“In those days, a decree went out from Emperor Augustus that all the world should be registered.

This was the first registration and was taken while Quirinius was governor of Syria.”

–Luke 2:1-2

Those words open one of the most beloved passages in the Bible, Luke’s account of the events we will celebrate again over the next few weeks. Clearly, one of the gospel writer’s primary intent with those first lines was to place Jesus’ birth in a historic context. Most scholars think he got a few details mixed-up.

Non-Biblical sources record that Quirinius began his work as Syria’s governor in 6 A.D., a few years after Jesus’ birth. In addition, a registration or census in that era was usually conducted for the purpose of taxation. Since King Herod was tasked with collecting Rome’s taxes in Judea, it seems unlikely Augustus would have called for another headcount in the same region. There is no independent record of a census being ordered for the whole empire during that decade either.  Lastly, there is general agreement that the Roman process did not require persons to return to the town of their family origin. Still, Luke writes  “a decree went out from Emperor Augustus, that all the world should be registered,” that it was “while Quirinius was governor of Syria” and that Joseph went Nazareth to “Bethlehem, because he was descended from the house and family of David.”

There have been all kinds of efforts to reconcile Luke’s record with non-Biblical sources. Some suggest that Quirinius could have been governor for an earlier term. Augustus might have been double-checking Herod’s honesty by ordering a census. It’s possible there was a local requirement that persons return to their ancestral place for a census, too. Any one of those theories could be true, but I am more inclined to conclude that Luke, writing nearly 70 years after those events, was off on some of the finer points. That his ultimate purpose in telling us about Roman officials and a census was to point to something more important. If that conclusion is correct, then Luke’s familiar-but-inaccurate introduction offers a word of grace since our own observance of Christmas will likely include its own times of imprecision, too.   

That doesn’t stop us from hoping that this year all of the gifts will be received with joy. That this year everyone will get along. That this year no one will be called out to work and no one—not even a contentious uncle–will bring up politics. Such outcomes are certainly possible, yet Luke’s opening words give us permission to enjoy our own celebration despite any moments of imperfection in it. I personally find comfort in that possibility.                      

For the last few Decembers of my working years, I had all of my online gift purchases shipped to the church. In part, I did so because there was usually someone in the office on weekdays which meant the package would be inside on snowy days. In addition, that approach meant I didn’t run the risk of a gift’s recipient getting home before I did and seeing the box. Thus, when the packages arrived, I kept them in my office until the tree was up at home. When wrapping began, I would remove the gift from its box and place it in one that had nothing to do with its actual contents, just to build anticipation. Upon completion all of the gifts went under the tree. It was a terrific system that worked flawlessly until 2015.

Nine Decembers ago, I was wrapping gifts at home and could not find one for our daughter. Lori and I went back and checked emails, confirming that the item had been shipped and delivered to the church. I looked through the office and even my supplemental hiding places at home, but we could not find it. By that point, it was too late to order a replacement, so I finished my wrapping by including an empty box with a note inside saying that the present would be late. 

On Christmas, we were unwrapping gifts when Lori took the second one from me. Upon opening it, she said “I think this is for someone else!” and laughed as she handed it to our daughter. Not only had I tagged a present for the wrong person, but still thought I had purchased it for Lori. It was not my finest moment!  The next year, I enhanced my inventory control system. In three weeks or so I will see how I did this time. 

I suspect that experience had some influence in leading me to focus on the imprecision of Luke’s introduction this week, but believe my motivation to be greater than an effort to explain away my mental lapse from a decade ago. For even though I believe the gospel writer got some of the details at Jesus’ birth confused, Luke’s ultimate purpose still was far more significant.

For I suspect his naming that Jesus’ birth occurred in the time of Caesar Augustus, one praised for his Pax Romana or “Roman peace,” was Luke’s way of declaring that Mary’s baby was the Prince of Peace; one who would inaugurate God’s reign. I believe that Luke took the fuzzy memory of a Roman census and joined it with a misunderstanding of having to return to one’s homeland to explain why Joseph and Mary were in Bethlehem, thus fulfilling God’s promise to send one from the house and lineage of King David’s hometown. Luke was focused on more important things than getting all of the Roman political details straight. His imprecise introduction invites us to focus on what really matters, too. 

Thus, while I hope your Christmas experience in a few weeks is close to perfect, I encourage you to take some comfort from the imprecise details offered by Luke. And that you will yet again be moved by an amazing birth of long ago, even if it includes a mislabeled gift or two from you. 

Perfect One, as we prepare once again for your son’s birth, may we extend grace to ourselves even if this year’s celebration falls short of the ideal. Amen.