The Christmas Story

Response to Yoder Column in Washington Post 25 Dec 1984

 

What Luke CouldTake for Granted

Edwin M. Yoder,Jr.

 

One of the best tales ever told begins with the writer'surbane pledge to a Roman official: he is about to present an "orderly" account of certain recentstories, that the truth might be known.

 

You will doubtless recognize the tale more readily if weskip from that disarming preface to these more familiar lines:  "In those days, a decree went outfrom Caesar AugustusÉ"

 

The Gospel according to St. Luke has been regarded for agesas the most accessible and human of the four accounts.  Aside from the text itself, more isknown, or may be guessed, about the writer.  He was keenly interested in so anchoring his story inidentifiable time and place that readers and hearers would find itplausible.  Accordingly, a story ofdivine visitation begins with an emperor's whim:  Caesar Augustus decides to take a census.

 

Luke, it is believed, was a Gentile from Antioch.  Those who have ears for such thingscall his Greek polished, or more polished than the humble Greek of the otherevangelists.  He was evidently afriend and traveling companion of St. Paul.  Like Paul he valued the Roman order and wished to reassurethe imperial authorities.  This newsect, the Christians, posed no threat to the stability of the empire.

 

With these aspects of Luke's character and purpose 20thcentury readers are easy.  Butsomething is odd about Luke and his book. For all his urbanity, he is a soft touch for the miraculous.  His narrative from the first overflowswith events which, to a modern eye, strain belief.

 

The leading figure in the opening scenes is not a man but anangel, Gabriel.  This Gabrielstrikes an old priest temporarily dumb because he doubts the news that he is tobe the father of John the Baptist. Later, when the infant Jesus is brought to the temple for dedication asa first-born son, an aged prophetess is lurking about.  And this is to say nothing of theoccasion, a few nights earlier, when shepherds hear anthems of universal goodwill in the sky.

 

From the modern point of view, all this seems challenging– at least, not the sort of thing Dan Rather would report with a straightface.  The skilled narrator freelydilutes his history with what we would call superstition.  If this is an "orderlyaccount" of the "truth," as he solemnly assures his Roman friendTheophilus, the truth is a patchwork fabric.

 

It is such discrepancies that children invariably notice andquestion, when adults stand in deferential silence.  But never mind, children used to be told, "back inthose days" writers did not distinguish as we do between various sorts ofnarrative – between fact and fiction, or between history and myth.

 

But when we grew up, we put away childish explanations, andthe matter became more complicated. A writer of Luke's abilities was quite aware when he mixed the poetic ormythic with the historical.  Thetext shows it.  Yet he could do itwith perfect serenity, and not merely because his purpose was in partliturgical.

 

The world of Luke, as a famous poet of our own day hasexplained in another connection, had not suffered a "dissociation ofsensibility."  It had notundergone that fragmentation of the understanding that was brought on by modernscience.

 

How good it would be, if only for a moment at the Christmasseason, to be able to re-enter Luke's profound simplicity of mind, unvexed byfussy distinctions.  Then we couldtake for granted, as he did, that signs and wonders now and then interrupt thepredictable flow of observed cause and effect; that such interruptions of the"natural" order may be taken not as puzzles but as signs of a welcomecosmic interest in our small world.

 

We might again be like those devout Jews from whom Lukelearned that even the most mundane events, to say nothing of marvels, reflecteddivine patterns unfolding.

 

Yes, it would be the best of Christmas treats to read Luke'snarrative as if it were the most natural of expectations that history sometimespauses for the caroling of angels, or that a child born in a stable might bethe answer to mankind's endless strife. For some, this may be difficult. But we are, at least, at one with Luke in seeing that such a story, iftrue, would be truly magnificent.

 

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December 27, 1984

 

The Editor

The Washington Post

 

Dear Sir:

 

Herewith a few comments re/ Edwin Yoder's article on theChristmas story, "What Luke Could Take for Granted" (Post 12/25/84, page A-19).

 

Mr. Yoder is surely right "in seeing that such a story,if true, would be truly magnificent."  But he parts company with the early Christians (at leastPaul, 1 Corinthians 15:14) in thinking that the miraculous can be dispensedwith and Christianity retained.

 

He is also mistaken in supposing that Luke, "for allhis urbanity É is a soft touch for the miraculous."  According to Paul's letters and Luke's Actsof the Apostles, Luke was an associate ofthe apostle, a physician, and an eyewitness to several of Paul's miracles.  While Paul was imprisoned for two yearsat Caesarea, Luke was in Palestine with ample opportunity to research thematters treated in his Gospel. This is presumably what Luke is talking about when he tells us, "Imyself have investigated everything from the beginning É so that you may knowthe certainty of the things you have been taught" (Luke 1:3-4).

 

Yoder is also correct when he says that Luke's narrative"overflows with events which, to a modern eye, strain belief."  Indeed, this situation has something todo with modern science, though I think the rejection of the miraculous is anunwarranted extrapolation from science. The question, however, is who is right:  the eyewitnesses, or modern scholars at 1900 years' distancefrom the events?  Of course wemoderns understand science better than the ancients, but neither we nor theywould suppose we were observing natural phenomena if we saw the dead raised,thousands of people filled with a few loaves of bread, or a storm stilled witha word.  After all, modern sciencehas not been able to explain how the miracles of Jesus were merelymisunderstood natural events.  Suchan attempt by Hermann Paulus in the 1830s was mocked out even by liberals ofthe time for its strained interpretations.  The usual procedure today is to dismiss the accounts aslegendary elaborations in despite of Luke's (and Paul's) claims.

 

Must we, then, either meekly take the word of the Biblewriters without supporting evidence, or reject it in favor of modern theoriesthat we live in a closed universe into which not even God can penetrate?  No, God has provided evidence by whichthose who really want to know can reach sufficient certainly on thesematters.  I myself have a doctoratein astrophysics from Cornell University; I know many others trained in modern sciencethat have come to believe the Bible is an accurate record of God's dealingswith mankind on the basis of solid evidence, not merely a leap in the dark.

 

Space forbids any real survey of this evidence, but forthose who would like to investigate, let me propose the following readinglist:  (1) Evidence for God fromcosmology and design in the universe: Robert Jastrow, God & the Astronomers; Paul Davies, Accidental Universe; Alan Hayward, God Is;(2) Evidence from man's moral nature: C. S. Lewis, Mere Christianity; (3) Evidence from fulfilled Biblical predictions: John Urquhart, TheWonders of Prophecy; Peter Stoner andRobert Newman, Science Speaks;(4) Evidence from Jesus' resurrection: John Wenham, The Easter Enigma; Ian Wilson, The Shroud of Turin; (5) Evidence from transformed lives:  Chuck Coulson, Born Again; Eric Barrett and David Fisher, ScientistsWho Believe.  If you've only got time for one, read Hayward.

 

Sincerely,

Dr. Robert C. Newman

Professor of New Testament

Biblical Theological Seminary