Who’s that guy?
Five years ago, about two weeks out from Christmas - I challenged myself to begin memorizing Luke 2:1-20 by Christmas Eve. I wrote each fragment of a line on a note card and flipped through them like flash cards. "In those days a decree went out..." and so on.
This year, preparations for Christmas are different for me - but pieces of the story will come front of mind in the middle of some other task or while I'm doing something that requires little thought. Oddly enough, "while Quirinius was governor of Syria" kept playing today. As did a line not from the story, "Who the heck was that guy?"
Present in the role call of Luke 2, according to historians, Quirinius also shows up in the ancient writings of Josephus and in many other inscriptions and texts, including the writings of Caesar Augustus, himself. Consulting Google, I learned that Publius Sulpicius Quirinius (or Cyrenius in the Greek) was a well known Roman official who lived ca. 51 BC - AD 21. He was described as a man of "great dignity" who was extremely rich and held a variety of roles in the Roman empire including those of senator, a magistrate who held a joint office, counsul, and legate. He rose to fame through his skill as a military commander when he conquered the Pisidian tribes of the Homonadenses. He was married twice, then divorced twice - the latter wife was accused of trying to poison him - among other marital issues. Hence the reason "great dignity" is in quotes in the third line of this paragraph.
So... that's a snapshot of Quirinus, who was governor of Syria... in those days. The gospel writer of Luke, who really wanted to get an "orderly account" of things named Quirinius. Likely, so that we wouldn't forget about the political, divided, violent world into which Christ was born.
The year I happened to memorize the Christmas gospel for the first time was 2016. The year when the Syrian civil war had really flared up and military action from outside countries meant airstrikes in Aleppo. The images captured by photo journalists were alarming and showed us the brutality of war, including the picture of a dust covered children surviving air strikes in the back of an ambulance, and news stories told of capsized boats of Syrian refugees - people attempting to flee the horror.
I remember that Christmas eve in 2016 pausing for a minute after saying, "Syria." Praying for God to hold close the victims of violence and bloodshed; and to make a home for those refugees who fled; and to open up the hearts of the "innkeepers" to make a space for those in greatest need.
As I sit here trying to make sense of why that line keeps popping in my head I've been thinking about the destruction of the tornadoes in states south of us - and more personally - the consequences of the violence at the parade in my hometown of Waukesha just weeks ago. Even now, we are preparing to communicate more needs for afghan refugee relief - which will come to you soon - and I can't help but think of Quirinius and Syria - even as we will dwell in the story of the shepherds and the angels, the generosity of the innkeeper in that little town.
There is a sacred story we reach back to year after year - a story of God's wide reaching salvation. It's a story that makes real God's presence amidst "the hopes and fears of all the years." While the story is the same, we have changed, the world has changed, and Syria and people like Quirinius still exist. As we tell it again this year, dear church, may we share it with boldness and truth: that into this weary world God came that all oppression should cease. The Word of God speaks boldly still - through you. I am grateful for the words you will proclaim that will bring hope to so many.
The Rev. Jenn Pockat
Associate to the Bishop, Director for Communications and Community
