Senatus Populusque Americae?

Readers of this blog may know the following things about me:

  1. I’m not a fan of George W. Bush
  2. I’ve compared the U.S.A. to the Roman Empire
  3. I believe in a strict interpretation of the just war doctrine that proscribes
    war in most cases.
  4. I didn’t agree with the invasion of Iraq. In fact, I participated in a large anti-war rally in Pittsburgh.
  5. I dislike the fact that the Church co-opted pagan winter celebrations with Christmas in a bid to gain more converts.
  6. I loathe the commercialization of Christmas by Christians. Let the pagans, heathens, and faithful of other religions spend their money how they please. We should be following the examples of Christ and His apostles.

Knowing these things, a reader might be led to believe that I’d agree with the conclusions
presented in “The
politics of the Christmas story” by James Carroll of the Boston Globe
.
That reader would be wrong.

THE SINGLE most important fact about the birth of Jesus, as recounted in the Gospels, is one that receives

almost no emphasis in the American festival of Christmas. The child who was born in Bethlehem represented a

drastic political challenge to the imperial power of Rome. The nativity story is told to make the point that

Rome is the enemy of God, and in Jesus, Rome’s day is over.

The single most important fact about Jesus’ birth is His opposition to Roman imperialism?!? What Church does

this guy go to? First of all, God is a lot bigger than Roman or Palestinian concerns. Secondly, the most

important fact about Jesus’ birth is that He can to save all mankind by reconsiling us to Himself. Satan is the

enemy of God and even he is only a fallen angel and no real match. Rome was but a minor annoyance. The Jews

expected the Messiah to be a warrior king who would lead them out of oppression and establish an indestructable

Jewish state. They were thinking too small.

The nativity story was not told to villify Rome and celebrate its impending doom. It was to spread the good

news of Jesus Christ. Remember, both gospels were written after the destruction of the temple in AD 70.

Freeing Israel from Rome (or the next conquering people to come along) was basically a lost cause. Besides, at

this point, those who were disciples of Jesus knew He didn’t come as a warrior king and He wouldn’t return as

one either.

The Gospel of Matthew builds its nativity narrative around Herod’s determination to kill the

baby, whom he recognizes as a threat to his own political sway. The Romans were an occupation force in

Palestine, and Herod was their puppet-king. To the people of Israel, the Roman occupation, which preceded the

birth of Jesus by at least 50 years, was a defilement, and Jewish resistance was steady. (The historian Josephus

says that after an uprising in Jerusalem around the time of the birth of Jesus, the Romans crucified 2,000

Jewish rebels.)

This much is basically true, but an important point was missed. God didn’t want to the Hebrew people to be

governed by kings. They begged and He relented. To paraphrase C.S. Lewis, there are those who would have God’s

will done and others who ask God for enough rope to hang themselves. Jesus’ birth was the herald of a new

kingship and the end of the Jewish monarchy. Rome was just another captor in a long line of them. God used

conquering peoples to put Israel back in line after they’d turned from Him.

Herod was right to feel insecure on his throne. In order to preempt any challenge from the

rumored newborn “king of the Jews,” Herod murdered “all the male children who were 2 years old or

younger.” Joseph, warned in a dream, slipped out of Herod’s reach with Mary and Jesus. Thus, right from his

birth, the child was marked as a political fugitive.

There’s nothing glaringly wrong about this paragraph, but I’m uncomfortable with putting such a narrow label

on the Savior of the World. We’re not talking about Trotski, here.

The Gospel of Luke puts an even more political cast on the story. The narrative begins with the

decree of Caesar Augustus calling for a world census — a creation of tax rolls that will tighten the empire’s

grip on its subject peoples. It was Caesar Augustus who turned the Roman republic into a dictatorship, a

power-grab he reinforced by proclaiming himself divine.

To me this doesn’t seem to be political motivation on Luke’s part, but a desire to set a historical backdrop

and explain how Jesus, a Nazarene, came to be born in Bethlehem (the Messiah was prophesied to be born

there).

