Matthew 2:1-12
Much of the time the stories from
scripture live in our imaginations somewhat differently than they live on the
pages of the Bible. This morning we sing an old familiar song, “We three kings
of orient are, bearing gifts we travers afar.” And yet the scripture says
nothing about them being kings. And, whatever we call them – kings, magi, wise
men – the scripture never mentions how many of them there were. We only infer
that from the number of gifts that were mentioned.
Nonetheless, every nativity scene has
three men bearing gifts, often wearing crowns. Because they’re kings. Only,
they’re not. We’re really not sure what they are – except we know they are
foreign. These guys are out-of-towners, and I think that helps to explain why
they act as dumb as they do.
They go to the king – Herod – to ask
him for directions. They waltz right into Herod’s court and announce that they
have come to see the newborn king of the Jews; would Herod be so kind as to
point them in the right direction. You know, so they might worship him. They
know nothing about Herod if they actually think he is going to hear this as
good news. They are naïve, to put it kindly.
On hearing this, Matthew tells us,
Herod is afraid. He quickly does a little investigating of his own, to
confirm that there is indeed something for him to be afraid of, then he returns
to his visitors. He composes his face to mask his fear, then tells them to
please go ahead and find this newborn king, then come back and tell him where
he is, so Herod may go worship him too.
As if.
The story we tell every year at
Christmas is a story of love and wonder – or, as we say in the hymn, “wonders,
wonders of his love.” It’s a story we make when we take the bits we like from
Matthew and Luke and mix them together into something wonderful. We bring
together the virgin Mary and Joseph, the baby lying in the manger, the
shepherds carrying their lambs, and three kings. We put them all under the roof
of this barn, with an angel hovering over them. The faces are serene and
beautiful. No one really looks surprised or confused about all of this.
We take all these bits and pieces and
paste them together, and this is the story that lives in our imaginations –
more vividly than the story we find on the pages of the gospels. But when we
look more closely at the story on the page, we find some other things. We find,
much to our disappointment, that evil lurks all around.
In the story we like to tell at
Christmas, Herod doesn’t really have a part. But in this text for today, the
story of the wise men, or magi, we see him. And if we look closely, we see not
only what he says, but what he does.
In these 12 verses of Chapter 2, we
hear that the wise men were warned in a dream not to return to Herod. But why?
If we keep reading, we find out why. The angel returns to tell Joseph that
Herod is embarking on a mission to search and destroy.
Matthew confirms for the reader that
King Herod’s intentions are anything but pure and worshipful. In spite of what
he says, we know who he is. He is a tyrannical and insecure ruler who will do
anything necessary to remove a threat to his power. He is the personification
of the idea that absolute power corrupts absolutely.
The angel urges Joseph to take the
mother and child and flee from Herod, which he does, finding refuge in Egypt.
And when Herod learns that he has been outfoxed by the magi and the carpenter,
he is enraged.
This is where things start to get
really ugly.
In his insane fury, Herod begins the
slaughter of the innocents. He orders the killing of all the children in and
around Bethlehem under the age of two years. And Matthew quotes the prophet
Jeremiah, “a voice was heard in Ramah, wailing and loud lamentation, Rachel
weeping for her children; she refused to be consoled, for they are no more.”
Some say this probably didn’t happen.
Even so, we know there is truth in the story, because these things do happen. This
level of evil exists. We have seen massacres on such a grand scale. And we
know, from historians of the time, that King Herod never shied away from
killing. History tells us, and the daily news affirms, that evil lives in all
times and places.
And Matthew, while he doesn’t dwell on
the existence of evil, does tell us something important about it – that so
often it is born of fear. Herod is afraid. He is afraid of losing his power,
afraid that anyone who is strong enough to take it from him is also cruel
enough to treat him as he has treated others.
In his fear he connives, but he is
out-connived – and then he becomes infuriated. Psychologists disagree about
which emotion is the most primitive in humans – whether it is fear or rage. It
probably doesn’t matter, because they tend to be so closely intertwined. In
fear, we see, the Herods of the world rage and destroy.
Eventually, Herod dies. That
ever-faithful angel comes to Joseph again to let him know it is safe to return
home, and so he does, settling in Nazareth. And the child Jesus thrives.
In the Christmas season, when we
celebrate the light that came into the world, we still look at the darkness.
Not to spoil the festive mood. Simply because the darkness is the reason for
the light.
I came across a quote from the
Christian writer, G.K. Chesterton, saying: “there is something in the world
more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.” And here in the
Christmas story, we find that something. It is this story in the second chapter
of Matthew that shows it to us: the love that came to earth in a newborn child,
this is stronger than strong fear.
The evil doesn’t go away; the things
that cause us to be afraid are still here. But the story of Christmas gives us
all the power we need to dispel the fear. It empowers us to turn our gaze on
the evil acts of Herod and know that this small, fearful, and mad tyrant is
nothing compared to the power of God.
Everything, even the Herods of the
world, wilt and faint before this story of wondrous love.
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