In our world, there are those who have power and those who don’t; and one of the surest ways to tell the difference is that when those in power speak, those without power scurry to obey. When the commander in chief speaks, for example, entire military divisions start to mobilize and deploy. When the school board president speaks, teachers and students alike adjust to the new policy. When the alumni speak, the football coach suddenly finds himself on the unemployment line.

That’s just the way things are; and from what I can tell, they have been like this for quite some time. Hence, when Caesar Augustus issues his decree that the Roman Empire be registered, Mary and Joseph have little choice but to begin the difficult, four-day trek to Bethlehem.

It doesn’t matter that she is nine months pregnant, or that every hotel in town will likely be booked by the time they arrive. It doesn’t matter that they are already dirt-poor, and scarcely in the position to fork over more shekels to the IRS. The only thing that matters is that Caesar has spoken—and when the powerful command, the powerless comply!

It’s a strange way to introduce the Christmas story; but one of the reasons I think Luke starts out with Augustus is because he wants to remind us that, with the birth of Jesus Christ, a new kind of power entered into the world. By choosing to become an infant—weak, vulnerable, and totally dependent—God turns the traditional power structure on its head.

To be sure, there are still times when it seems as if Augustus is calling all the shots. The strong still rule the weak; the “haves” still lord it over the “have nots”; the powerful still command, and the powerless comply.

However, consider this: The name of Caesar Augustus—at one time, the most famous and feared name in the world—is chiefly remembered today, because at some point during his reign, in a run-down section of one of his more obscure provinces, out in the cramped quarters of hay-filled stable, the little Lord Jesus is born!