His census decree is what requires the journey of Joseph and the pregnant Mary to Bethlehem, but

it also defines the context of their child’s nativity as one of political resistance. When the angel announces

to shepherds that a “savior has been born,” as scholars like Richard Horsley point out, those hearing

the story would immediately understand that the blasphemous claim by Caesar Augustus to be “savior of the

world” was being repudiated.

Again Carroll tries to force Jesus into the political pigeon hole he’s used to. Jesus is neither general nor

politician, and yet He is king. I doubt the Jewish shepherds that heard the good news ever really entertained

the possibility that Caesar was the savior – theirs or the world’s. Neither did Jesus ever attempt to rule men

in the earthly way Caesar did. When Pilate asked Him if we was king of the Jews, He replied that His kingdom is

not of this world. The annunciation to the shepherds was not propaganda but evangelization.

When Jesus was murdered by Rome as a political criminal — crucifixion was the way such rebels

were executed — the story’s beginning was fulfilled in its end. But for contingent historical reasons (the

savage Roman war against the Jews in the late first century, the gradual domination of the Jesus movement by

Gentiles, the conversion of Constantine in the early fourth century) the Christian memory deemphasized the

anti-Roman character of the Jesus story. Eventually, Roman imperialism would be sanctified by the church, with

Jews replacing Romans as the main antagonists of Jesus, as if he were not Jewish himself. (Thus, Herod is

remembered more for being part-Jewish than for being a Roman puppet.)

Jesus was a political criminal? Perhaps He was in the eyes of the Jewish authorities, but to Rome He was

just a nuissance. Pilate didn’t want to crucify Him. He’d broken no Roman laws. If the Jewish priests hadn’t

threatened to “tattle” on Pilate to the Emperor (who was already mad at Pilate), Jesus probably would

have only received a beating before being handed back over to the Jewish authorities. Gradual domination of the

Jesus movement by Gentiles? Jesus is Savior of all, not just the Jews. This was revealed to the apostles by

God, all of whom were Jewish. If “the Jesus story” had such an anti-Roman character, Simon the Zealot

would have convinced Jesus to change His tune. He didn’t. Jesus’s life, death, and resurrection weren’t about

earthly power. The Jews had been freed from physical bondage several times before and learned little from it.

Jesus came to free them, and all of humanity, from their sins. When it was safe to follow Jesus openly, the

Church adapted to the prevailing culture, which at the time was Roman. Imperialism was never sanctified by the

Church. The Kingdom of Heaven is not a country, province, or state. The empire the Church desires to cultivate

consists of faithful hearts, not subjects, slaves, or vassals.

In modern times, religion and politics began to be understood as occupying separate spheres, and

the nativity story became spiritualized and sentimentalized, losing its political edge altogether.

“Peace” replaced resistance as the main motif. The baby Jesus was universalized, removed from his

decidedly Jewish context, and the narrative’s explicit critiques of imperial dominance and of wealth were

blunted.

Geez, the way this guy writes you’d think the gospels were propaganda tracts rather than catechising tools.

While I agree that the story of Christ’s birth doesn’t have the same “punch” it probably once have,

I’d argue that it was never meant to be something so narrow as mere resistance to imperialism and wealth. The

Jews expected a conquering hero. They expected an earthly kingdom, wealth, freedom from earthly oppression,

power, and a kindgom that would never end. What they got was so different and so much more. They got the King

of Kings and Lord of Lords, who conquered death, gives us wealth of grace, freedom from sin, and power to work

miracles, and everlasting life in the Kingdom of Heaven.

This is how it came to be that Christmas in America has turned the nativity of Jesus on its head.

No surprise there, for if the story were told today with Roman imperialism at its center, questions might arise

about America’s new self-understanding as an imperial power. A story of Jesus born into a land oppressed by a

hated military occupation might prompt an examination of the American occupation of Iraq. A story of Jesus come

decidedly to the poor might cast a pall over the festival of consumption. A story of the Jewishness of Jesus

might undercut the Christian theology of replacement.

At last it comes out. The whole point of this article was to make a point about politics in America in the

21st century, not in Jerusalem in the 1st. I’m not going to debate whether we are or are not an imperial power.

