We can see the face of God

Bishop Scott Bullock
Homily from the Christmas Mass at Night
Cathedral of Our Lady of Perpetual Help, Rapid City
December 25, 2025

In the 1890s, German archeologists uncovered in western Turkey what has come to be called “The Priene Calendar Inscription,” probably from the year 9 BC. This inscription in stone records an edict by Paullus Fabius Maximus, proconsul of the Roman province of Asia and a decree of the conventus, a provincial official, accepting the edict. The Greek text explicitly calls the emperor Augustus: θεὸς σωτήρ — God and Savior. It speaks of his birth as the εὐαγγέλια (good news) for the world. In other places, this same emperor is referred to by the title dominus, which we would translate as Lord. The Emperor Caesar Augustus: God, Savior, and Lord. Fascinating … maybe.

What’s your point, bishop? What does an ancient inscription on a rock artifact have to do with us? With Christmas? With anything important to us?

The Gospel for this Christmas Mass begins with an act of power by that ancient Roman ruler: “In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled.” Some have wondered why St. Luke insisted upon giving us this historical detail. At first glimpse, it might seem to be because St. Luke is explaining why Jesus was born in Bethlehem, though his family was from Nazareth. Yes, this detail seems to be supporting the message of the prophet Micah: “But you, O Bethlehem Ephrathah, who are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come forth for me one to be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times.” 

But more is going on than just that. There’s a rich irony in fact; the Gospel is fighting words. Fighting words from the evangelist Luke!

This Gospel seems like a quaint Christmas story, doesn’t it? The shepherds and the angels and all that. But instead it is a provocation to worldly powers, saying, essentially: worldly powers might seem all-powerful, but there is a force unleashed at Christmas that will humble them all, defeat them all in an eternal battle! To see what’s really going on in this text from Luke, chapter 2, compare two sentences, one at the beginning and one at the end. At the beginning — “In those days a decree went out from Caesar Augustus that the whole world should be enrolled.”

And at the end of the Gospel — “The angel said to them, do not be afraid; for behold, I proclaim to you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. For today in the city of David a savior has been born for you who is Christ and Lord. And this will be a sign for you: you will find an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.” 

Both passages, both verses speak of an announcement. The term for the decree of Caesar Augustus, which that inscription I mentioned would have specified evangelia is not used at the end of the Gospel for a message from the angel. It’s as if the writer is saying the message of true power is not that of the emperor but instead that of the angel.

Then the decree of Caesar Augustus we’re told is intended for the whole world, but since the decree demands a census, it would only be for the whole Roman world. On the other hand, the message of the angel intends an even larger audience — for all people. This means every human person. 

Finally, by the reference to Augustus Caesar, we can think about the titles referred to in the ancient inscriptions I told you about, the honorifics of God, Savior, and Lord. The Gospel writer, with a boldness that would have been considered presumptuous and provocative to the Romans. He says: the true God, Savior, the Lord, is not Caesar Augustus, but Jesus Christ, “an infant wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger.”

Essentially, the Gospel contains fighting words, essentially saying, “You think you’re important, Caesar Augustus? There’s another king who is more important. Whose message is more important. Who is truly God, Savior and Lord! And he is a little baby in a manger.”

The claim is bold and confounds human logic regarding power and authority. While we could expect the emperor to be more powerful; in fact, the lasting power is with the baby. History has borne out of that the claim of St. Luke. The Roman emperors are gone, which Jesus, the king, still reigns as God, Lord and Savior!

And let’s be clear, Jesus is king. As our Catholic Church has sung in a medieval hymn for over twelve centuries and still does with authentic truth: Christus vincit, Christus regnat, Christus imperat! Christ conquers, Christ rules, Christ commands! That God became fully human, born of Mary as an infant, born as a human like us, has literally changed the world, and this is no exaggeration. For before Christ, few human beings could claim any type of dignity. Most were poor slaves of no status. Because God has become fully human, humanity itself is now infused with a profound dignity. Christians, from the very beginning of our faith have defended the dignity of every human person. We’ve rescued exposed infants, built hospitals and hospices, created universities, served the poor. All because we see the image of God in others. As Jesus himself said, “whatever you do for the least of my brothers, you do for me.”

One more example of how Christ the King changed the world and revolutionized how we live. It’s evident in our culture and in our art, especially in the pursuit of beauty. The author Marcus Peter wrote, “Cathedrals, music, sculpture, poetry all exploded in the wake of the Incarnation because God now had a face and a name — and, therefore, the human face and human identity became worthy subjects for art, icons, music and architecture.” 

One of the most vivid displays of this aesthetic effect of the Incarnation can be seen in the extraordinary Church of Holy Wisdom, Hagia Sophia, in Istanbul, now Turkey. Built as the world’s largest Orthodox Cathedral, beginning in the 6th century, it was immediately adorned with images of Christ, the blessed Mother, and the saints — all of extraordinary beauty. But, when it was converted to an Islamic Mosque beginning in 1453, the images were painted over by adherents who didn’t accept an Incarnate God, but instead a God wholly other from our humanity. Sadly, these beautiful images, slowly uncovered during a period of greater acceptance of them in the 20th century, are now gone again, since this edifice has been restored as a mosque in 2020. What a cultural and human tragedy. 

Because Christ became fully human, we can see the face of God, we can see the beauty of God, and we can see hints of him all through creation. And we’re not shy to depict that beauty all around us. 

Because Christ the King came to do battle in this world, he unleashed a restoration of our dignity as persons created in God’s image, and bearing that image in our humanity, as he did, beginning in the manger in Bethlehem. And what a king we have! 

That last detail of the Gospel is an important one. He’s “lying in a manger.” That suggests a king like no other. A manger — a feedbox for farm animals. For, this king, this Lord, this Savior, this God comes as food. Astonishing!  His mission is to feed us with his very life, his eternal life and restore his image in us. As the Gospel writer John said, “whoever eats this bread will live forever.” 

His life, his flesh is a remedy for death and a means of restoring eternal life and divine dignity in all who partake of him as food, as in the Eucharist. 

Many have claimed all power and authority. Kings have come and gone. This king remains and he’s changed the world. The child of Bethlehem has supplanted them all! He alone is God, Lord, Savior and more. He’s a king who’s literally changed the world and all humanity. In his mercy, becomes bread for eternal life. Bread for eternal life. Not so much in that manger over there, but at this manger — the altar — where he feeds us and restores our radiant dignity. Each of us. Everyone here tonight because we’ve all been created in God’s image and restored in his grace.