Irony: A situation reveals a reality different from what the audience expects. For example, can anyone explain why Sweden’s Icehotel, completely constructed in ice and snow, has fire extinguishers?
The audience is similarly mystified when the Grand Master of irony brought forth His ironical masterpiece over two thousand years ago.
A baby boy was born ‘out of wedlock.’ Since it was not his child, the man engaged to the young woman contemplated breaking up with her to save them both from public disgrace. However, an angel from God intervened, telling the man to honor his marriage to the young woman because the child she would bear would save the people.
Yet, what societal judgments fell upon both the man and the wife as they married? Did their community whisper behind their backs? How many in the community looked with disdain upon ‘that boy.’
As the boy grew, he didn’t become an excellent scholar destined for higher learning. He wasn’t raised even in a middle-class home. Most likely, the only trade he learned was carpentry from his father.
When he reached the age of thirty, he taught in the synagogues even though he had no formal education under a rabbi. That raised the question, “Isn’t he the son of the carpenter? How can he teach like this?”
He also attracted followers, including twelve men. These men weren’t special. One was a hated tax collector. Four were fishermen. One was a rebellious zealot. Another was an opportunistic thief. Not one of the men held a college degree in theology. Not one of them was a general, a president, or a monarch. Not one of them held any societal prestige at all.
Attempts on his life include being thrown from a cliff and stoning. The religious leaders of the time plotted continually to kill him. Finally, they convinced Pontius Pilate, the Roman governor, to crucify him.
Pilate’s heart wasn’t in it though. After he interrogated the man, he found the man to be innocent of any charges. Nonetheless, he allowed the crucifixion to proceed, and the man died next to two criminals as if he was of the same ilk.
Here’s the question: Given this man’s commonplace societal standing, why is it that all of human history revolves around this man’s birth? We all know that BC means ‘Before Christ,’ and AD means ‘Year Of Our Lord.’
Who is the ‘Christ,’ and who is the ‘Lord,’ being referenced here? Logically, shouldn’t it be some world ruler or dictator? If you’re going to establish a historical time line around one person, shouldn’t it allude to the most powerful man in the world?
Apparently not. The timeline of all of history is based on the man who is identified as the Messiah. Not Caesar, but the Messiah. Not a powerful Roman citizen, but a common Jew. To the world, he was an illegitimate child, a common citizen, a cult leader of a bunch of nobodies, and a frequent target of the most powerful people in Israel. Even though he was found innocent of charges, he was executed as a common thief.
Yet, who made it happen that the entire historical timeline of earth’s recorded history is based on this man’s birth?
We’re tempted to point to an extremely powerful man—someone like Caesar. Surely, from his pedestal, Caesar pronounced to the world that from this day forth there would always be BC and AD. Furthermore, the man being so honored was an innocent man crucified as a criminal. Everyone listened and obeyed because—well, Caesar was the world’s most powerful person.
Not at all. BC and AD came forth because of a Christian monk named Dionysius Exiguss. Dionysius used no massive pronunciation, no formal ratification. He simply started using it, and it caught on.
Everyone recognizes the man being described is none other than Jesus, who is sovereign God Himself. In His unequaled capacity for irony, God uses a man (Himself in the flesh) with no prestige or power or fame to establish that all world history would be registered on a historical timeline. Ironically, the birth of this man (again, Himself) becomes the central event of the entire historical timeline.
That’s masterpiece irony, and only God Himself could make it happen. Maybe He chuckled as He made it happen. After all, excellent irony makes us all laugh.