I will, however, refute the suggestion that the U.S. is hated by all Iraqis. There is a loud minority, not

unlike the crowd that shouted for Jesus’ crucifixion, that is ungrateful for the removal of a despot. I do

agree that Christmas has become a festival of consumption. However, the nativity story alone will not do much

to change that. It’s true that Jesus was born in a stable and placed in a manger (a feeding trough for animals

– foreshadowing of the Eucharist), and that the good news of His birth was announced to lowly shepherds rather

than the elite and powerful. It’s also true that three magi visited Him and lavished Him with gifts of gold,

myrrh, and frankinsense. The shepherds gave what offerings they could and so did the magi. If you want to

combat consumerism and commercialism, look to Jesus’ adult life. There’s plenty of ammunition there.

Today the Roman empire is recalled mainly as a force for good — those roads, language, laws,

civic magnificence, “order” everywhere. The United States of America also understands itself as acting

in the world with good intentions, aiming at order. “New world order,” as George H.W. Bush put

it.

While I don’t doubt people admire Roman art, architecture, and thought, I don’t think the general consensus

is that Rome was a “force for good”. I think most educated people understand that Rome was wrong for

conquering people and “civilizing” them “for their own good”. The Bushes and others may see

America as duty-bound to establish democratic order across the globe in Roman fashion, but what does Jesus’

birth have to do with that? Why did we just read ten paragraphs of bad history, bad exegesis, and bad theology

to learn about that which we could find in any liberal newspaper or on any liberal news station? I’ve read

better comparisons of America to Rome and better criticisms of Republican Christianity. To paraphrase Billy Madison: Everyone who reads the Boston Globe is now dumber for having read your article. I award you no points,

and may God have mercy on your soul.

That we have this in common with Rome is caught by the Latin motto that appears just below the

engraved pyramid on each American dollar bill, “Novus Ordo Seculorum.” But, as Iraq reminds us, such

“order” comes at a cost, far more than a dollar. The price is always paid in blood and suffering by

unseen “nobodies” at the bottom of the imperial pyramid. It is their story, for once, that is being

told this week.

