The Gospel reading for Christmas Midnight Mass, from St. Luke Chapter 2, is the beautiful account of Jesus’ birth at Bethlehem, a story familiar to all Catholics. 

But have you ever wondered why it begins by mentioning the current Roman emperor, Augustus, and even one of the governors of Syria, Quirinius? Why are these persons, obscure to most of us, part of the touching story of the Holy Family, the stable, the shepherds and the angels?

On one level, the reason is obvious. In the ancient world, there was no one system of dating, and events were frequently dated by reference to the reign of the current monarch. But there is a second and more important reason: By situating the birth of Jesus in the broader events of history, St. Luke is telling us that the Catholic faith is a historical religion, a religion based on real events, things that really happened.

In Evelyn Waugh’s historical novel about St. Helena, the mother of the Emperor Constantine, Helena, before her conversion to Catholicism, is told by her husband about his initiation into the pagan cult of Mithras. He explains the story of Mithras, and she replies, well, when did this all happen?

That’s a silly question, he says, don’t you know this is a myth? It’s symbolic. Helena is not much interested. Then, much later in the story, Helena encounters a Catholic, Lactantius, who recounts to her the story of Jesus Christ, His crucifixion and resurrection. 

Again, she asks, well, when did this happen? But this time the answer is different: Lactantius tells her that “he died two hundred and seventy-eight years ago in the town now called Aelia Capitolina in Palestine.” She is impressed – no more mythic stories, this really happened.

And so it is with our Catholic faith and the Gospels themselves. At the beginning of Chapter 3 of his Gospel, St. Luke gives us another chronological marker by fixing the date for the beginning of John the Baptist’s ministry by the reigns of no fewer than six secular and religious rulers. Luke wants to make clear to his readers that what he is writing is something true, something that really happened – and therefore something important. 

And that is why every week when we Catholics say the Nicene Creed at Mass, we include the phrase “crucified under Pontius Pilate” – not to commemorate a rather second-rate Roman bureaucrat, but to witness that we are dealing here with real events.

The Church makes a tremendous claim to us. She is telling us about things that really happened, that happened whether we like it or not, whether we find them appealing or not. Jesus Christ did come during the reign of Caesar Augustus; He really was crucified and rose again during the reign of Tiberius.

Today there is frequently talk about being “spiritual but not religious.” Often that means attracted by a vague belief in some higher power or powers. What those might be, what they have done, what they will do in the future is seldom asked. Each person is free to imagine them in any way that is personally pleasing. This is a made-to-order spirituality. 

But Catholicism is something different, a religion that makes historical truth claims, that stands or falls with assertions about God acting in history, during the reigns of real, live emperors, kings and governors. And, of course, that is why it is so important, why, in fact, it is the most important thing there is. Something which, when we embrace it, we must adhere to it with our whole heart and life as well as our whole mind.

So, these little historical markers that, on account of their familiarity, we are apt to overlook, are vital to our faith and are guarantees that our religion is true. Both true and important, and, in fact, if we are faithful, the gateway to eternal life.

Thomas Storck is the author, editor or translator of 10 books and numerous print and online articles. His latest book is “The Prosperity Gospel: How Greed and Bad Philosophy Distorted Christ’s Teaching” (TAN Books, 2023). He is a contributing editor of “New Oxford Review” and a member of the editorial board of “The Chesterton Review.” 


Storck and his wife, Inez, are members of Westerville St. Paul Church.