cloths, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn.”
Objectively, Luke’s Gospel — compared to Matthew’s — emphasizes the imagery and drama preceding and culminating in the Nativity. Why?
Luke was speaking to multiple audiences: Romans and Greeks. To the former, as Bishop Robert Barron, founder of Word on Fire, suggests, “[Luke] was cognizant of the fact that he was proposing a different vision and defending the prerogatives of a different King,” not named Caesar. Christ is, then, a direct affront to worldly power and might. As Bishop Barron again points out:
“…‘host’ or ‘multitude,’ literally means army. The only reason that Augustus Caesar was able to dominate the world is that he had the biggest army, but Luke is saying that the baby king actually possesses a bigger army, though it is one that fights, not with the weapons (arma) of the world, but with those of heaven.”
In this way, Luke’s Gospel is a historical, political and spiritual text. Even the word Gospel, once reserved for proclamations of Roman victories in battle, was subverted, and given a new meaning by Christ’s life, death and resurrection. Indeed, the ‘gospel’ is the victory over sin and death, and Christ “makes all things new.”
But what about the Greeks, Luke’s brethren?
The political themes, aimed at the Roman Empire and rulers throughout history, may not have resonated with the Greeks as much — but clearly they heeded Luke’s preaching. Greek influence is intrinsic in the Catholic Church and Christianity. As Robert Royal asserted in The Catholic Thing, “But Greek culture was also crucial. Not only were the Gospels and other [New Testament] texts written in Greek, much of the thinking in the early Church used the Greek language, but also Greek philosophical notions, to give a rational account of the faith.” Numerous words are derived from Greek, including Christ (Christos, meaning “anointed one”), Catholic (Katholikos, meaning “universal”), Eucharist (Eucharistia, meaning “thanksgiving”) to name only a few. The Bible Catholics use today was based on the Septuagint, the “Greek version of the Hebrew Old Testament and the first known translation of the Bible outside of its original language.” And many Greek Christians, such as the 20,000 who were martyred in Nicomedia, in 303 A.D., sacrificed their lives for the faith — for the same Jesus Christ miraculously born in a Bethlehem stable.
To them, Christ’s life was no mere myth, but reality. Here was not only a god, but the God who loved humanity, rather than one who toyed with them as pawns like the Greek gods and goddesses. In Christianity, humanity was not disposable; and Jesus died for creation, as opposed to the people dying to please the gods. In this way, the Christian God was radically different.
Yet Christ’s birth shares similarities to Greek myths — but was that purposeful? Just as God subverted the Roman Empire’s rule, did he, in his divine providence, turn the Greek myths on their head? After all, as the Catechism states, God is an author. He is an artist, deploying literary devices like parallels, symbolism and foreshadowing, with setups and payoffs, throughout the Old and New Testaments. (Jesus’ parables certainly demonstrate the mastery of effective storytelling.) Therefore, for him to use already established and popular story frameworks like those in Greek myths, but transform them into something illuminating and true, cannot be completely dismissed. In essence, Christ’s birth mirrored the Greek myths to draw the Gentiles’ attention to the Gospel, while revealing his awesome majesty in time and in history.
Indeed, truth is stranger than fiction. The cynic, therefore, misses the point when trying to dismiss Christ’s divinity — or as a real figure who walked the earth — when highlighting the similarities between the Nativity and Greek myths. God, through St. Luke, knew exactly who he was speaking toward: to the Gentiles who starved for a Creator who truly loved them. He expressed this love in a way that resonated with those unfamiliar to his voice. Luke converted after hearing Christ’s story. So have billions hence.
Humans love a good story, and the Nativity, two thousand years later, still remains as beautiful and powerful as ever, inspiring Christians and today’s “Gentiles” to awe, wonder, love and hope.
So, it’s time to ask this Advent season, how is God speaking to you today?
Have a blessed Advent and a Merry Christmas!