I have another Latin phrase that describes this last paragraph: non sequitur

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About Funky Dung

Who is Funky Dung? 29-year-old grad student in Intelligent Systems (A.I.) at the University of Pittsburgh. I consider myself to be politically moderate and independent and somewhere between a traditional and neo-traditional Catholic. I was raised Lutheran, spent a number of years as an agnostic, and joined the Catholic Church at the 2000 Easter Vigil. Why Funky Dung? I haven't been asked this question nearly as many times as you or I might expect. Funky Dung is a reference to an obscure Pink Floyd song. On the album Atom Heart Mother, there is a track called Atom Heart Mother Suite. It's broken up into movements, like a symphony, and one of the movements is called Funky Dung. I picked that nickname a long time ago (while I was still in high school I think), shortly after getting an internet connection for the first time. To me it means "cool/neat/groovy/spiffy stuff/crap/shiznit", as in "That's some cool stuff, dude!" Whence Ales Rarus? I used to enjoy making people guess what this means, but I've decided to relent and make it known to all. Ales Rarus is a Latin play on words. "Avis rarus" means "a rare bird" and carries similar meaning to "an odd fellow". "Ales" is another Latin word for bird that carries connotations of omens, signs of the times, and/or augery. If you want to get technical, both "avis" and "ales" are feminine (requiring "rara", but they can be made masculine in poetry (which tends to breaks lots of rules). I decided I'd rather have a masculine name in Latin. ;) Yeah, I'm a nerd. So what? :-P Wherefore blog? It is my intention to "teach in order to lead others to faith" by being always "on the lookout for occasions of announcing Christ by word, either to unbelievers . . . or to the faithful" through the "use of the communications media". I also act knowing that I "have the right and even at times a duty to manifest to the sacred pastors [my] opinion on matters which pertain to the good of the Church, and [I] have a right to make [my] opinion known to the other Christian faithful, with due regard to the integrity of faith and morals and reverence toward [my and their] pastors, and with consideration for the common good and the dignity of persons." (adapted from CCC 904-907) Statement of Faith I have been baptized and confirmed in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I, therefore, renounce Satan; I renounce all his works; I renounce all his allurements. I hold and profess all that is contained in the Apostles' Creed, the Niceno- Constantinopolitan Creed, and the Athanasian Creed. Having been buried with Christ unto death and raised up with him unto a new life, I promise to live no longer for myself or for that world which is the enemy of God but for him who died for me and rose again, serving God, my heavenly Father, faithfully and unto death in the holy Catholic Church. I am obedient to the Magisterium of the Catholic Church. That is, I promote and defend authentic Catholic Teaching and Faith in union with Christ and His Church and in union with the Holy Father, the Bishop of Rome, the Successor of St. Peter. Thanks be unto Thee, O my God, for all Thy infinite goodness, and, especially, for the love Thou hast shown unto me at my Confirmation. I Give Thee thanks that Thou didst then send down Thy Holy Spirit unto my soul with all His gifts and graces. May He take full possession of me for ever. May His divine unction cause my face to shine. May His heavenly wisdom reign in my heart. May His understanding enlighten my darkness. May His counsel guide me. May His knowledge instruct me. May His piety make me fervent. May His divine fear keep me from all evil. Drive from my soul, O Lord, all that may defile it. Give me grace to be Thy faithful soldier, that having fought the good fight of faith, I may be brought to the crown of everlasting life, through the merits of Thy dearly beloved Son, our Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen. Behind the Curtain: an Interview With Funky Dung (Thursday, March 03, 2005) I try to avoid most memes that make their way 'round the blogosphere (We really do need a better name, don't we?), but some are worth participating in. Take for instance the "interview game" that's the talk o' the 'sphere. I think it's a great way to get to know the people in neighborhood. Who are the people in your neighborhood? In your neighborhod? In your neigh-bor-hoo-ood...*smack* Sorry, Sesame Street flashback. Anyhow, I saw Jeff "Curt Jester" Miller's answers and figured since he's a regular reader of mine he'd be a good interviewer. Without further ado, here are my answers to his questions. 1. Being that your pseudonym Funky Dung was chosen from a Pink Floyd track on Atom Heart Mother, what is you favorite Pink Floyd song and why? Wow. That's a tuffy. It's hard to pick out a single favorite. Pink Floyd isn't really a band known for singles. They mostly did album rock and my appreciation of them is mostly of a gestalt nature. If I had to pick one, though, it'd be "Comfortably Numb". I get chills up my spine every time I hear it and if it's been long enough since the last time, I get midty-eyed. I really don't know why. That's a rather unsatisfying answer for an interview, so here are the lyrics to a Rush song. It's not their best piece of music, but the lyrics describe me pretty well.

New World Man He's a rebel and a runner He's a signal turning green He's a restless young romantic Wants to run the big machine He's got a problem with his poisons But you know he'll find a cure He's cleaning up his systems To keep his nature pure Learning to match the beat of the old world man Learning to catch the heat of the third world man He's got to make his own mistakes And learn to mend the mess he makes He's old enough to know what's right But young enough not to choose it He's noble enough to win the world But weak enough to lose it --- He's a new world man... He's a radio receiver Tuned to factories and farms He's a writer and arranger And a young boy bearing arms He's got a problem with his power With weapons on patrol He's got to walk a fine line And keep his self-control Trying to save the day for the old world man Trying to pave the way for the third world man He's not concerned with yesterday He knows constant change is here today He's noble enough to know what's right But weak enough not to choose it He's wise enough to win the world But fool enough to lose it --- He's a new world man...
2. What do you consider your most important turning point from agnosticism to the Catholic Church. At some point in '99, I started attending RCIA at the Pittsburgh Oratory. I mostly went to ask a lot of obnoxious Protestant questions. Or at least that's what I told myself. I think deep down I wanted desperately to have faith again. At that point I think I'd decided that if any variety of Christianity had the Truth, the Catholic Church did. Protestantism's wholesale rejection of 1500 years of tradition didn't sit well with me, even as a former Lutheran. During class one week, Sister Bernadette Young (who runs the program) passed out thin booklet called "Handbook for Today's Catholic". One paragraph in that book spoke to me and I nearly cried as I read it.
"A person who is seeking deeper insight into reality may sometimes have doubts, even about God himself. Such doubts do not necessarily indicate lack of faith. They may be just the opposite - a sign of growing faith. Faith is alive and dynamic. It seeks, through grace, to penetrate into the very mystery of God. If a particular doctrine of faith no longer 'makes sense' to a person, the person should go right on seeking. To know what a doctrine says is one thing. To gain insight into its meaning through the gift of understanding is something else. When in doubt, 'Seek and you will find.' The person who seeks y reading, discussing, thinking, or praying eventually sees the light. The person who talks to God even when God is 'not there' is alive with faith."
At the end of class I told Sr. Bernadette that I wanted to enter the Church at the next Easter vigil. 3. If you were a tree what kind of, oh sorry about that .. what is the PODest thing you have ever done? I set up WikiIndex, a clearinghouse for reviews of theological books, good, bad, and ugly. It has a long way to go, but it'll be cool when it's finished. :) 4. What is your favorite quote from Venerable John Henry Newman? "Ten thousand difficulties do not make one doubt." 5. If you could ban one hymn from existence, what would it be? That's a tough one. As a member of the Society for a Moratorium on the Music of Marty Haugen and David Haas, there are obviously a lot of songs that grate on my nerves. If I had to pick one, though, I'd probably pick "Sing of the Lord's Goodness" by Ernie Sands.

9 thoughts on “Senatus Populusque Americae?

  1. theomorph

    . . . (continued from above)

    And certainly, as Carroll pointed out, there was a theological inversion with the triumph of Christianity. No longer was it a religion of the meek inheriting the earth, but a religion of power and great governance. It was the religion whose authorities slipped easily into the administrative hierarchy that had been Rome’s. I think that’s why a lot of modern Christians come off looking like hypocrites. They’re struggling with a faith system that, in the time of Jesus, was about being that poor, oppressed group and not letting it crush your soul, and trying to fit it into being rich and powerful. That’s probably why Christianity is booming in the southern hemisphere and all its “developing nations” and languishing in the northern hemisphere (except the USA, for historical reasons that are interesting in their own right).

    It’s also probably why American Christianity has become less a religion of the inner person (as many other religions are) and more a religion of cultural critique. This is exactly where Christianity was with Rome back in the first, second, and third centuries, except then it didn’t have a historical legacy of being in charge once before.

    Anyway, just my three cents. 🙂

  2. theomorph

    “I think most educated people understand that Rome was wrong for conquering people and ‘civilizing’ them ‘for their own good.'”

    Personally, I wish Rome had conquered all the way to India, and maybe the Middle East today would be a lot more like Europe today, and a lot less like a bunch of idiots killing people to obstruct anything that’s not an Islamic theocracy.

    And Carroll’s essay isn’t bad history, except for goofy little bits like Jesus being a political criminal. Early Christianity was very much anti-Roman. The Roman occupation of Judea was huge in the minds of the Jews and early Christians of the first century. But, like you say, Jesus apparently taught his followers not to fight back (like, say, the Zealots wanted to), but to look to the Kingdom of Heaven instead of complaining about their earthly political complaints. That Jesus didn’t want his people to directly and materially oppose the Roman Empire does not mean that he and they were not internally opposed. If anything, the teachings of Jesus would not have made much sense without the anti-Roman political context. Why preach that the meek shall ultimately inherit the earth if the meek aren’t worried because someone else is currently inheriting it? Jesus certainly didn’t say “Capitulate to Rome, you’ll be better off,” even though that probably would have worked out. But the teachings of Jesus refocused the religion of the Jews internally. See Luke 17:20-21, in which Jesus tells the Pharisees that “The kingdom of God is not coming with things that can be observed; nor will they say, ‘Look, here it is!’ or ‘There it is!’ For, in fact, the kingdom of God is among you.”

    But between the time of Jesus’ departure (be it by death or ascension, depending on your beliefs) and the writing of Revelation, it’s clear that Christian loathing of Rome was on an upswing. The destruction of the temple in Jerusalem certainly didn’t help. Anyway, the anti-Roman rhetoric of Revelation is pretty striking, if obscured for modern readers by ancient metaphors.

    Then, as Christianity spread within Rome, the Christian critique of Roman culture and religion was hardly favorable. Rome had plenty of cultural problems, as I’m sure you know. But if Rome had not had cultural problems, if there had been nothing there worth criticizing, I hardly think Christianity would have found the foothold it needed to explode out of Judea and become the worldwide faith it is today.

    . . .

  3. ELC

    Do you not know that Carroll is an ex-priest? One may surmise his true beliefs, however, from noting that viewing absolutely everything in political categories is a tendency of Marxists.

  4. Funky Dung

    John, consider that goof fixed.

    Theo and Steve, do the ends justify the means? Rome brought peace, order, roads, plumbing, etc. through war, destruction of cultures, and oppression. This is one point I agreed with Carroll on. Were the things Rome brought to people good? Yes. Were they worth being conquered for? I’m not so sure.

    Steve, the New World Order Jesus taught and the one Carroll blathered on about are very different things.

  5. theomorph

    Sure Jesus’ “New World Order” is different from ours (the one Carroll points out on the dollar bill). Jesus’ order was one of the bottom people, the conquered people. Ours is one of top, powerful people. He’s talking about the same difference that led Nietzsche into his whole slave versus master mentality, and the kinds of disparate virtues they breed.

    You can ask “do the ends justify the means” about lots of stuff in history. Here are some popular ones: Is a bloody, four-year civil war justified by the fact that it brought an end to African slavery in the United States? Was the dropping of atomic bombs on Japan justified by the fact that it brought an end to the war in the Pacific theater? Was the extermination of the indigenous people of North America by European colonists justified by the fact that North America is now one of the biggest, most peaceful swaths of land in the world, instead of a land gripped by tribal warfare?

    People have argued intensely about all of those, and I’m not going to provide any pat answers. But my point is that making moral judgments about historical events can be difficult. If we didn’t know the end of the story in each of these cases, most people would probably be able to answer easily: the Civil War was a monstrous, immoral conflict; dropping nuclear bombs on civilians is disgusting; exterminating the Native Americans was senseless and heartless.

    Knowing the historical aftermath, however, musses up those easy judgments. Suddenly you’re having to say things like, “Yes, but…”

    It’s difficult to go back and criticize the Roman conquest of Europe when our entire culture and historical heritage, which bequeathed to us both our sense of history and our sense of morality, is utterly dependent on having a unified Roman Empire when and where it happened. It’s sort of like being the child of a rape victim and having to say, “Yes, well, on the one hand, it was horrible that my mother was raped, but on the other hand, I’m glad I’m here.” Very difficult.

  6. Steve N

    Well, I’d be the last one to think the ends justify, a priori, the means. There is much to hate about Rome. I’m not advocating a hindsight-blinded revisionist history of the empire. And I would certainly oppose in no uncertain terms the idea that America should try to be a new one.

    But, as Theo (perhaps?) suggests, Christianity is very much the child of that rape vicim. What was intended for evil, what was not God’s will, turns out to be God’s greatest blessing. “God hides himself sometimes, inside a paradox” (T.S. Taylor)

    Cheers!

  7. Steve N

    Wow, Funky. You’ve been a busy beaver!

    I’d have to say I’m more with Theo on this one. Let’s not be too down on Rome. Considering the alternatives, there were a lot worse choices than Rome for worldwide hegemony. Would that they had conquered all the way to India!

    There is, after all, a reason that the Catholic Church is called the Roman Catholic Church. Rome proved to be a most capable host for this parasite Christianity to grow up in and, eventually flourish. Sure the host tried to stamp it out from time to time, but (perhaps a fatal flaw with all empires) never with quite enough resolve to do the trick.

    Absolutely, Christ was about a whole lot more than a new politics, unless one was to mean by new politics “a new family of people, united by self-giving love, whose true power comes strangely, paradoxically through weakness.” If all truly is politics, then Jesus’ “politics” are surely the best.

    But, how in all honesty, can you see Carroll’s last paragraph as a non sequitur? That the price for the New World Order is that of blood is surely an apt observation. Sure, applied to Iraq, it does seem to sully the notion a bit. (Although should Iraq, against all odds, ever truly become a stable force for freedom & tolerance in the Middle East, we might feel different.) But surely the essayists underlying meaning is that the New World Order came at the price of the blood of this certain nobody born on Christmas Day!

    Cheers!

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